Scenes
by ZombieJazz
Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. Currently, the scenes immediately follow So This is Christmas. Eventually, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead.
1. Good Morning

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Erin jumped at the pounding on the door and groaned loudly.

"Erin," Hank barked at the door – and he sounded really fucking annoyed.

She rolled over, pulling a pillow over her head, trying to ignore him. Hank and his fucking rules about sleeping in. It was the fucking weekend. She was so tired. All she wanted to do was catch up on her sleep – in a real bed. He needed to fucking leave her alone. Treat her like an adult. If she wanted to sleep away her weekend – her holiday – that was her business.

But it was with that roll – and rolling right into a half-naked Jay that she allowed her eyes to really snap open.

"Fuck," she muttered, gazing briefly at him. He apparently could sleep through Hank beating on the door and growling through it. Though he seemed pretty good at sleeping through a lot of things after he actually let himself sleep. He seemed just as good at going for extended periods without any shuteye.

He'd definitely gone the night before with out much shuteye. She was pretty sure neither of them had been asleep that long. Or at least no where near long enough to have Hank at the door.

Normally getting the opportunity to see Jay all sprawled out like that – half-naked. She lifted the sheet – and correction … fully naked. Would give her some ideas on how to wake him up. But that wasn't going to happen that morning.

She reached for her phone and then in her grog came to the realization they were on the floor. On mattresses. But on the floor. She'd forgotten they'd pulled that maneuver.

"Just a second," she muttered at the door – and Hank. Though she was sure she hadn't said it loudly enough that he'd heard.

She propped herself up and reached over top of Jay. He stirred slightly but not enough to wake. She glanced at the phone after she got it in her hand and her eyes opened even wider.

"Fuck!" she said a little more loudly as the sudden realization of what time it actually was and that he'd wanted to go to the hospital with Hank and Ethan washed over her.

"Erin!" Hank barked again. Apparently she'd sworn loudly enough for him to hear that she was awake.

"JUST A SECOND!" she called back more firmly – and more annoyed. Both with herself and him. "Fuck," she mumbled again as she tried to get upright. The mattresses were taking up the majority of the floor space and they things were so fucking old and springy that stepping on them might as well be walking on a trampoline – which wasn't a balancing act she was prepared for after just opening her eyes.

"If you don't open the door, it's going to be E in the door in about five minutes," Hank rasped through the door.

She sighed and glanced around the room, trying to locate the pieces of clothing she'd started the night in. She was in a significant lack of attire at the moment. She couldn't exactly answer the door in lacy underwear.

"Give me ten minutes," she called out. "I'll be down."

"Come to the door," Hank barked again.

Apparently it was loud enough and annoyed enough that Jay really did stir and rub at his eyes blearily. "What's going on?" he muttered.

She sighed and gestured at the door. "He wants to come in … ?" she whispered and lifted up some of the blankets.

"Why?" Jay asked and then followed it with, "No."

She sighed. "Hank, I'll meet you downstairs."

"Ethan needs clothes for the day," he pressed with clear annoyance through the door. "Either bring them to me. Now. Or when he's done brushing his teeth it's going to be him at this door."

She ran her hands through her hair and shook her head – managing to spot where her tank top had ended up. She pulled it on. Braless. Lovely. Only Hank, she reminded herself. But still.

"Tell him to wait," she said. "I'll bring his clothes down."

"We've already been waiting for you," Hank pressed even more annoyed. "He needs help getting dressed. J and Olive are already on the go. I'm not dressing him in the fucking front room. Bring his shit to the door. Now."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Cover up," she whispered at Jay. He looked about as annoyed pissed as Hank sounded. But he did reach and tuck the blankets she'd tossed around in her clothing search more tightly around his lower half.

But she wasn't about to deal with both of them being in pissy moods. She got it. She didn't like Hank pounding at their door and invading their space while they were in states of undressed and had barely woken up. But they were also in his home, and Ethan's room and she'd said she wanted to go to the hospital with them. She couldn't exactly have it both ways. But Hank could've found a better way to handle this. Like waking her up sooner. Or better yet – having thought of the fact he'd need Ethan's clothes the night before.

She went to the door and twisted the knob. It opened all of half an inch. Enough to catch Hank's glare – but not enough to do much of anything else. She turned and gestured at Jay, while trying to push the mattress blocking the door with her foot. There weren't much of a place for it to move, though. Not more than a few more inches.

"It's blocking the door," she spat a Jay. He just groaned and gestured at his covered crotch. Him getting up at that exact moment to rearrange the room wasn't the best idea.

She looked back to Hank. His glare was even more unimpressed. She cocked her head at him. She was getting just as pissed off.

"What does he need?" she hissed at him through the crack.

His eyes were doing the dagger thing and she adjusted herself a bit to try to block Jay from his view. And then crossed her arms off her chest in some sort of effort to be more conservative in the little bit he could see of her through the crack she'd managed to get the door open.

"Socks, briefs, clean shirt," Hank near grunted at her.

She gave a little nod. "Give me a sec. I'll find it," she told him and moved to close the door. She gave Jay an exasperated look. "Move these," she pressed at him more firmly. "And put something on!"

He sighed at her and gave her clearly annoyed eyes. But he should've fucking known what he was getting into. Both with what they'd made a decision to do the night before – in Hank's house and Ethan's room. And what he was getting into in being in a relationship with her. Hank being Hank outside of Voight being Voight was just a given. And it was going to have to be something Jay learned to put up with. As annoying and invasive as Hank could be. That was just Hank. And it sure didn't look like it was anything that was going to rectify anytime in his lifetime.

"Boxers," Hank barked through the door before she'd even managed to navigate to Ethan's dresser. "Not briefs."

"Yea," she muttered. She didn't need the clarification. She understood Ethan's catheter and penis status in that moment – but apparently Hank thought she was oblivious.

She rooted through her baby brother's drawers and grabbed a pair of socks and a pair of boxer, setting them on top and then rummaged through his tshirt drawer. It was a mess. If they'd been put in their folded they sure weren't folded now. But Ethan never was one to make much of a fashion statement and she just grabbed one that looked the least wrinkly of the bunch.

"Tshirt enough or you want some layers?" she called at the door.

"Grab one of his flannels and a hoodie too," Hank said through the door. She nodded to herself and went over to the kid's closet, pulling a flannel shirt off the hanger and reaching for a hoodie when Hank added. "A zip. IV."

"Yea," she muttered under breath. Apparently he also thought she was oblivious to that. Like she hadn't had to take Ethan to enough IV sessions to know the drill.

Jay had managed to find his boxers and toss one of the mattresses back on the bunks by the time she got back to the door. So she opened it a bit more than before but not all the way. And she was prepared for the glare that time – returning it, as she held the clothes through the door.

Hank grabbed them. Gave her more of a once-over that she didn't appreciate and then flatly said, "You've got ten minutes if you're coming in the Escalade."

"Sure," she provided. "I'll be down."

He nodded and started to move to the point that she started to close the door but he gave another glance. "Put your brother's room back together," he stated with a clear tone. "You know how he feels about people touching his shit."

"We didn't touch his dinosaurs or baseball stuff," she said in complete annoyance.

He just looked back at her. That look. The one that she hated. There was no winning with that look.

"Fix his bed," Hank said even more firmly. "And change the fucking sheets."

Erin glared at him and shut the door – near in his face. "Morning, Hank," she muttered as she turned to Jay and rolled her eyes.

He just shrugged at her. "He's sorta in the right on one thing," he provided. She raised an eyebrow at him. Partially warning. She was about to get annoyed with him too. "The fucking sheets."

She allowed a small smile at that as she gazed at the floor and shook her head. He had a point. But he didn't. Like Jay had promised – there hadn't been any fucking the night before. But so far that morning – definitely a clusterfuck.

She went over and wrapped her arms around Jay – engaging in a kiss.

"Mmm … OK. Good morning," he mumbled against her mouth.

It was definitely a lingering kiss. One that she could see taking up at least eight of the ten minutes she apparently had to get ready. If not for the sudden bang against the door and clatter as it flew open.

She spun – fully expecting to all out yell at Hank – but instead Ethan was staring agape at them.

"Ethan! Get out!" she groaned at him. "Dad has your clothes."

He squinted at them – as she realized she was doing nothing to cover up her lack of attire. Or Jay's.

"You better not be doing anything in my room!" Ethan said in pure disgust.

She pointed firmly with her finger. "OUT!"

"Great," he muttered and started clicking away on his crutches. "Great. Now you've completely contaminated it," he said as he headed back out the door. "I CAN'T EVER SLEEP IN HERE AGAIN!"

"YOU COULD'VE KNOCKED!" she called after him, storming to the door and pushing it shut.

"IT'S MY ROOM!" Ethan yelled back from the hallway.

She groaned and looked at Jay.

"So …" Jay said, gazing at her. "It safe to say tonight we'll crash at my place?"

"Yea," Erin nodded. "Safe to say."

Really safe to say. And Ethan wondered why she wouldn't be sleeping over as often now that she was engaged? Maybe she'd have to get him and Hank to do a little replay on their morning so Eth could figure out the answer to that question.

Her family. High maintenance.

They were lucky she loved them. Or else she'd smack them all.


	2. Puppy Dog Sell

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Voight could see that Platt had spotted them before they'd even gotten inside. It was hard not to spot them anymore with the speed Ethan moved at and the contraptions he had attached to both of his arms. They'd definitely lose out in a high-speed chase. And Hank had been more than forced to slow his usual charge down the street when he had his boy with him. It was a snail's pace anymore.

He had hope, though, that shit would speed up. Eventually. He'd seen other kids not much older than E at the Rehab Institute that were on these fucking crutches that were on back order. They could really get a good clip going after they learned how to navigate the things. Almost looked like fun on those flat smooth floor of the hospital, at least. Fucking rocking and swinging and propelling themselves along leaving their parents in the dust. He'd seen more than a couple folks calling at their teen boys to slow the fuck down and to not knock anyone over. So there was still hope.

For now, though, his boy pretty much looked like some sort of crab on another planet. Fucking stairs in the front of the building. Bullshit. He was thinking about putting in a complaint. Get some fucking ramps. Wasn't just about his kid either. They were eliminating a whole segment from the community from feeling like they could come inside because of the obstacles they had in their way. Funny how you let yourself be blind to that shit until you were actually dealing with it. Until you were standing outside your place of work and holding shit up and giving fucking patrol cops dirty looks for every look of sympathy they tossed you. Fuck that. Neither him nor his kid needed any of that bullshit. Ethan was doing just fine. He just needed some time and space to get up the fucking stairs.

Platt gave Voight a bit of a look as they finally got into the lobby. There wasn't pity too it. But he could see some acknowledgement – minor sympathy. Didn't bother him as much when it came from Trudy, though. He'd known her long enough that it was allowed. She'd seen his kids grow up. Knew some of his family's backstory first-hand – not off the fucking rumor mill. So she could look. She hadn't seen Ethan in nearly a month. She'd made a point of asking him in a non-obstructive way how his kid was doing. Not doing it when there was a fucking audience or when he just needed to get upstairs to the job. He appreciated that.

"Well, that can't be Ethan Voight," she said as they neared the front desk. His boy cast her a bit of a look, his face falling slightly. He was likely expecting to get slagged about the crutches. But Platt just leaned over the counter and caught his eyes better. "The Ethan Voight I know wouldn't be caught dead in anything but a Cubs hat."

Ethan lit up a bit at that. A smile pulling at his lips. "We went to a Blackhawks game!" he told her with some genuine excitement.

"You?" Platt asked in some false shock. "Hockey? I don't believe what I'm hearing."

But getting his baseball crazy son to a hockey game had happened. Though, Ethan made sure to start the night off frustrating. Had "forgotten" his beanie in the car. Hank should've noticed. He hadn't. He'd been more focused on getting his kid to the stadium without him getting trampled on the way. Busy holiday game. Of course Ethan didn't complain about being cold – at which point, Voight realized it was because of the missing hat – until they were queued up to have their tickets scanned. Should've sent Erin or Justin back to the car. Or just gone himself. But hadn't. It'd taken them enough time to make the walk. Wanted to get his family all established so they could just enjoy the game. Maybe see a bit of the warm-up. So instead he'd ended up buying E another fucking hat in the souvenir shop. He was fairly certain it might've been a ploy by the little fucker all along – because since he got the thing on his head, E had made a point of saying several times that all the other little fuckers at school at fucking Blackhawks gear.

Voight got it. His kid wanted to fit in. How do you break it to a twelve year old that that likely wasn't ever going to happen? It didn't mater if had Conserves or overpriced headphones or the home team gear. None of that shit was ever going to get him a spot at the popular table. Wasn't going to getting him to the jocks' - or whatever other fucking clique owned the school these days – good graces. He was always going to be "Two Face" or "Harvey" or "Dent". The disfigured kid, missing an ear who was hobbling around on crutches. So instead you just tell your kid not to care what other people think or say. Tell him to man up. Toughen up. Grow up. Then you just hug the shit out of them every chance you get and remind them their you're little boy and how much you fucking love them and always will. Not that that helps.

It'd been the first of too many purchases that night. If the parking wasn't fucking expensive enough. Then he'd bought the kids couple overpriced beers each. And Magoo – of course – had to have something too. Fucking Coke that cost just as much of his older kids pops. Ridiculous. Erin had tried to pull out cash to cover it. But fuck that. The kids had already doled out too much on the tickets. He wasn't going to let them pick up the supplemental costs of the evening too.

And it'd been a good evening. Good game. Got into OT and ended in a shootout until finally the Blackhawks finished it out at 3-2. Been an edge of the seat kind of game. Fun. But wouldn't have matter what kind of game it'd been. Been such a long time since he'd been to a game that just being there was nice. Being there with all his kids. That'd never happened before. Magoo was too little before. Only ever had J to the games a handful of times. Never Camille. She'd always opted out. Said if she wanted to watch the game with a bunch of drunk, macho posturing men, she could go down to Mahoney's and do it for free. She had a point but still nothing quite like taking in a game live. And with them being up in the three-hundreds and it being the holiday match-up there'd been enough families with little ones that he'd felt pretty comfortable with having Ethan in the seats. He'd experienced worse behavior at a Cubbies games anyways. As for Erin, he'd only ever had Erin to a game once – because like E, hockey just wasn't her thing.

That might be changing too, though. Maybe. He could hope. The Rehab skate had some of the sledges they used for sled hockey available to give a whirl. E had been reluctant at first. They'd take him around a couple times with him gripping the boards – and them – on his twisted feet and unsteady legs. But there'd been other people whipping around on the sledges. Voight wasn't sure if it was his J or Erin's Jay that convinced E that he wanted to give the sleds a try. He actually thought whichever one of them it was – it was only because those two supposed men wanted to give the things a try. The three of them had ended up over there getting strapped into the things.

His J had done a better job at scooting around the rink in it. But Justin was just ripped anymore. He had the upper body strength of it. And, really, Voight liked that his boy was giving fucking Halstead a run for his money. Eth, though, he got it figured out – eventually. Couldn't get up as much speed with the picks as the other guys – but he was smaller in just about every way. He'd been smiling, though. Actually talked about it after. And when the guy managing the sledges had told him about the youth sledge hockey program – which they'd been told about MANY fucking times before – Eth actually listened and didn't completely shutdown and be a little asshole to the guy.

So maybe … MAYBE … they'd found something that his boy would want to participate in again. Get him in some sports again. Get him some exercise. Build up some of his strength. And maybe get him meeting some kids who weren't going to treat him like a fucking outcast freak. That'd be good for Voight too because anymore it felt like by the end of most weeks he just wanted to go into that fucking school and bust skulls – and not always the kids'. Sometimes parents and teachers too.

Whatever the outcome, though, it'd been a good weekend. Always nice when the holidays landed on the weekend. Now with being up the chain of command and got the weekends "off". Meant he got three whole days with his kids. Only got two work-related phonecalls the whole time. Some kind of record. And the kids had been on their best behavior. Just the usual bickering – no all-out blowouts like sometimes happened when the three of them shared space.

Something you didn't realize growing up as an only child was that siblings seemed to exist purely to annoy the living fuck out of each other. Fight like fuckers. But Voight saw the good they brought out in each other too. The way the could support each other and be there for each other – especially with having the age gaps between them. Gave him some comfort to know that they'd have that – each other – even after he was gone. God willing. That things went the right order in his family and none of his babies went before him. One of his biggest fears was ever having to deal with that. Had been close enough to it with how hurt Ethan had got when he'd lost Camille. Losing his wife was enough for a lifetime. Didn't want to see one of his kids go before him but sometimes he worried with the lines of work his older two had ended up in and with E's health.

Not much point in dwelling on that, though. Couldn't predict the future. And life wasn't fair no matter how you cut it. Better to just focus on the now. And the now was that he'd gotten to have Christmas with his three kids. Got to go skating with his three kids and his grandbaby and got to have all three of his kids out together at a hockey game for the first time ever. And had a weekend where there hadn't been any screaming, yelling, crying or flying fists. And with his three – all of that was a pretty big fucking accomplishment.

"You sure Santa left those tickets in the right stocking," Platt put to his boy.

"They were Dad's," Ethan told her.

"Ahh," Platt acknowledged. "That explains it." She cast a look at him. "Sounds like Santa was pretty good to you."

"They were from us!" Ethan protested.

Voight gave his boy's shoulder a small squeeze before he went on another one of his "Santa's not real" I'm-going-to-look-a-gift-horse-in-the-mouth bemoans.

"Was," Voight agreed. "He do good at your place too?"

Platt gave him a shrug. "Old Dog tries," she allowed. "Not so good with the ladies or the romancing."

Voight gave her a thin smile. "He'll get better."

"Mmm…" Trudy rolled her eyes.

"Did Firemen Mouch get you a frying pan?" Ethan asked excitedly. "Because Dad bought Mom a frying pan the first Christ they were married! And she hated it."

Voight looked at him. "She didn't hate it. She just didn't want it for Christmas."

Ethan looked at him seriously. "Dad! She hated it! She told the story every year. J and Erin STILL tell the story for her EVERY CHRISTMAS!"

Voight looked at Platt. "It was a real nice cast iron skillet," he clarified. "And we still have it. Twenty-five years later."

Ethan looked at Platt too. "She hated it."

Voight gave his head a shake. "And she didn't ever get kitchenware for Christmas ever again after that. So … he'll learn."

Platt gave him a thin smile.

He put two containers on the counter for her and pushed them across. "After Christmas special," he said and tapped on the one lid. "Gingerbread cake with caramel sauce."

Her eyes lit up at that. "You trying to corrupt my girlish figure, Hank?" she commented but she was already taking the Tupperware and working on getting it put under the counter in a space where it'd clearly go unseen and unshared.

"Still got a few more days until New Year's Resolutions kick in, right?" he put back to her. "And a thank you," he added.

She raised an eyebrow at him and he pulled out his phone, working at calling up a photo of Henry with the stocking she'd obliged to making. He handed it to her. She allowed as much of a smile as Platt ever did.

"Getting big," she provided.

"Mmm …" Hank allowed as she handed the phone back. "He's sturdy."

He flipped around on the phone again and pulled up a photo of all the kids together with their stockings. Usually he forced them to pose for that shot before they dug in. But that year the socks had been emptied out before he had them all together.

He liked the photo. A lot. It was a cheaper. Justin had Henry in his lap. His boy a man. All grown-up and clearly settling into and enjoying his new role as Daddy. He was pulling it off. Clearly loved his baby boy. Then there was Erin and Magoo. E had ended up flopped in Erin's lap and the kid still wasn't quite too big for that. He hadn't caught what they were on about but Ethan was looking up at his sister with a smart-ass grin and Erin was looking right back down at him with that toothy laugh of hers. Whole thing reminded him how lucky he was with all his kids.

Happy kids. Happy adults. Happy grandson. They were doing OK. That made him happy too.

He handed the phone with the photo still pulled up back to Trudy again. "Fit right in real good," he said.

She looked at the picture and shook her head, pulling her reading glasses up to her eyes.

"Wow," she muttered as she stared at it. "I remember the one where it was this guy that size in Justin's lap."

"Mmm …" Hank acknowledged again as she again returned the phone to him. He smiled a little as he looked at the picture.

"Careful, Hank," she said. "Think I see a smile there. Wouldn't want people here knowing you're capable of that."

He gave her a condescending snort and kept looking at the picture for a moment. "That picture you're remembering, J would've been 'bout the age this one is now."

Platt just shook her head. "Time," she provided. "Where's it go?"

Voight shrugged. So fucking true. Where did it go. His oldest coming up on her thirtieth and engaged. His oldest boy married and a son of his own. His youngest would be a teenager in the coming year. Camille gone more than five years now. And him about to turn fifty-five years old. He had a long list of "seems like yesterday" moments. Didn't know where all the days between had materialized from.

"How you like being an uncle?" Platt put to Ethan.

Ethan gave her a look. "He drools a lot."

"He's a baby," Platt said.

"And he bites!"

Voight gave his son a look and then looked at Trudy. "He's teething," he clarified.

"He's not much fun yet," Ethan added.

Voight gave him a sterner look. "He's a baby," he emphasized again.

Ethan just looked at him. Seemed to be a concept that his boy couldn't quite wrap his head around. He was pretty sure E would've preferred that Henry be born about four or six years old so he had something that resembled a playmate. But he remembered that phase. Justin had been less than enamored with Ethan as a baby too. By the time he was playmate age, Justin wasn't quite as interested in having a playmate anymore. He just wanted his baby brother to leave him alone most of the time by then. Hopefully it'd be a bit of a different dynamic between a nephew and uncle. But that remained to be seen.

"I made the cookies!" Ethan told Platt enthusiastically, clearly sick of having to talk about Henry.

He was hurting some from having to share everyone's attention with the baby home. E was very used to being the baby of the house. There was some jealousy going on. He wanted Justin's attention. He was used to having Erin's dedicated attention most of the time. And he definitely wanted Dad's attention. He'd been going out of his way to really play up some of his health stuff to get a little extra Dad attention. Voight wasn't blind to what was going on. But he also wasn't taking chances by ignoring it either. Not after what their month had looked like.

"Oh?" Trudy raised and eyebrow at him. "Two cooks in the Voight kitchen?" she put to the kid as she reached to pop the lid on the second container.

"Yea, you're gonna want to share those," Voight added when he saw her face change slightly at the sight of the cookies. He knew why. The things looked like a diabetic coma waiting to happen with mess of icing Ethan had got on top of them.

"Dad said we had to bring all the leftovers into work today. So there'll be more upstairs, if you want them!"

"I'll be sure to let everyone know …" she said, casting Voight a look, before taking that container and placing it on the island behind the front desk. Even with the way the things looked, Voight knew patrolmen passing through would likely pack them away in short order. It was the ones upstairs in the Intelligence lunchroom that might go untouched and E was more likely to notice and ask why not one was eating his baking. Though, Ruzek and Atwater could likely polish off the whole container themselves in short order.

As she started back to the counter there was a little yelp, followed by another – and it was Ethan's turn to light up, standing on his tippy toes and trying to see over the counter. Kid was so fucking short.

"Is one of the police dogs here?"

"No," Platt said and gestured dismissively back in behind the counter, looking to Voight. "Some Grinch decided it was really in the spirit to dump a box of puppies in a snowpile in the middle of the storm—"

"THERE'S PUPPIES!" Ethan nearly screamed at her. Voight was pretty sure the kid likely just filled his urine bag based on the glee that was emitted from him.

"Yea," Platt said and dismissively gestured at Magoo to go ahead and come behind the counter. Voight gave him daggers but E was ignoring him – struggling with his fucking crutches to get behind the counter as quick as possible. Platt wasn't even watching, she was completely into her story, still giving him the play-by-play.

"Things didn't get found 'til the next day when some other buddy was digging out," she said. "Some of the little things didn't make it. So buddy takes them inside to get the living dead ones warmed up the best he can. But barely has them out of hypothermia before he's decided he wants them outta the house as quick as possible because his kids are thinking they fell of Santa's sleigh and guess Santa got that wish list wrong."

"I wanted a puppy too," Ethan said from off behind the counter. He'd found the box and managed to let himself fall to the ground in front of it. He had one of the things in his lap and Voight was still attempting to give him the evil eye. "Dad said no."

"Mmm …" Platt allowed, still hardly registering it. "So this guy has trouble getting the things somewhere that makes sense. I don't even like dogs and could tell you about ten places to call. So what's the genius do? Drops them off here and now we're waiting on the SPCA to come and get them. But with the roads still the way they are and apparently a shit ton of assholes out there leaving their animals out in this weather – coming and getting them doesn't seem to be much of a priority. So now, welcome to the 31st Pet Store. Office Hemlock – already has claimed one. Rate the pound's going, will have them all adopted before they show up to collect them."

"PEOPLE CAN TAKE THEM?" Ethan shrieked again.

Voight really did catch his eyes that time and pointed sternly at him. "No," he said.

Ethan gave him a pout and held up the little brindle colored dog that he was clutching. The thing licking at his face. "But Daddy look at him!"

"No," Voight told him again.

Ethan huffed at him and went back to stroking at one of the other dogs in the box – though the one in his lap didn't look like it had any intention of moving.

"C'mon," Voight ordered. "You wanted to see Mouse before we go over to the hospital."

Ethan shook his head. "I'll stay here with the puppies," he muttered.

Voight let out a bit of a sigh and eyed Trudy. "Got him here 'bout two hours 'til his appointment."

She gave him a little nod. Bit of an unspoken agreement they had. If shit wasn't hitting the fan – if he needed place for Eth to sit while he dealt with the job, he could sit with her.

"Put him to work," Voight told her and started to make for the palm scanner.

"Sure," she called after him. "He can feed the things. Get them to shut up for another two minutes."

He cast a look over his shoulder. "Don't bother working on the puppy dog face, Magoo," he called. "Doesn't work on me."

Trudy was already over looking down at where Eth was sitting. "We'll teach you the puppy dog sell instead," he heard her tell his boy.

Voight shook his head, as he scanned in. There was no way he was walking out of there with a dog. Forget it. But as he gave a final glance as the door swung shut, he could again see his boy glowing as the puppy lapped excitedly at his face.


	3. Circuitry

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Mouse looked up at Voight entered the equipment room. The guy near cringed. More than a year he'd been kicking around and he still seemed like he was struggling to fit in and cowering from some people. Was doing better with others though. Had earned his way up to the bullpen and having Halstead closer to him seemed to calm the guy's twitches some. Make him a bit more likeable because of it.

But even when the guy did act like a bit of an oddball – dodgy, twitchy, tech-gadget obsessed – Voight just tried to remind himself of what Magoo might look like as an adult – and what opportunities he wanted available for his son and how he wanted people to treat his boy. Mouse was someone's kid too. And he was a guy who'd served his country. So – more times than not, he gave him the benefit of the doubt even if he pissed him off sometimes. He had other young guys in his unit who pissed him off on a pretty regular basis too and they sure didn't have any brain injury or PTSD as some fucking excuse. They were just dumb fucks.

"Oh …" Mouse stuttered, sitting up from his slouched back position. He had some gadget all ripped apart in his hand, fiddling with it with a little mini screwdriver and looking completely engrossed in his work and somewhat startled to be disturbed. "Things going on upstairs?" he asked fumbling around.

Voight gave him a pout like he needed to think about it for a moment. Likely was. Or at least he hoped there was. He hoped his guys were up to their eyeballs in fucking paperwork because no bullshit had hit their intel over the holidays – so that meant they could focus on the shitty side of the job. Hand him their reports and he could get his own shit pulled together to send up to the Ivory Tower and get everyone all appeased. Off his ass.

"No," Voight put to him.

Mouse gave him that deer-in-headlights stare that he seemed to have more often than that. He either looked like that or a little manic. Such a weird little fuck. Squirrelly.

"'Cuz I just thought with it being the holiday week that I'd do some of the work on repairs and troubleshooting some of the equipment," he explained almost way to quickly and with too much gesturing. "But if you need me upstairs, you know, I can come upstairs."

"Don't need you upstairs right now," Voight said and scanned the place.

Jin had kept the storage area as a bit of a lair but Mouse was taking it to a whole new level. Shit ton of monitors and tools and weird-ass statues and knick-knacks that Voight couldn't even pinpoint what they came from. He likely didn't want to know. Hacker shit. Gamer shit. He didn't care enough to really want to know anyways. He did his job and he kept their shit working and he could have whatever toys he wanted down there.

"Good Christmas?" Voight put to him – still not looking at him.

Though, he turned as he saw Mouse twitch a bit with the question. His fingers drumming on the desk he was behind. Sitting forward more.

"Oh, yea, yea," he said with this little grimace.

Voight examined him. "Your folks in town?"

"Ah, no, no," Mouse stuttered and then gestured randomly. "But my sister. Spent it with her and her kids."

Voight gave a little nod. "Nice time?"

"Oh, yea," Mouse seemed to struggle with the small talk again. "Yea. It was nice. Got the kids Wii U with the Super Mario Maker. Lots of fun. Built. Played all weekend. Real nice to be able to afford to get them something like that this year. You know help with buying the turkey too. Real nice."

"Videogames?" Voight put to him.

"Umm, yea …" Mouse hesitated. "But like … Super Mario. You know from when like I was a kid? And you make your own levels and …"

He phased out his talking and just stared at him. Almost creepily.

"Yeah," Voight said patting the top of the counter with his hand, which only seemed to make Mouse more uncomfortable. He backed away slightly in his rolling chair. Just enough to put some distance between them. "We had a nice one too."

"Oh … that's good, boss," he nodded heartily. "Glad to hear that."

"Mmm …" Voight allowed. "Your name came up." Mouse got that deer in headlights look again. Voight just let him sweat for a minute. "You talking to Ethan when he's sitting down here?"

Mouse shook his head. "Nah, Sarge. I know he's here to do his homework. Don't bug him. Don't talk. We're all clear."

"Mmm …" Voight nodded. "That's not quite the way E tells it."

Mouse's mouth fell open slightly as he tried to find a response to that. "Well, there might've been the one time—"

"One time?" Voight pressed.

Mouse rocked back in his chair and eyed him. "Look, Boss, it's not like Ethan is super chatty or anything. Like most of the time he's pretty mute. But, you know, sometimes he kind of … like talks a lot. Like real fast. And then it just seems kind of weird to … you know … ignore him?"

"Mmm …" Voight grunted.

Mouse seemed to gulp a bit. "But, yeah, you know … I don't have to talk to him. I mean, I won't talk to him anymore."

"Mmm …" Voight allowed and tapped on the counter again. "He says you think his got some skills in this whole circuitry business."

Mouse eyed him carefully and again seemed hesitant. "Oh, yea," he finally managed to get out. "Eth's real bright. Even if he's a little weird."

Voight stared at him with a sternness. "You think my kid's weird?" he put to him firmly – almost accusingly.

Mouse's mouth dropped again as he struggled to find words. "I mean, not like –" he gestured madly at his head, as if that implied everything he needed to know about Ethan's brain damaged. "…weird. Just like even if he wasn't …" he gestured again. "He's kind of weird. Like I'm pretty sure he's recited the career highs of every player in the history of the Cubs to me at this point. And that's kind of weird. … Right?"

Voight examined him sternly and Mouse fidgeted. "Is it?"

"Yea …" he put back to him with less confidence. "But circuitry," he added quickly, sitting forward a bit. "He's real good at that, Sarge. Really. Like he really seems to get the stuff and just see the patterns. Weird to watch him process it. He'd likely be real good at coding too. Kinda neat to watch him and see with some of the stuff he comes up with."

"Mmm …" Voight allowed.

He had been watching. Watching and learning and seeing what Ethan came up with all weekend. The kit he'd gotten him had come with five workbooks. Ethan had already plowed through the first one of simply projects and concepts easily. Then he started showing Hank some of the tricks Mouse had taught him with getting the thing hooked up to the computer and controlling shit on the screen too. He'd started on the next instruction book but was picking through it at a slower pace. The projects were a bit more complicated, it seemed. But Magoo was engaged. He was focused on it in a way that Voight rarely saw him able to focus on much of anything anymore. And even with his shaking hands, he was puttering away. He wanted to get to the project that would teach him how to make a motion detector – but he was bound and determined he was going to do all the workbooks in order and that project wasn't until around the end of the third book. Though, Voight was pretty sure he might reach that before the end of his Christmas break at the way he was going. It was so fucking good to see.

"You and Halstead still sitting down here after shift putting back some pops?" he asked bluntly.

Mouse took a deep breath as he attempted to figure out how to answer that one. "That's something I don't gotta to be doing either," he finally answered with a touch of timidness.

Voight shook his head, though, and pulled his wad of cash out of his pocket. He counted out fifty bucks and put it on the counter. Mouse eyed it suspiciously.

"Next case is on me," he put flatly. "And keep talking to my kid. And he shows interest in something that he needs some equipment for to practice some of those skills, you let me know."

Mouse looked at him. There was some confusion in his eyes. "OK," he said.

Voight nodded and just started to walk away. He didn't really care if Mouse didn't get it. Maybe the circuits would start firing in his brain and he would. Point was that whatever he'd said or shown Magoo, he'd put ideas in his head that was giving his kid some motivation to see a future. A future that Voight could see too. One that he knew, if it was what Ethan wanted, he could pull strings and guide him along – and he could make it happen for him. That was worth a lot more than fifty bucks. E's future was worth a whole fucking lot more than that.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Reviews, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated and a great motivation to continue posting.**


	4. In Treatment

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

"Are you texting Dad?" Ethan asked and Erin glanced at him, giving him a little shrug.

"Yea," she acknowledged, already looking back to completing keying in her message.

"'Cuz we got put in a good room?"

She gave him a thin smile. She wouldn't exactly call it the "good room". But they both were acutely aware that they'd been put in a private exam room for his IV treatment, which usually meant there was more happening then him just sitting in a chair and having to wait for the drip to finish.

"'Cuz something's wrong?" he asked. She could see the worry in his eyes. "Are they gonna make me stay here again?"

She leaned forward and put her hand over top of his, glancing at the heart monitor that they'd attached to him. The secondary drip that involved the anti-nausea medication and a mild sedative to keep him calm during all of this – because he tended to get so worked up. It was pretty clear that something was up. The nurse had already drawn his blood and switched out the urine bag for him, taking the bag with her – presumably to run a test on.

"I think the doctor is just going to come in and take your catheter out," Erin said. "I'm just letting your dad know. We thought that was going to be later in the week."

Ethan let out a shaky little sigh. She could see his eyes watering a bit at that thought and she gripped his fingers to give him a bit of comfort. His hands felt clammy.

"It's good news," she told him. "Having it in isn't very comfortable, right?"

"No," Ethan acknowledged weakly.

"So it's good news," she stressed again.

"Is dad going to come?" he asked.

She rubbed her thumb over the top of his boney little hand. "I'm sure if the doctor says that's what he wants to do this morning and you want your dad here – your dad will be here."

Ethan eyed her. "Will it hurt?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I don't really know, Eth," she allowed. "I've never had one before and even if I did … it'd be different."

"Will I have to be naked again?"

She sighed at him and dragged her chair closer to his fancy, padded treatment recliner. She pushed some of his bangs up off his forehead. He'd been so tired and so sick and so shaky lately he hadn't spent any time fiddling with his hair despite the array of styling putties and waxes that had ended up in Hank's bathroom since Ethan had been forced by St. Iggy's to chop off his shaggy locks. Her baby brother had spent most of the fall with permanent helmet head he was putting so much product in his hair. She liked it better like this. Maybe him look more like the little boy she saw him as. Less like the teen-aged wannabe.

"The doctor will likely need you to put a hospital gown on again and you'll have to drop your pants when they're ready to take it out," she provided.

"If Dad can't come, you'll stay with me, right?" he asked weakly.

"Daddy will come if you want him here," she pressed at him.

"It's mean to make him come all the way here if it only takes a couple minutes like when they put it in. It only takes a couple minutes, right?"

She gave a little nod. "I'm sure it will be just as quick as before. Maybe quicker. But your dad doesn't care, Eth. You just need to tell him you want him here and he'll come over."

"But you'll stay with me, right?" he asked again.

She gave a little nod. "You want me here, Eth, I'll be right there next to you."

He allowed his own little nod and stared at the wall straight ahead of him. Erin let out a little sigh at that and reached to tuck the blanket around him and adjust the neck pillow.

"C'mon," she said, tapping the work iPad on his lap again. "I had Mouse go in the backend so we could get a couple movies on it. Star Wars. So you can see it before you go tomorrow."

He gave her another sad look and didn't even move to pick up the tablet that in any other circumstance he'd likely be thrilled to have in his position. The nights he got to sign on out from school, you couldn't pry it out of his hands. It was yet another item on his list of things he was saving for. He was going to be saving a long, long time. Though, Erin suspected that Hank would likely break down and get his son a tablet eventually, especially since the various learning, cognitive and behavioral therapists he was seeing also used the devices and kept showing Hank things they could be doing at home, if they had access to one of the things and some of the apps. Not that that's what Ethan wanted a tablet for. But still.

"Justin doesn't want to go to Star Wars," he said dejectedly.

She stared at him. "But you want to go to Star Wars."

"He says Point Break will be way better."

She caught his eyes. "Do you think it will be way better?"

He shrugged and looked away.

"I'll talk to him," she shook her head.

"No," Ethan said and shot her an angry look. "Then he'll know I said something and then he won't take me at all."

"Ethan, he promised to take you to a movie while he was home," she pressed back at him.

"He doesn't want to go out with me," he said. "Not in public. By himself. I can tell! So don't say anything! Or else he won't even go to a movie with me!"

She let out a little nose and looked down. It was true. Justin had been acting a little awkward around Ethan on their excursions on the weekend. He wasn't really adjusting his speed very well. He ended up ahead of them all the time. And he looked annoyed every time he had to wait – even though Hank and Justin's faces were both usually creased in permanent annoyance.

"I think he's just nervous," she said.

"He's looking at me just like everyone else," Ethan said quietly. "Like I'm broken or in a wheelchair or something."

"Eth, he just hasn't seen you in a couple months," she assured. "And we're all getting used to seeing you with the crutches. That's all."

"So don't say anything about the movie then!" Ethan argued. "Or else I won't even get to see stupid Point Break with him."

She gave him a thin-lipped smile of agreement but still tapped the iPad again. "You should still watch Star Wars," she said. "Because if Justin doesn't take you to Star Wars, me and Jay will."

He gave her a little glance. "You said you didn't really want to see it too," he said.

She gave his shoulder a little squeeze. "I'd survive without seeing Star Wars," she allowed. "But I like spending time with you. So if you want to see Star Wars – we'll go see Star Wars. Or," she offered up. "Jay had said he'd take you."

Ethan squinted at her. "Why?"

She shrugged. "Because he likes spending time with you too. And he thought maybe you guys should go out and have a bit of a chat about this whole engagement thing."

"Man to man," Ethan said confidently.

She did her best to hold back a laugh and shrugged. "If a man-to-man talk includes burgers and movies – then, yes," she agreed.

"He's taking me for burgers too?" Ethan's eyes lit up.

"So I'm told," she allowed.

Ethan grinned smugly and settled back in the chair a bit more. You'd think he was the one who'd just been proposed to with that look. But the brief moment of glee seemed to fade and he looked at her more seriously.

"How come you and Jay like hanging out with me but Justin doesn't?"

"Eth," she sighed. "He's spent lots of time with you on the weekend. You guys have been watching movies and playing videogames. Flying that helicopter and playing with the dart guns."

"Yea, so he'll only play with me INSIDE," Ethan pressed back at her. "You and Jay are going to take me to a movie and to laser tag and Dad's taking me fishing! And Justin is acting like I can't leave the house! He didn't even want to come today when I asked and all we do is watch movies for a while!"

Erin let out a slow breath and eyed her baby brother trying to find a way to explain it to him. To make clear that Justin still cared about him. That Justin did want to do things with him and be part of his life. It's just that Justin didn't really seem to know how. And, yeah, there'd been moments where it felt like Justin was dealing with a porcelain doll and not a twelve-year-old boy. Ethan might be sick. He might be frail. And he was a little slow moving. But he didn't want to be treated like any of those things. The problem was that Justin didn't have months of practice interacting with that. All he had was nightly phone calls to either him or Olive for the thirteen days Ethan was in the hospital. And then he'd come home to a kid pale, thin and on crutches. When that was all you were seeing – it was hard to settle into the reality that beyond all that Ethan was still Ethan and the biggest thing he wanted in the world was to be treated just like everyone else. Especially by his family.

"Eth …" she started and shook her head. She couldn't find the words. "He just needs time to get used to everything."

"He's leaving on Wednesday," Ethan spat.

She gave him a thin smile at that and a little shrug. What was she supposed to say? Justin wasn't going to be used to seeing his brother like that by Wednesday when he packed his wife and baby in the car. But maybe Ethan would be stronger and quicker and healthier by the next time they saw each other? Maybe Justin would be able to look passed the illness by then?

And since she couldn't find the words to reassure her baby brother, she just tapped the iPad again. "Pick something to watch," she said.

"I'm not watching Star Wars," he said defiantly.

She shrugged. "Fine, Ethan," she allowed. "Do what you want."

"Dad said I could pick the New Year's movies. So I pick Star Wars. All of them. There's six. I checked."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "What time do you think you're going to have to start watching them to have that all done for midnight?"

"ALL DAY," Ethan said with even more hostility.

She just shrugged at him and sat back in her chair, looking at her phone. "OK," she allowed. "Whatever you want."

"And you have to come over and watch them all too," he pressed at her.

She let out a little snort and gave him a glance, shaking her head. "Ah, no. I don't."

"Yes, you do," Ethan said.

She gave him a sterner look. "I'm not watching twelve hours of Star Wars movies," she said. "Two hours is my limit. I'll go with you to the new movie or I MIGHT come over and watch ONE on New Year's Eve."

"Like you have anything better to do," Ethan said with pure pre-teen tone.

"Ethan, scrubbing my toilet would constitute a better use of my time," she said with just as much tone. "And, if you want me to join you and Dad on New Year's, you could try one: Asking if I already have plans, and then if I don't, two: invite me nicely."

"What are you doing?" he spat at her.

She shook her head and looked back at her phone. "You don't get to treat me like shit just because you're pissed at Justin. After you're ready to put your big boy pants back on, we can chat."

She felt Ethan's angry little eyes drilling into her but she kept ignoring it. She was used to dirty looks from Voight men. She could give them as much as she could take them. So if he wanted to sit there and glare at her – let him. She was happy to scroll through her work email, check up on her various social media time-wasters, and look at the play-by-play texts she was getting from Jay about the giant load of nothing that was going on in the bullpen that day. Even Antonio had booked off a couple extra days – and he didn't take holidays. In some ways he was nice to be paid to be doing nothing. Some days it just sucked. Especially when the nothing days meant you were stuck to your desk and Hank was bogging you down with paperwork. Those were the days that you wondered about your career choices. Thankfully, Hank wasn't big on paperwork and somehow Intelligence yielded a whole lot less paperwork than Patrol and at least the daily paperwork was more interesting than the bullshit reports you filed on Patrol. Though, year-end paperwork was a different ball game. It made you want to gouge your eyes out. She'd like end up sitting at her desk until all hours one night just to get the shit done so Hank could get his shit done.

"I'll let you pick the movies," Ethan finally offered quietly after a good five minutes of them ignoring each other.

She gave him a downcast glance from her phone. "Try again," she said.

Ethan let out a heavy sigh. "Do you have plans for New Year's?"

She shrugged. "Don't know. Haven't really thought about it."

That was true. The lead up to Christmas had been such a gong-show and she'd been at the hospital every night after work and keeping her head down most of the time at work. She didn't know if anyone was hosting a party. She hadn't been at Molly's to hear what was going on there. Likely something. Probably slightly lame. But there'd be booze. Not that Hank liked it when he got wind of her "drinking too much." His definition of "too much" with her these days seemed to be – more than one. Jay hadn't asked her about anything. But she still figured given the circumstances of their current relationship status, her New Year's Eve likely included him.

"You want to come watch movies with me and Dad?" he tried. "You can pick the movies."

She shrugged a little. "Maybe," she allowed. "I might do something with Jay."

"I guess he can come too," Ethan said.

Erin snorted her amusement at that and gave him a look. "That was an enthusiastic invitation."

Ethan eyed her. "Maybe if you and Jay came over, you could pick the first season of Walking Dead to watch," he suggested quietly.

She let out a small laugh and gazed at him. "Your dad isn't going to let you watch Walking Dead."

"Why not?!" he demanded with a flicker of anger again.

She gave him another warning look. "Did your dad let you watch Fight Club?"

"That's a movie. Walking Dead is just a TV show," he argued.

She shook her head. "You aren't going to get to watch Walking Dead. It's scary."

"It's not that scary," he contended. "It's just zombies."

She rolled her eyes. "It's violent. And there's some sex or nudity."

"So?"

"So your dad isn't going to let you watch it," she put to him. "Ask him again in about three years."

Ethan huffed and crossed his arms but it caused his IV line to tug and he let his arms fall back into place.

"Well, have you seen it?"

She shrugged and looked back to the phone as it chimed with another text from Jay. "Yeah, I've seen it," she muttered as she read.

"All of it?"

She gave him a glance. "Mmm … Not all. But I've seen it."

"So do you think he should be allowed to ban it?"

She let out another quiet laugh and cast him a look. "That's not an area where what I think matters much," she said.

"Why not?"

"Because TV is one of the things your dad is strict about and it's not really an area I'm willing to go toe-to-toe with him on, Ethan. It's just TV."

"He's strict about everything," Ethan moaned at her.

"It's because he loves you," she mumbled, smiling at the absurdity that Jay was sending. He was bored out of his mind and seemed slightly jealous about her getting to take a break to sit in the hospital with her brother. That was definitely a level of boredom to make her "lunch break" suddenly sound appealing.

"He won't let me eat chocolate or cookies because he loves me?" Ethan mumbled at her.

She glanced up from her phone, giving him a condescending look. "He let you eat chocolate and cookies on Christmas."

"LIKE TWO," Ethan argued.

She just shrugged and shook her head. "That's enough. Too much of that stuff is bad for you anyways. Make you fat."

"Everyone's always saying I'm too thin," he pushed at her.

She let out a little sigh and looked up from the phone, shoving it back in her pocket. Apparently he wasn't going to settle and play on the tablet or watch a movie that treatment. They were going to chit-chat the whole time.

"You know what the doctors are saying about you eating certain foods," she put back to him.

"That I'm not allowed to eat nothing!" he pressed at her.

"No," she shook her head. "That there are some studies that show certain foods can contribute to M.S. flare ups and that eliminating some foods help with dealing with some of the symptoms."

Ethan gave her an angry little boy face but she just shrugged.

"We can have the doctor explain it again when he comes in and you can talk about it with the dietician again the next time you see her," she said.

"Can they tell me why a dog is bad for me too?" Ethan pressed at her.

Erin rolled her eyes. "Ethan, it doesn't matter how much you whine – your dad is not going to let you have one of those puppies."

"WHY NOT?" Ethan demanded. "Someone was mean to them. They need a home."

"And they're puppies. They're going to get adopted quickly and will be in a home soon."

"So why can't we adopt one?" he pleaded.

She cocked her head and let out a little sigh. "Ethan, dogs are a lot of work. Dad will end up –"

"NO HE WON'T!" Ethan protested. "I'll take care of him. He'll be my dog!"

She gave him more serious eyes. "You'll take him out in the three feet of snow for walks while you're learning how to walk on crutches yourself."

"Yes!" he whined.

She shook her head. "No, Ethan. You won't. Dad will end up doing it. Or more likely, I'll get stuck with doing it."

"So why don't you adopt him!" he plead. "Please, Erin! Please! Did you go see him?"

"I saw the dogs, Ethan. And I don't have room for a dog in my condo. I'm never even at my condo."

"So, see. He could live with me and Dad! But we could say he's yours!" he suggested excitedly.

She sighed. She knew how much he wanted a dog. He'd been pleading for a dog for years but lately it seemed to have reached a different level. It wasn't just pleading anymore. It was an all out beg. And there was such a sincere urgency to it.

"Ethan—" she started firmly only to be interrupted.

But he just gave her puppy dog eyes. "Please, Erin," he begged. "He'd be my friend. He'd play with me and sit with me and go outside with me. And he couldn't care! He wouldn't care about any of this! Please. I really want him. Please."

She just gazed at him. She didn't know how to argue with that. He was always finding ways to break her heart. Into a million little tiny pieces.


	5. Parenting

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Voight slid onto the stool next to Erin at the bar. She tried to ignore him. Give him the cold shoulder. But he just took that as an excuse to grip at her shoulder.

"C'mon," he said with a touch of tenderness. "Finish your drink. I'll drive you back to the house."

He knew she was angry. More than that – she was hurting. Just frustrated. And he understood. He hated the way she was showing it. That there was going to be collateral damage that she'd likely regret later. But she could be so stubborn sometimes, getting her to see that could be a rough go.

She gave her head a small shake. "I'm going to sleep at my place tonight."

He shrugged at her. "OK," he agreed. "But come grab some dinner. Someone will give you a lift after."

She shook her head again and gave him a frown. "I can't do it tonight," she said flatly. "And I know you don't want any blow-ups this holiday. So I'm just … going to call it a night. Take some time."

He eyed her. Her and Justin had gotten into it when she'd been dropping Ethan off at home after his hospital appointment. Of course, neither her or Justin had told him that. He didn't know if it was because they were "grown-ups" and wanted to just work it out on their own. If it was because he'd rammed into their heads so much as kids he didn't want to hear any of the fucking tattling. Or if it was because he'd repeatedly told all three of his kids, that all he wanted that holidays was to get through them without the three of them having it out with each other. So they somehow thought that him not being there to see their blowout would hide the fact it happened.

That hadn't really worked when Erin had come back to the barn still fuming and had decided to avoid telling him what had gone on – she'd just not talk to him period. Which might've been fine in other circumstances. But it'd been one of the first appointments of Ethan's that he hadn't been there for. He'd wanted a powwow with her. Details. Instead he got her as moody and snarky as fuck with answers to his questions that only served to piss him off too. But it hadn't taken him long to piece together what was going on.

Her and Justin had gotten through about five days of tolerating each other. Likely some sort of record. Now they were in a snit about who was who and what was what and roles and responsibilities and "golden child" bullshit all over again. On cue. Did kids – siblings – ever out grow this? He was starting to doubt it. The dynamics of it just seemed to get more fucking complicated with age and their own lives and own families and his own aging and problems and responsibilities while he tried to get his last child to adulthood.

Who was he fucking kidding? He was still trying to get all three of his kids to adulthood. Apparently adulthood had just as many stages as fucking childhood anymore. He was really starting to understand that when you were still around – your kids are your kids for the rest of your life. In whole other ways than he imagined. It wasn't just that you loved them your whole life. The responsibilities, advice, worry and guidance – and getting them out of and through dumb shit – continued. It just got more fucking complicated, convoluted – and downright exhausting – the older they all got.

"Henry's only this age once," he put to her. "They change fast at this age. Gonna be a completely different kid the next time you see him if you pull a disappearing act here."

She gave him a look – a bigger frown. But again shook her head in the negative and lifted her drink to her mouth.

"Erin," he said a little more sternly. "They're only here a couple more days. Justin's not even going to be around tonight. He's going out with the fellas for a few pops."

She snorted her disgust at that while she still had her whiskey up to her mouth. The disgust was so apparent that he thought the liquor might end up coming out her nose and draining back into her glass. But she just shook her head even more annoyed and cast him a dirty look.

"He need a big night out after having to watch Ethan all of six hours?" she spat at him. "Must be nice."

"Don't get your shorts in a knot," he put to her sternly.

She smacked her glass down on the counter and glared at him. "He treated me like I was the fucking nanny, having to head off early and ruining his plans for the day."

Hank let out a slow breath and eyed her. "Henry's teething. He's fussy. Him and Olive haven't been getting much sleep—"

She laughed and shook her head in that disbelief she pulled off so well. "They aren't getting much sleep?" she said angrily. "The baby's fussy? Funny. When's the last time you slept, Hank? Because it's been almost three weeks since I've gotten a full night's sleep. I'd say it's been since about April since I've had a real sleep."

He gave her a warning look. "He didn't mean it the way you're taking it," Hank put to her.

She just ran her tongue along her teeth and gestured to the bartender for another.

"Erin," he said more firmly. "C'mon. I'm gonna do up a quick batch of bolognese. Take a break from the turkey leftovers."

"They couldn't get that going for the family themselves?" she muttered. "When we're at work until …" she glanced at her phone and shook her head again.

He knew it was pushing seven. By the time he had super on the table, J and Olive would be off doing their bath and bedtime routine with H. And as soon as the baby was out, J would be biting at the bit to get out with his friends for the night. He was going to hardly get to see his oldest or his grandson that night. And he hated losing out time with them because he had to deal with a snit between Erin and Justin.

"They're guests," Hank put to her flatly.

She let out an annoyed sound. "Must be nice," she said. "How do I get on that list?"

He frowned at her. "You don't want on it," he said.

She raised her eyebrow at him and reached to take a long gulp out of the fresh drink that had been plopped in front of her.

"Seems like 'guests' have a lot less responsibility in this family," she said as she swallowed. "Sounds pretty good to me."

Voight let out a slow breath and stared straight ahead, running his tongue through his mouth.

"Is that what this is about?" Hank asked flatly without looking at her but finally rotating his head. "Ethan asked for you to take him. You could've said no. I would've taken him."

"You have the year-ends," she muttered.

He shrugged. "And they'll get done. Whether I have to take a couple hours to get E to his appointment or not."

"He was crying," Erin said flatly.

"He wasn't crying when you called," Hank pressed back at her. "If you couldn't handle being there. If E wanted me there – that's all either of you had to say. I would've come or I would've told the doc to hold off."

Erin looked at him. Her eyes were watery – more with anger and frustration than any sort of sadness.

"I was there for him," she pushed at him. "Again. I held his hand. Again. Wiped his tears. Again."

"I know you were, Erin," he told her more gently.

"And then I take him home and I get treated like the fucking babysitter – delivering the kid damaged. Fucking up their day." She looked at Hank. "He was sore and sedated, Hank. It wasn't even like they were going to have to do anything beyond check on him a couple times. He's likely been sleeping it off all afternoon. And still Justin …" she shook her head.

"Erin, I know," he stressed again. "And, whatever Justin said or did – what you've got to remember is that I don't see you as his babysitter or his nanny. And, E doesn't either. He wanted his big sister. He didn't ask for his big brother."

"He did ask Justin," she spat at him. "He said no. They were busy."

Voight let out a slow sigh. He had seen Justin distancing himself from Ethan a bit. But his interpretation of it was that Justin just wasn't sure how to act around him. Voight understood that in a way. Sometimes he didn't know how to act around him. Mostly he just kept treating him the way he always treated him. Though, he also knew he'd had to let himself soften some. Had to adjust his parenting and some of his approaches. But he hadn't gotten a lot of one-on-one time with his oldest boy to try to encourage him to stop looking at his brother sideways. Ethan was still the same kid as before.

He hadn't realized that Justin had downright declined to go with Ethan to the hospital, though. He wasn't that surprised by that. Justin had never been that comfortable with the hospital. Not since their family's experience in it five years ago. And even if Justin had wanted to go, Voight likely would've gone himself too. He didn't trust Justin to deal with anything that came up there the way he trusted Erin. He wasn't as aware of the situation and Ethan's needs. It just wouldn't make sense to have him there alone with E.

He watched as Erin let out an angry sigh and took a long swig of her drink. He reached for his phone and planted it on the bar, calling up the photo of his three kids and grandson with their stockings. He shoved it over to her. She gave it a cursory glance.

"I like that photo," he provided. She just shrugged at him. "Know what I like about it?"

She let out an annoyed breath. "What do you like about it, Hank?" She definitely was humoring him. She knew she was going to get told whether she wanted to know or not.

He tapped on the side with Justin and Henry – it blowing the two of them up a bit.

"I look at him there. See that look on his face with his son in his lap. And it gets me thinking that maybe all those years of parenting – for all the mistakes I made with all three of you – that I did some things right."

She gave him a patronizing look. She could almost feel her roll her eyes, though she resisted doing it.

He dragged his finger across the screen to bring up her and E instead. He gave it a thin smile again.

"What was he saying there to you?" he asked, casting her a look.

She shrugged and sipped at her drink. "I don't remember. An Ethan-ism."

"Hmm," Voight grunted. That sounded about right. Ethan came out with a lot of those. Ethan-isms. Good way of putting it. "Like this side of the photo lots too."

She gave him another condescending glance and went back to her drink again.

"Erin," he pressed at her. "I could hand this phone over to you. We could call up all the photos on yours. Or Ethan's. Or Justin's. But you aren't going to find Ethan smiling like that at anyone but you."

She gave him eyes and let out a little sigh.

"He loves you," he stressed to her.

"He loves Justin too," she provided.

Voight shrugged. "Yea," he agreed. "He does. As his older brother. But he adores you. He doesn't see you as a babysitter or a nanny. You're his big sister. And if the three of us lined up – it'd be you he'd pick over and over."

She snorted and really did roll her eyes at that. "I don't think so," she muttered.

Hank leaned into her space, leaning forward to force her to make eye contact with him.

"I know so," he told her. "You and E, you've got a bond that I'm not going to pretend to entirely understand. I don't know if it's because brothers and sisters are different than just brothers. Or if it's because you're a woman. You mother him."

She sighed and shook her head. "I don't try to be his mother, Hank," she corrected in sadden staccato.

He reached and gripped her hand tightly. So tightly that she cast him a lot. "I know," he assured. "But you do mother him. We both know that. And that's OK. You're able to cater to some of his emotional needs in a way … I'm just not made for. I just can't. But you can. And nothing Justin says or does can take any of that away from you."

She shook her head and gazed at the bar. "I'm just … sick of being his scapegoat for all of this."

Voight reached and briefly cupped the back of her head until she cast him a look. "It's just your turn," he said. "My number was up a couple years ago. I took the flak. He's just directing it a different way right now."

"He needs to grow up," she mumbled.

Voight sighed. "Erin, he's jealous," he told her.

She snorted and looked at him annoyed. "Of what?"

He shrugged. "Lots. That you're home."

"I live here," she spat.

"Don't you think he wants to?" he put back to her. She just shook her head and stared off down the bar. "Jealous of our relationship."

She cast him an angry look at that. "I'm not the golden child. He just has to look at the spring to see that. You're just as hard on both of us. You treat us the same."

He shook his head at her. "Neither of you are golden. But I don't treat you the same."

She flaired her nostrils. "Yes. You do," she muttered.

"I don't," he stressed, getting in her line of vision. "He's my son. And you're my daughter. Your both my kids. But you're your own people with your own problems and causing your own pains in my ass. I don't treat you the same."

She cast him an unbelieving look. Voight just gave her a thin smile, and placed his hand over hers again.

"Your son's your son until he gets a wife. Your daughter's your daughter for the rest of your life," he told her.

She gave him a sad smile at that and placed her hand over top of his – giving them a little pile.

"I know you've had a lot of responsibility in this family since Ethan's come home," Hank put to her. "But there's positive payoff to that too, Erin. And I appreciate it. And Ethan appreciates it. And Justin's jealous of all that too, OK? It's brought the three of us closer. And he feels like he's on the outskirts of it. He's off living his own life, raising his own family. But he's still a young guy even if he's turning into the man we want him to be. We need to keep giving him time and be patient. All of us say stupid, hurtful shit to each other. He said it. He likely feels bad about it now. So let's just move on. OK?"

She let out another slow sigh and eyed him. She shrugged. "Fine, but Hank, really … I just … I want to go home and sleep in my own bed. Spend some time with Jay."

"Mmm…" he nodded and picked up his phone and flicked around, putting it to his ear. She gazed at him questioningly. But by then Halstead had picked up on his end. "You still at the barn?" he asked. The kid was. "Listen, Erin's going to come around for dinner. Get a bit of Henry time. You want to swing by and join us? Give her a lift home?" Voight glanced at his watch. "Should have it on the table by about 8. … OK." He looked at Erin who gaped at him. "We'll have you out the door by 9:45," he told her. "Come play with your nephew and read a few pages of Jurassic Park to E at lights out."

She gazed at him. "Thought he was supposed to be reading that book to you?"

Voight shrugged. "That's why he likes – and needs – his big sister. She'd got her own approach to things."

He stood from the stool, pulling out some bills and tossing them onto the bar to pay for her drinks, then gripping at her shoulder.

"C'mon," he encouraged. "Gotta stop at Carmine's. Get that crusty bread you like. Get some garlic toasted thrown in the oven for you. And get something other than whiskey in that belly."

She eyed him again for a moment but then allowed her agreement – getting up off the stool and leading the way out of the bar.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: There's a chapter before this with Erin and Ethan at the hospital. Think a lot of people missed it based on readership numbers and it once again looks like FF didn't update it on the site.**


	6. Table Talk

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

"Hey, Magoo," Hank greeted as he carried the grocery bag into the kitchen and settled it on the counter.

Hank was a little surprised that Ethan was downstairs considering he'd likely overheard – or become collateral damage – in Justin and Erin's standoff. Sounded like he might have a couple reasons of his own to be giving his brother the cold shoulder too. But he likely was giving Justin the cold shoulder. Because Hank didn't doubt that his youngest had heard him and Erin come in the front door. Talking with Justin and Olive and Henry in the front room. But his boy hadn't come to greet him.

Something Hank had learned – at least with his family, his kids – was that if you made a habit out of greeting them when you got home. If you hugged them and talked to them and asked them about their day and let them know you were happy to be home and with them. If you didn't just disappear to get changed or take a shower or grab a nap or crash in front of the television. If you kept the routine of interest and engagement – they kept it up too.

Sure – Ethan didn't hang in the window waiting for Daddy's car to pull up the street anymore. He didn't run shrieking to the door looking for hugs and roughhousing. But he did appear out of the woodwork. He'd come out of his room. He'd move away from the TV or the computer in the den. He'd come to the front door and he'd allow the one-armed hug and endure the grilling about his school day even though the answers Hank usually got about the day anymore were one word: "Fine", "OK", "Whatever." Sometimes he got two words: "I guess".

Still – he valued that bit of time with his son. The bit of physical affection he was allowed to give his boy. The fact his kid still came to see that he'd gotten home safely. That he wanted him home safely. That counted for a lot. And it was those kinds of little things. Daily routines and mundanities that truly made up family and set up the structure of your life and the foundations of how your kids would treat others and eventually raise their own families. So he plugged away at it.

Ethan looked up at him from the table. He had his Snap Circuit set all sprawled out, completely engrossed in a project. His fucking dinosaur was sitting on the table with him. Standing guard. Or being his wingman. Likely a bit of both.

"Hi, Dad," he mumbled.

Hank went over and eyed the workbook and where Ethan was at with following the instructions.

"What you working on?" he asked.

Ethan put his finger on the project at the top of the page. "This one."

"Yea," Hank acknowledged. "But what is it?"

Ethan shrugged. "I don't know."

"Hmm …" Hank grunted and eyed his kid. "Well, I think you're going to like it." Ethan glanced at him and Hank tapped at the text of the project name and the description of its objectives. "Read it," he ordered gently.

Ethan gave him a frown and shook his head. Hank let out a little sigh and watched his boy snap some of the circuits together. His hands weren't shaking that badly that afternoon. That was a good sign.

It was interesting watching E with the kit. He definitely got the sense that Ethan liked that it was something where he didn't have to read a lot to understand. There were a lot of written instructions with each project. The learning objective was outline. An explanation of how the circruity and various components worked was all written out if it was introducing a new concept that wasn't covered earlier in the books. But every project was also illustrated with a step-by-step placement almost like Lego, showing how to place the various parts. That was something Magoo could follow along without having to laboriously process the text and jargon.

The thing was, Voight didn't think it was all jargon to Magoo. Some of it he'd likely picked up from Mouse but other aspects of it – E just seemed to intuitively know. Whenever E brought over his finish project to show off his creation, Hank was making a point of asking him how it worked. Ethan fucking knew too. Could explain what the various parts did. How it was all making it work. It was really strange to see him process it. To understand it. But it was making him proud.

It felt really good to see his boy doing something that was educational. Not just educational – but vocational. And to not see him struggling feverishly with it. It wasn't a chore. It just was something he was good at. They all needed that.

"You want me to tell ya?" Hank asked.

Ethan shook his head. "No," he said. "I want to see."

Hank nodded and watched him place another piece and reached to smooth down some of his static locks. The kid had likely been sleeping in one of his beanies all afternoon. Bed head, hat head and static all combined together. No wonder his kid always looked so unkempt.

"How you feeling?" he asked.

Ethan shrugged at him. That usually meant not great.

"You take a leak since you've been home?" he asked.

Ethan cast his eyes over to him and shook his head. E and Erin had been stuck in the hospital for an extended period after they'd pulled out the catheter because they weren't going to let them leave until Ethan emptied his bladder on his own – and did it without pain or blood. It'd taken a while and several bottles of water before Ethan was able to take a leak. And there'd been pain and blood – so now they had fucking anti-biotics added to his mix of drugs on top of everything else. And, he was going to have to start pissing regularly on his own, if they wanted to keep the catheter out.

"You been drinking?" Hank asked.

"I stayed upstairs," he said quietly. "Until it was home time. But you guys are late."

Hank flopped the front and back of his hand against Ethan's forehead, just making sure things felt kosher.

"I know," he allowed. "Sorry, Kiddo. I'm going to get some dinner on the table for you soon."

"I ripped up the lettuce, put out the ingredients and set the dining room table and set out the plates," Ethan told him.

Hank gave him a thin smile and a little squeeze of the shoulder. "Good man," he told him. "That's a big help."

Two lines he'd realized that he might not have said to his two older kids enough. They were words Ethan definitely needed to hear, though. Make his contributions have value. Keep him participating. And keep him moving forward.

Voight wandered over to the tap, switching it on and letting it run cold while he pulled the few fresh ingredients out of the brown bag and set them on the counter. Got the skillet out, drizzled it with oil and then started to work at getting it warmed up. Then he went and grabbed a glass from the cupboard, filled it with water and retrieved Ethan's pain pills from the top shelf of the highest cupboard, taking them back over to his boy. He put the glass next to Ethan, who glanced at it, and sat across from him while he popped the lid on the pills.

"You hurting?" he asked.

Ethan cast him a look and gave him another shrug. Getting his son to admit he was in pain was another chore. Ethan was likely to try to tough through it. It was a good thing in some way. He wanted his boy to not turn to pills as a cure all. To be able to tough through things to a point. But he also didn't want his son to be toughing through so much that he was constantly living in a state of pain.

"I wanted one before but J say he didn't know where they were," Ethan informed him. "I told him but he said he wasn't gonna give me one."

"Hmm …" Hank allowed and cast a look through to the front room. Pretty much looked like hell was frozen over in there with the chill factor going on between J and Erin. Olive was trying to keep it friendly and H was oblivious. But still. "Likely best J doesn't get involved with your pills," Hank conceded. "He doesn't know what's what."

Ethan eyed him and then provided, "I don't want one now."

"Mmm …" Hank grunted and weighed that some more. He didn't really believe him. So he just put one on the table, next to the glass. He'd see if it was still sitting there in a bit. "Tell you what, Magoo, you gonna be spending a good chunk of the day alone, if you haven't taken one yet that day – I'll leave one with you to manage on your own. I can trust you with that, right? There won't be any of this hoarding and selling the shit again."

"No," Ethan allowed.

Voight nodded. "And there isn't going to be any of this trick the kid at the gym showed you. Snorting the pills."

Ethan eyed him again. "You can feel it better and faster that way," he said.

Hank shook his head. "You can feel it just fine swallowing it down. I don't want you getting in the habit of shoving powder up your nose. I catch wind of you doing that again and there's not going to be pain pills in the house. You need a pain hit and we'll have to go into the E.R. and wait for them to give it to you as a drip. We clear?"

"Yes," Ethan said quietly.

Hank nodded and rose from the chair, moving back to the cupboard to return the pills and really starting into getting his sauce going. He cast frequent glances Magoo's way. He didn't hold off too long before he ended up taking the pill and chugging most of the glass of water. Kid was likely dehydrated from sleeping off the IV all afternoon in the bunk room that Hank had a gas heater and electric blanket going in for him. E had on the oversized heated hoodie he'd borrowed for him too and when he'd touched his kid, he'd still felt cold. No bulk to him. No circulation. Just not generating any heat. Voight didn't know how to get him warmed up. Was about at the point he thought he was going to have to outfit him permanently in long johns, get him flannel lined jeans, buy him his own battery-powered hoodie and socks and then bundle him up in Carharts. Maybe that would keep him from being an ice block.

He hadn't been at his cooking too long when Justin appeared in the kitchen, casting a look at Ethan.

"E, go hang with them in the living room. I gotta talk to Pop," he ordered.

Voight cast Justin stern eyes and held up a hand at Ethan, who was clearly reluctant to move or follow orders from his brother.

"He's fine where he is," Hank said to his oldest boy. "He's doing his thing."

J shot him a look but then stormed off and slouched against the counter next to the stove. No offer to help. No initiative to do a bit on his own. Couldn't even offer to fill up the fucking pot to get the water boiling. But that had always been Justin. Wasn't much in the way of chores – especially ones in the kitchen. Not that Hank thought cooking was a chore. Part of being the man of the house – the husband and father – was providing. Getting the food on the table. Sure – being able to have the cash flow to do that for your wife and kids was one thing. But you were missing out on the more fulfilling part if you never rolled up your sleeves and made your family a fucking meal. If you didn't have a set of dishes that your kids knew it was Dad who made and ones they looked forward to and asked for. You had to get some of your meals on your kids favorite list. Ones they kept coming home for. Ones they asked for the recipes for to make for their own kids or their own roommates or just because they needed a taste of home. That was part of being a man too. But somehow he'd missed out on getting that drilled into J's head. He was doing better with Ethan there. Slowly teaching him how to cook. Do meal prep. Help out.

Sometimes time gave you perspective. Maturity. Past experiences. Maybe he'd end up doing the whole dad and parenting thing the third time around. Maybe the girl who snagged Magoo would be luckier than she knew. That could be his hope. A goal.

"Look, Pops, I don't know what Erin told ya," Justin started.

But Hank held his wooden spoon at him to silence him. "We aren't doing this now," he said sternly.

Justin gave him a pleading look. "Pop, c'mon. I'm going out tonight. You got me takin' Eth to the movie tomorrow—"

Voight gave him a sterner look. "I don't have you doing anything," he said firmly. "You told your brother you were taking him to a movie while you were home. That plan changed – you take it up with him. Not me."

Justin sighed. "I just mean—we're rolling out Wednesday morning. If we don't chat about this now. When we gonna talk about it?"

Hank looked at him sternly. "We aren't," pressed and looked over at Ethan. "Magoo, you want rigatoni or fusilli?"

"Spaghetti," Justin provided.

Hank cast him eyes. "Wasn't asking you," he said. Justin near rolled his eyes at him but he just moved his look back to Ethan, softening his look for his younger son.

"Is it the rice pasta?" Ethan asked.

"Rice pasta?" Justin groaned. "Like Asia noodles? For Bolognese?"

"It's brown rice pasta," Hank provided for Ethan's sake but directed firmly at Justin.

It annoyed the fuck out of him how little J was absorbing about Ethan's diet. He'd protested some of the shifts in their traditional holiday menus already. Put on a show. Like his twelve year old wasn't noticing the absence of this shit on a daily basis for his brother to be pointing out that it was missing from their holiday plates. And Hank had been less stringent with E the past few days. Planned to be straight through until New Years. Let Ethan have a few treats – in moderation. Then it's his son in his 20s that he's hearing fucking whining from. He hadn't heard a peep about it from Ethan – even when the chocolates got set up out of his easy reach and the cookies and leftover gingerbread cake got taken into work that day. But J? Different story. Even Olive had said something about it to him and his fucking dense skull hadn't absorbed it.

"Fusilli," Ethan said confidently. "It's easier and gets LOTS of sauce."

Justin made a face but Hank just shot him another disapproving look, going and getting the bag of store-bought pasta opened and reading the boil time. Seemed like every kind of this brand was different. But at least this stuff wasn't a fucking sticky mess of mush when you were done with it. Actually looked and tasted like pasta. Didn't sit as heavy in your stomach either. Hank still preferred to make his own fresh but this was pretty decent as far as dried, store-bought shit went.

But Justin just kept eyeing him. "Pops … seriously …" he pleaded.

Voight gave him another glance. "From what I've heard about it, when we can talk about it is after H has his first ear infection. After he's got his first fever in the middle of the night and you've got him in at Emergency."

"Pops—" Justin sighed.

Voight shook his head, giving a small glance into the front of the house as he heard a knock at the door. He saw Erin head for it. Must've seen Halstead come up the stoop.

But he shifted his dead serious eyes back to his oldest boy. "When that happens, son, I want you to take some time to think on what you're thinking and feeling in those moments. Not just then. Not at the hospital or in the doctor's office. The lead up to the decision to take H in. And then those hours or days after you get him home. And after you've really taken all that in and done some serious reflection – you call me up and we can have a real long chat about whatever the hell went on between the three of you today. Until then, J, I'm not listening to anymore about it. It gets your sister upset. It gets your brother upset. The tension is upsetting your wife and baby. And all of it just fucking pisses me off."

Justin let out a slow breath but let his hands fall away from his slouch against the counter and he started to trudge out. Voight watched. Jay and Erin were coming into the kitchen, just as J left and he did the best to give them both pissed off glares. His two young detectives returned just as steely eyes, Erin leaning against the doorway and crossing her arms, making sure to really glare down her brother as he passed. Blocking so much of the entranceway, it forced Justin to nudge into her and try to tower over her with his dirty look. Still fucking moody-ass kids – even now.

"Hi, Sarge," Halstead offered after the Showdown Show moved on. "Thanks for inviting me."

Voight gave a shrug and turned back to what he was doing but Halstead got back into his line of sight and held up a bag of store-bought brownies at him, jutting his head over in E's direction.

"Gluten-free and dairy-free," he offered quietly.

Voight let out an inward sigh. His son couldn't fucking get it and then ten seconds later he's got this ass-wipe here that does. Because he was with Erin? Because he'd dealt with a mother who was sick? Because his brother was a doctor? He didn't fucking know. But he didn't know if it made him feel better or worse knowing that fucking Halstead got it and his own son didn't.

"Sugar?" Voight put to him.

Jay glanced at the back of the bag. "Sixteen grams per two."

"Yea," Voight allowed and waved him over to his kid. "Two."

Ethan would be hungry – even if it was eating dessert before dinner. And if he'd put two of the brownies in his stomach, Voight might be able to chase it with the night pills. Get a bit of a jumpstart rather than the fight to get him to eat some dinner so he could get his pills.

Erin gave him a thin smile at his allowance. But he just shook his head. "You need some help, Hank?" she offered.

And his own annoyance with Justin blossomed a bit more. His disabled kid readies the salad and sets the table. His kid who's been in the hospital with his sick kid all morning and then putting in more than a day's work all afternoon and evening is the one offering kitchen help. And Justin? Who should still be in the period of trying to impress his wife and do penance to his family – play fucking nice with everyone – waltz in and out of there with ruffled fucking feathers.

Hank waved her away, though. "I'm good," he said. "You're supposed to be enjoying your nephew. So go enjoy your nephew."

She gave him a little shrug and shifted her eyes to look at Jay, who'd planted himself at the kitchen table with Ethan. But apparently she was satisfied that the two of them were OK and that he wasn't going to bust Jay's balls and she retreated too. Hopefully to cuddle Henry – not to stand-off with Justin again.

"Heard you had a kind of shitty day," Hank heard Jay say to his boy as he settled the bag of desserts on the table. "And my Mom used to say that chocolate fudge brownies were the cure all to any bad day." Ethan eyed the bag and Jay reached to open it for him, looking inside. "Now, hers were homemade. Actually, we usually made them together after that super shit day. But these don't look half bad." He tilted the bag at Ethan. "Want one?"

Ethan eyed his cautiously and cast Voight a glance for permission but as soon as he spotted the nod, his hand at fumbled in, pulling out one of the bite-sized treats. Voight allowed a little smile at that and went back to working on the sauce, listening to the two of them at the table.

"You know what else I hear?" Jay asked as Ethan swallowed his first bite. The kid shrugged. "That we're going to be doing burgers and a movie later this week." He held up a fist for a fist bump. Ethan complied. "What we going to see?"

Ethan shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it depends on what Justin takes me to tomorrow."

Jay made a face like he was considering that. "Yea, well, you know, I can find someone else to see Star Wars with if I have to. It's OK." Ethan gave him a thin smile and Jay leaned forward. "You know what else looks pretty killer?"

Ethan sat up a bit straighter. "What?" he asked excitedly.

"In the Heart of the Sea. Big ass whale. Moby Dick. Awesome CGI. Might be better than Star Wars," he argued.

"It's not going to be better than Star Wars," Ethan provided.

Jay shrugged. "Yea. You're likely right. But I think it's going to be pretty great. So what do you say?"

Ethan shrugged back at him. "Yea, OK," he allowed. "If I've seen Star Wars. If not – I want to see that."

"Well, Frackin' A, Kid. Obviously if we both haven't seen Star Wars – we're going to see that," Jay agreed.

Jay leaned back in the chair and eyed Voight for a moment. He could clearly tell he was being observed but Hank just kept puttering away with dinner. He was slowly getting used to seeing Ethan have interactions with Jay. He'd had to. It'd developed over the summer. It just developed more into the fall and now it was clear it wasn't going to end.

He hadn't said it to Erin. But he knew Justin was jealous of that too. Hank didn't know what to say about it, though. He thought Justin had a right to be jealous in some ways on that front. Another man was moving in with his baby brother. He was getting to do some of the fun things that brothers wanted to do with their kid brothers. But even if Jay was getting some of that – Halstead had also endured some of the dirty work of his partner-friend-girlfriend-lover-fiancé having a sick kid brother too. He'd had to share time and attention. He'd had to deal with outings and visits and activities crashed by E. Things put on hold because E showed up or needed Erin's attention. Halstead had been in the hospital. He'd ended up cleaning piss and vomit. Voight had heard as much. And, he didn't doubt that Halstead could likely list off more about E's condition and his pills and his treatment plan than Justin could. Understood it more. But he was there and Justin wasn't. And it meant that he was more informed. He'd endured more of the crappy shit of it all and he'd earned some of the fun things.

Voight couldn't really rob Ethan of that relationship. Trying to regulate it too much would be just a tedious and turbulent as when he'd tried to regulate Erin's relationship with Halstead. It'd blow up in his face. Erin would despise him for it. And in the end – he wouldn't have a hell of a lot of say.

At least Halstead seemed to mostly respect his boundaries and his rules when it came to his youngest. Voight just had to cope with him being around and cope with him having a relationship with his boy – not just his daughter. And it was best they all wrapped their head around that now rather than later. Especially now.

"I think your whole holidays are going to be worth bragging about," Halstead continued to philosophize with Ethan. "First – you got some pretty awesome stuff for Christmas. Erin told me you guys got the order in for your shoes?"

"Yea!" Ethan nodded heartedly. He was so excited about those shoes. Hank wouldn't have even thought of that. Didn't even know you could design your own. This is why his kid need siblings – not an old fart like him. "They're supposed come in two weeks."

"Awesome," Halstead allowed and then held up another finger. "And you went skating and played sledge hockey. That was pretty bad ass." Ethan nodded and Halstead popped up another finger. "And you went to a Blackhawks game." Ethan nodded again. Another finger went up. "You're going to get to go to two movies."

"And burgers," Ethan clarified.

"And burgers," Halstead agreed and then popped up another finger. "You're going to hit up the fishing hole with your dad."

Ethan nodded even more excitedly at that and Hank felt his balls retreat into himself at the thought. But at least he'd get some time with his boy when he was happy about something. How'd they do with it or how long E would be able to handle the cold – that was another story.

"On the weekend," Ethan said.

"And!" Halstead said, waving a final finger. "I hear you're having a movie marathon on New Year's Eve."

Ethan didn't nod as excitedly at that one. "Yea. But it's just me and Dad watching movies."

Jay shook his head and leaned forward across the table. "You kidding me? I thought I was invited to this thing?"

Ethan eyed him. "I don't think Erin wants to come."

Halstead made a pft sound. "Whatever. She wants me to buy her a couple drinks at Molly's then I think we're going to come hang out here for a movie or two." He lowered his voice. "Let you in on a secret …" Ethan leaned in. "Your dad stocks better beer than that dive."

Voight let out a small sound at that and cast Halstead a look. Jay gave him a thin, smart-ass grin. The guy had some balls. He straightened in the chair.

"We have fajitas too," Ethan said. "And nachos. With everything. Anything you want on them."

"Fajitas and nachos?" Halstead put back to him. "I'm so sold. Erin doesn't want to come over – whatever. She can do what she wants. I'm here."

Ethan smiled shyly at that. "I have to pick out movies to watch," Ethan told him.

"Yea, I think we might be able to convince Erin to come if, you know, New Year's doesn't include like sixteen hours of Star Wars," Jay said.

Ethan sat back in his chair thinking about it. "She said that Dad wouldn't let me watching Walking Dead," he said, casting a look Voights way.

"You aren't watching Walking Dead," Hank confirmed without even looking.

"Umm …" Jay thought about it and shrugged. "Yea, well, it's a few days away. We can powwow on it."

"We could go to laser tag!" Ethan suddenly blurted.

Halstead made another thoughtful sound. "Don't know, Kid. I think it will be a little busy that night. Likely be more fun if we go another day. Next week. 'Kay?"

Hank could tell Ethan was projecting disappointment even from where he was standing and glanced over.

"Hey, I'm still going to take you," Halstead emphasized. "This week is just pretty busy with all your other plans. Don't want to wear you out. And, seriously, if the three of us have the place like to ourselves just against like one other group. It's going to be awesome. Trying to shoot up a crowded arena?" He shrugged. "No challenge to that. Fish in a barrel."

"OK …" Ethan conceded. "But I really want to go."

"Oh, we'll go," Halstead stressed again.

"OK," Ethan allowed again.

"So, to me," Halstead said again, "it sounds like even if today might've been kind of shit – your holidays … pretty epic."

Ethan smiled a little at that. Hank allowed a thin one too. He liked the idea that his boy got a decent break – especially after the few weeks he'd had. Especially when Ethan was already stressing about having to go back to school and to do so on the crutches.

"Hey," Halstead added, "I bet that even today wasn't all shit. I mean, you've got brownies now, right?" He tilted the bag for Ethan to take a second. He happily did.

"Yea," Ethan agreed.

"So besides the hospital, what else did you do?" Halstead asked.

Ethan shrugged and gestured at his project. "I made this."

Halstead examined it. "What is it?"

"I think it's some kind of sound maker," he said and tapped at a component on the board. "That worked as a speaker in some other projects. But I'm not done yet, so I don't know."

"Cool," Halstead nodded. "What else?"

"Mmm …" Ethan puckered but then his eyes got big. "Played Jurassic Park. But I'm stuck and Justin sucks. Maybe you can make the jump?"

Halstead shrugged at him. "Let's check it out."

Ethan retrieved his crutches and pulled himself up, starting to click rapidly for the door. Halstead rising to follow, casting a small look at Voight.

"Halstead," he said and gestured him over.

He hesitated a moment, looking off into the front room, like he didn't want to come. But then he moved over to the counter. Voight set Ethan's day's pill box on top of a glass of water and tapped the second last box in the row of sorted pills.

"See if you or Erin can get him to down those before dinner," he said.

Jay gave a little nod and took them. "Sure," he allowed and picked up the items.

But Voight moved to catch his eyes more directly. "Thank you," he emphasized.

Halstead eyed him a moment. Reading the look. But shrugged. "Yeah, sure. No problem," he allowed and moved to follow Ethan. To join his fiancé. To be in the front room with the rest of the kids. Which likely meant dirty looks from Justin.

But Voight knew that he could hold his own in there without barely batting an eye. So he just turned back to finishing up dinner. And he wondered how for Halstead it was all "no problem" and for his son it so clearly was.


	7. Firsts and Thirds

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 ********WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS M RATED. ***********

Erin lay against Jay's bare chest, her fingers absently tracing a pattern around his nipple only to stream up to outlining his shoulder and sink back to drawing its circles.

She was splitting her hearing between listening to his heart and breathing and listening to the vinyl on the turntable. They'd finally gotten it to her condo and hooked up to her stereo system and it sounded even better in her condo's lofty acoustics than she'd expected. She might be in love.

"You done?" Jay asked and she startled a bit.

He'd been so quiet and still. His heart rate long ago slowed and his breathing shallow. She thought he'd drifted to sleep. But she smiled against him now.

"No," she grinned and lifted her head to find his sparkling eyes. "Just between rounds."

He grinned back at the shared joke and lifted his head off the pillow to find her lips. She allowed it, opening her mouth for him and pressing her naked body against his as the kiss deepened. His hands got restless and found her hips, pulling her more firmly on top of him. His arousal pressing against her as their tongues dueled. Her hands running through his hair – nails scraping at his scalp - while his massaged at her ass.

She briefly broke the kiss and gazed down at his flushed, moist lips. His breathing already changing and catching. She gave him a little smile, as she rose up on her knees slightly, and reached between them, guiding him to her core and slowly sinking onto him.

She watched his face as she did. Pure pleasure. Framed with the desire to raise his hips and thrust quickly and fully into her. But she could see his fight to restrain himself and enjoy the sweet agony as she slowly rode him and grinded against him.

She settled into a rhythm – one that she was learning he seemed to love and could hold himself back on for a good long time while his face painted with that look of beautiful agony as she slowly built to her own climax too. His head fell back onto the pillow. He let out a quiet groan of enjoyment. His chest rising and falling more purposefully. His hands moving to grip at her waist and then restlessly running up and down her thighs, stopping to squeeze at the flesh of her ass cheeks on occasion.

He managed to pull his eyes open and gazed at their juncture. His one hand tracing down and settling lower – his thumb extended so her clit ground into extra friction and pressure with each rock. The sensation made her briefly to the porn star maneuver – letting out a mild moan and arching her back. Even her hands briefly came up and ran over herself, settling in her hair before coming back down to him. But he took the movement and exposure as an invitation and his rough finger pads traced up her abdomen and caressed at her breasts. His eyes taking in every bit of her in a careful examination – a scrutiny that only Jay could pull off in a way she would allow.

She leaned forward more and found her sweet spot in their positioning. She let out another muted moan. And it must've done something for Jay too because there was a small grunt out of him as his hands fell back gripped at her more tightly. His hips seeming to involuntarily press up with that rocking motion and his own head falling back to expose his neck in a way she couldn't resist either.

She settled closer to him. Her lips landing on his neck and sucking. His grunt turned to an all out moan, which just caused her to increase the suction before trailing the tip of her tongue up to just below his ear. She took a moment to put another suck there before placing a kiss – his heart pounding under her lips. Then she drew his ear lobe into her mouth. He moaned again and squirmed under her. His hips dancing against her established rhythm more harshly. It was a sign. She knew what was coming.

His arms wrapped around her and he carefully flipped them – staying inside her in the maneuver as he took control of the lovemaking. He briefly gazed down at her with admiration. Her naked breasts. Soft, smooth stomach. Spread legs and the flushing of her sex where they were joined.

His hand reached between them and his thumb flicked carefully over her clitoris several times. It was her turn to let out a moan. He smiled at her and she returned it.

"Fucker," she teased.

He leaned in and stole a kiss, grinning inches from her face. "Yeah," he agreed smartly. "And you love it." As if to prove it, his hand returned to her swollen, sensitive arousal and gently rubbed at it.

Though, she'd had a sassy comeback starting to form in the back of her mind and push itself to the tip of tongue, she was a little distracted and "mmm …" was about all she could manage to press out. Her own head settled back into the pillow and her eyelids grew heavy with the overwhelming pleasure of the sensations that he continued for several more seconds before removing his hand.

He settled more against her, reaching to hook his elbow around her knee and draw up her one leg while she tucked her other heel tightly around his opposite leg, just above his knee. It seemed to give them perfect angling and positioning. She'd wondered if that was boring. They were still young. They hadn't been together for that long. And they already had a routine? But she'd decided it wasn't. They switched things up a lot. But this always just felt so fucking good and was so perfect at ensuring they both effectively got off – especially since this was round three.

They had no business going for a third round at their age at that time of night. But she kind of suspected it might not be the last one of the night either. Fuck, they'd likely be up most of the night. They already had been. And she had no doubt in her mind that Hank would smell the all-nighter reeking off them from the time they scanned into Intelligence. But just fuck it. They definitely hadn't had nearly enough sex lately. They were making up for lost lays. Celebrating the anticipation of future ones. And just loving being together. That was allowed. More than allowed.

In the dominant position, Jay started by teasing her. He thrust firmly – fully – into her to the point she was nudging across the bed and letting out soft grunts at the depth of him inside her. The fullness she felt with each of his movements. Then he'd pull back out so slowly that was driving her a little crazy. She ended up wrapping her free leg up around his waist, trying to give him some more access and depth in an effort to get him to stop his playful torture.

It seemed to work and he slowly settled into his own rhythm. She found it too – rocking her hips to meet his with each thrust. Satisfied with their fucking, he settled more against her, propping his weight on one elbow and hovering above her in that examination he always did of her face. Like there were some sort of clues about her inner being he was going to discover while staring at her that carefully in her more exposed and vulnerable moments. But she didn't feel quite as exposed or vulnerable under that gaze anymore. It was just Jay. Not that there was really anything "just" about Jay anymore. Still, she focused on the feelings. The pleasure. The sensation. And the man who was providing them.

She caressed at his bicep with her one hand, while she ran nails gently down his back with her other. Readjusting her leg every time it slipped slightly with their efforts and growing muscle fatigue – keeping them angled and opened to give them both the proper depth and access to continue the sensations that kept drawing quiet grunts out of the both of them.

Jay leaned in each closer and found her breathless open mouth – kissing her deeply. She did her best to return it. But she was getting close and instead found herself gasping into his mouth until she turned away and closed her eyes in a quiet moan as she focused on what they were doing and what she was feeling and getting over that edge.

Jay understood and kept up his end of the bargain. Continuing to work at helping her get there. Riding her. Touching her. Caressing her. Kissing and licking and sucking at her in other places. And then he again increased his depth and force just slightly and it was enough. She squirmed involuntarily under him as her body clutched around him. Natural instinct forced her to expose her neck and chest and breasts and let out the guttural sound, as she rode out the waves of pleasure. Jay sucking on her neck and panting his own desires near her ear.

Her body felt like it was over-sensitized as her latest orgasm of the evening washed over her. The nerve-endings were still on fire. Her sex still felt so swollen and wet from the flushing waves their activities. And she'd barely been allowed to calm her heart rate or labored post-orgasm breathing when Jay had grunted almost apologetically into her ear, "I'm there."

She thought she managed to get out, "OK." But she wasn't sure. All she knew was that his body must've been screaming at him because he was pounding with a clear purpose. She managed to let her eyes open enough to see his flushed face as he chased his climax. The red extended down his neck and onto his chest. His thrusts were rough and ragged – much like his breathing at that point as his head drooped more and more in his efforts. She could see his frustration as he labored to get there. Erin reached to stroke at his stubbly cheek and adjusted her legs again – tightening them and then working at clinching herself around him. He groaned at her efforts.

That groan quickly turned to a grunt as he slapped against her hard several times and then began to slow, little shivers and twitches continuing to shake through him – and in her – as he managed to bring his head back up and smile at her, lowering himself closer to her and kissing her hungrily as she grinned into it and sucked in his still irregular breaths. Tasting the sweetness of his exhales.

He finally withdrew – as his softening forced him to. And, he settled next to her, still smiling and moving to swipe stray strands of hair away from her still slightly sweaty and flushed forehead.

"Keeps getting better and better," he told her rather proudly.

She allowed a quiet huff of a laugh and just leaned up to grab his mouth for another brief lock of the lips.

"Good," she told him as they broke away. "That's how it's supposed to work."

"Mmm…" he agreed and returned his mouth to hers again.

And she didn't mean better and better as they went along that night. She wasn't sure how true that was. True in some ways. Not in others. She knew they were likely both going to pay for it in fatigue and muscle soreness the next day. What she meant was being with the same person. Over and over. For the long haul. Getting to know them. Their body. It being about more than sex. More than getting off. And not running away soon after there was a time where it was more than an orgasm.

And for those realities – Jay was her first.

And he was right. It did keep getting better and better. She hoped it kept working that way. For a very long time to come. A lifetime to come?


	8. Turn, Turn, Turn

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Erin wandered over to where Jay was standing flipping through the milk crate of records. She handed him one of the beers, which he took a swig out of, before letting it hang down at his side and continued his flipping one-handed.

"Find anything good?" she asked, leaning against the cabinet watching him. She knew she should be gazing into the crate too. Waiting to spot the next record she wanted to put on. But he was still shirtless. His lounge pants riding low. And that was a much better view than old record labels.

Jay shrugged and took another drink. "Have trouble believing that Voight listened to any of this stuff," he said.

She snorted at that and took her own slow glug. "He's a living, breathing person, Jay. Bleeds like the rest of us. Listens to music like the rest of us too."

He cast her a look at her sass and then turned back to his flipping again. He was stopping frequently and pulling out albums to look at. These weren't the Christmas albums he'd let her play on Christmas Day. They were his actual collection of music. Or at least the ones he'd kept. Favorites. Or sentimental value. She imagined it likely had more to do with sentimental value than favorites than he hadn't accumulated in another format. He'd rather clearly told her that he wasn't giving the crate to her. They were just a loaner until she got some vinyl of her own. But she knew Hank would let her have them for as long as she wanted. He'd likely rather they be used than sitting in the basement collecting dust. Though, keeping in the condo was likely going to mean that Ethan wanted to come over. He'd been just as excited as her when they found the records. And she actual thought Ethan might break down in tears when he realized she was taking the turntable home – not leaving it at Hank's house. Her baby brother was turning into quite the little music nerd. Thing was that he seemed to have little interest in the latest pop singles and teeny-bopper bands. Doing little to cement his non-existent coolness factor at school. Though, Erin thought some of the music he was expressing interest in sad a lot more about him as a person and made him a lot more interesting than most of the crap kids listened to anymore.

"So you think this is his music or the wife's?" Jay asked.

Erin rolled her eyes. "Her name was Camille." Jay shrugged. "It sounds weird when you just call her 'the wife'," she pressed. "It actually sounds weird when you call him Voight when we aren't at work too."

He gave her another glance. "What am I supposed to call him?"

"Hank," she suggested with a tone that clearly indicated he'd asked the most obvious question in the world.

"I don't think so," he muttered.

"Mmm …", she allowed, taking another sip from her bottle. "So you going to call him Voight on our wedding day?"

He gave her a thin smile. "Might go with Sarge that day."

She shook her head and wandered over to the couch, sinking into it and tucking her legs under herself. "Just pick something," she said, glancing over the back at him.

He grunted some acknowledgement but the flipping continued until he flashed a case proudly at her with a wry grin and set the beer down to carefully get the record going. She smiled and shook her head as Tom Petty came on.

"That's Camille. Not Voight," she emphasized as Jay joined her on the couch. He sat down from her but pulled her feet into his lap and rubbed at them absently between his swigs of the beer as they both just sat and listened to the record for a couple songs.

"This is Voight," he said, giving her a coy look as 'Don't Back Down' started playing.

Erin rolled her eyes at him but he just looked at her smugly, leaning to place his bottle on the table and really massaging at her feet. It felt nice and she sunk into the couch a bit more, letting her eyes drift shut as she enjoyed the massage of his warm hands and the music.

"Your feet are cold," he commented, though it didn't seem to be to her directly. Just a comment.

She shrugged. "Blood was in other places."

He let out a restrained guffaw and cast her a look. He grinned a bit but then shrugged. "As long as Eth's poor circulation isn't genetic. Might be a deal breaker," he teased.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You're in luck. We don't share the same genetic make-up," she put back to him.

"Mmm …" he acknowledged, looking back to her feet and the work he was doing on them. "Yea, you guys are a pretty good case study of nature versus nurture. You're likely fooling a lot of people with the whole lack of shared DNA thing."

She gave him a little kick, ramming her feet under his armpit and curling them into his ribs. He grabbed them and wriggled them as he moved them away.

"Don't," he ordered. "You're a fucking ice block."

"Maybe you'll have to warm me up again," she put back to him.

He eyed her. "Still not done?" he asked with a touch of concern.

She let out a little laugh at the look on his face. Near shock that he still hadn't satisfied her after the kind of night they'd had. It'd been fun. And exhausting. She'd felt rather weak in the knees when she finally did get up to do some clean up – wiping the both of them off herself. It was a process – considering Jay had gotten into the shower with her and they'd pretty much ended up just depositing all the so-called traces human fluids all over themselves again. Though, she thought they were more or less squeaky clean when they did get out of there. With all the fucking they'd done that night, though, she thought they both might be walking a bit like John Wayne the next day. Or giving off a way too satisfied ardor, in the very least.

But they were likely done. Though, she'd thought that a few times earlier that night (morning) too. So maybe they weren't. She was pretty happy to take a break at that moment, though. Rehydrate.

"Maybe," she put to him.

He shook his head at her and shoved her feet off his lap, scooting over to her on the couch. He finished her. Deeply. Exploring her mouth and stealing the aftertaste of beer out of it. But when he broke away, he ended up spreading out along the length of the couch, leaning against her, staring out her picture window into the lights of the city. She was fine with that and ran her hand absently through his hair looking out the window too. They were quiet again. Staring. Listening to the music. Just sharing space. She liked they were able to share space. They didn't always need to be moving or talking. They had a lot of conversations that didn't involve much talking at all. They were pretty good at understanding each other's body language and looks. Maybe that was part of the reason they work.

"How you feel about the whole letting a baby cry it out thing?" he asked like he was about a thousand miles away.

She looked down at him and ran her finger through his pushed up cropped bangs. He wasn't looking at her. He was still looking into the lights of the city. But she knew exactly what he was talking about.

Justin apparently hadn't been able to stand being in the same room as Jay when him and Ethan came into the front room to play Eth's videogame. So rather suddenly, Justin had pretty much arbitrary decided it was time to get Henry ready for bed. Do his bath. Get him down. Before dinner.

Olive had put up a small protest. Henry was still in Erin's arms then in her brief visit with her nephew that evening. And Hank hadn't had any chance at all to visit his grandson at all. Olive had said she'd be fine doing the bedtime routine herself after dinner if Justin was itching to get out with his friends. Or that Hank would likely be glad to help. Which was true. Hank was taking every moment he could with Henry.

But Justin had insisted that it was already late and he didn't want to disrupt Henry's routine. It seemed like a stupid argument. Henry being there was an entire disruption of his routine. No matter what they were going to have to retrain him into his "routine" when they got home – which was going to be in two days anyways. But, still, apparently waiting until after dinner was not an option.

Fine. Erin had been a little disappointed when Justin had yanked him away from where she was playing with him on the floor. But it was his kid. She wasn't going to add to the immaturity of the room by arguing with him about it. Instead, when Justin, Olive and the baby had retreated upstairs, she'd gotten up onto the couch with Jay and Ethan.

It'd been nice. She'd leaned against Jay while he played the game and Ethan leaned against her. The three of them sprawled in a clump on the couch. Not really that uncommon. Ethan was a cuddle monkey. If there was couch time, he was going to be leaning against whoever he was sharing it with. It wasn't the first time the three of them had ended up sharing a couch. Seating space was at a premium in her condo. The three of them sitting together for a movie had happened before. But she wouldn't have broached doing it before at Hank's house. She'd decided, though, that sitting with Jay on the couch didn't count as an obtrusive display of physical affection. So, if Hank didn't like it – he'd have to deal with it.

He hadn't said anything. Actually – Hank hadn't said much of anything all night beyond excusing himself from the dinner table when Justin's plan to get have Henry asleep before the meal hadn't worked. The baby had been screaming his lungs out upstairs while they tried to eat. To the point that it wasn't just ear shattering. It was heart-breaking. It wasn't an overtired cry. It was a, "I'm teething and I'm hurting" cry. Even Erin could tell that. But Justin insisted that Henry would cry it out and pass out. To the point that he'd gripped Olive's wrist almost too tightly when she'd moved to go and try to comfort him. The whole table had cringed at the move. And, shortly after that Hank had stood from the table, retrieved a cold teether from the freezer and headed upstairs on his own.

Within minutes of him going up there, the screaming had stopped. But Hank hadn't come back down until after Justin had left and when he did come back down, he still had a sleeping Henry in his arms and had sat with the baby on the couch, just rubbing at his back and making soothing sounds every time he stirred or whimpered (particularly when Ethan got too close to check out what was going on). He'd stayed like that until Erin and Jay had left – letting her manage getting Ethan's evening injection into him and making sure he was in bed for lights out. She somehow suspected that he'd likely stayed on the couch like that until he'd fallen asleep too. It'd probably only been then that Olive would've been able to pry Henry from his arms.

Erin just gave Jay a little shrug, though. "I don't know," she allowed. "I've never had a baby."

His eyes rotated up to her. "You were around to remember Eth being a baby."

She shrugged again. "Yea, but he wasn't my kid. I didn't make decisions like that. I don't think Hank and Camille were really 'cry it out' type people, though."

"Tonight was bullshit," Jay muttered, his eyes settling back on the window.

Erin sighed and looked down at him again. "Well, that wasn't exactly him crying it out. That was him teething. Justin was just … trying to make some kind of point."

"That he's an asshole?" Jay suggested.

Erin let out a slow breath and played a bit with his hair. He looked so much younger when his hair wasn't all styled. Not that he put much after into it. But he'd put no effort beyond running a towel through it when they got out of the shower.

She just really didn't want to talk about Justin, though. She was still angry with him herself. And she knew Jay was projecting that on her behalf at the house that night. She thought there were a couple times Jay might lunge across the room and fuck Justin up. Justin had made a smart-ass comment when Jay had ended up helping Ethan get some salad on his plate. It was directed at Eth but she had seen Jay just bristle. She'd had to put her hand on him more than once to calm him. To not add to the tension in the house that night. And she didn't really want to revisit it now.

"Are we seriously going to spend New Year's at Hank's?" she asked.

Jay's eyes rotated to her. "Did you seriously want to spend New Year's at Molly's?"

She snorted at that prospect. "No. But I don't really want to be sitting with Eth and Hank all night either."

Jay shrugged. "We won't all night. Go for dinner. Sit through a movie. Leave. Do whatever. Come back here."

She rolled her eyes. That wasn't exactly what she had in mind either. Though, she supposed they could find some fun things to do at her place too. If they'd recovered by then.

Jay reached and stroked at her thigh. "Ethan's not going to make it passed like 10 p.m. anyways. We'll have lots of time to go do something else."

"Mmm," she allowed. He had a point. "What's Will doing?"

Jay shrugged. "Getting drunk. Finding a girl to take home."

Erin shook her head. "Such a charmer."

"Halstead men," he said and gave her a smart-ass grin.

"Yea, they're catches," she deadpanned but then rubbed at his bicep. "Who was he doing yesterday? You didn't say anything about it."

He let out a little noise and let his eyes drift back to the window again. He never liked to talk about his family. Getting him to say anything about his mother was even harder. He'd managed to allow himself to tell her they were in the period around his mother's death. As some sort of explanation for his added moodiness. He'd managed to tell her that he was going to go to his mother's gravesite with his brother. But beyond that – he refused to talk about it. And as much as she understood that. As much as she'd seen and dealt with that dynamic in her own family. It was still hard. She didn't know what he needed from her. If anything. Though, she knew that a lot of it was just being there. So she was doing that.

"Will's Will. Always was. Always will be," he said flatly. "Not much has changed."

"How was it?" she tried instead.

"It was a cemetery," he said.

She sighed and stroked at his cheek a bit. "How you are doing?"

He shrugged. "I'm OK."

She wrapped her arm around him in a loose hug in that position. "You know when you need to talk about it, I'm here, right?"

"Yeah," he allowed.

She rubbed at his chest and his hand came up and found hers, gripping at it and then holding it against his heart. They sat in silence again for a really long time.

"Does Justin just say hit to get a rise out of Ethan or is he really just … that stupid," Jay asked after a while.

"A bit of both," Erin admitted.

Jay let out a frustrated sound. "It really bugs the shit out of me listening to him treat him like that. Him egging him on about the Xbox?"

She looked down at him. "Jay, let's not talk about by brother. Either of them. Not tonight."

He gazed at her. "I just know what it's like," he said. "To be the outcast that at the fucking private school."

"I know, Jay," she sighed. "And I do too. I feel bad for him too."

"And to have the older brother who's always getting in shit and always pushing at your buttons."

She shrugged. "Then don't let Will get to you. And definitely don't let Justin get to you."

He made an even more frustrated sound. "Well, it fucking bugged me the way he was treating you too."

"I noticed," she said and leaned to put a kiss on his forehead. "My hero."

He rolled his eyes. "And Voight. And his wife."

She shook her head. "Stay out of it, Jay. Stop thinking about it."

She knew he was likely trying to distract himself from thinking about more relevant things in his life and past. But she thought about the only thing he should be thinking about was what they were going to do with the couple hours they had left before they needed to start getting ready for work. Getting a bit of shut-eye was likely a good option. But the relaxation she could feel in his body after their love-making was now being replaced with his usual tense hostility and she knew he wasn't likely going to sleep.

"Did you have a pet growing up?" she randomly asked, attempting to change the topic.

His eyes found hers. "Yea," he allowed. "A dog."

She rubbed at his chest. "You ever thought about getting one now?"

"Ah, no," he said immediately. "I don't exactly have a pet-friendly lifestyle."

She snorted. "What's that mean?"

"Have you seen my apartment?"

"You love your apartment," she said.

"Yea," Jay agreed. "And I love the intact and hairless state of the stuff in my apartment. Plus, it's kind of small."

She let out a laugh at that and looked down at him. "So you admit your apartment is small but you think when we're ready to live together that I should give up my condo?"

He gestured into the room. "Look at this place," he said

She glanced around and shrugged, throwing up her own arm. "Yea," she said like they were both in an agreement. "I looked at this place and I thought 'This is awesome. Where do I sign?'"

"This place is ridiculous," Jay said plainly.

She slapped him and gaped down at him. "It is not."

He spun and sat up, looking her in the eyes. "This isn't who you are. It's not how you grew up. This is the kid at St. Ignatius still trying to impress the rich bitches."

Erin glared at him. "I love my condo," she said firmly. "I'm not selling it."

Jay shrugged. "Fine. But how are we going to afford a house if you aren't going to sell?"

"Who says I want a house?"

"Well, you're asking about a dog. So assuming you now want a dog and considering that we're kind of going at it like rabbits right now—" She gave him a small smack at that but he just smiled. "I'm going to venture that there might end up being a kid or two at some point down the line. And I'm sure as fuck not raising a family with a dog and 2.5 kids in a condo. So, homeownership will be a fact of life at some point in your future."

"And where exactly is this house that we'll afford on two CPD salaries exist?"

He shrugged at her. "Bridgeport."

She squinted at him. "Bridgeport? Really?"

"Why not?"

"Ah, I'm pretty sure I could give you a pretty long list of why not," she said.

"Where'd you want to settle down then?" he asked.

"Not Bridgeport," she pressed back at him and shook her head.

"So what?" he pushed again. "Roscoe? Wicker Park?"

She gave him a disgusted look. "We don't belong there. And we couldn't afford either."

"So what?" he pushed again.

She sighed. "I don't know," she said a little exasperatedly. "Here. This is a great location."

"It's a one-bedroom condo," he said flatly.

"Yeah. That's all we need right now," she argued.

"With the puppy you're going to collect from behind Platt's desk?" he raised an eyebrow at her. "Because this doesn't look big enough for a dog to me."

Erin gave him a look and settled her shoulder into the cushion of the couch, gazing at him. "The puppy is for Ethan."

He gave her a look. "Voight's letting Ethan keep one of the puppies?" he asked with firm disbelief.

Erin sighed harder and gave him a puppy dog look. "He really wants one, Jay. Maybe if I just—"

He shook his head. "NO," he said.

"I'd just keep it here for a while. Until Eth showed Hank he was responsible enough to have the dog at home."

"And that right there will never happen," Jay said, "and you will be a dog owner for the next eight to fifteen years. Maybe longer."

"But maybe the puppy would give him a bond and just …" she sighed and eyed him. "He's struggling so much right now, Jay. It's only going to get worse when school starts up again. I think having the dog would really help him. A lot."

"And you are out of your fucking mind if you think it's a good idea to get him one without talking to Voight about it first," he stressed to her with dead serious eyes.

"But you'd still love me if I did, right?" she tried to tease back and leaned in to steal a kiss.

He frowned at her. "You're playing with fire, Erin," he warned.

She shrugged. "I have before. I've survived." She planted another kiss on the corner of his mouth. "So you'll help, right? United front? Your brownies had Hank all impressed about you tonight. Softened him right up."

Jay gestured. "Oh, well, there you go. Take brownies and a dog to Hank's house and you'll be all set."

She smiled at him. "You just called him Hank."

Jay flared his nostrils at her. "You're fucking impossible."

"Not fucking impossible," she argued and pushed him back onto the couch, settling next to him and starting to kiss him more seriously. He didn't protest. So maybe they actually weren't done quite yet. Not at all.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: THere's a chapter before this one that FF didn't bump when it posted. It's M. It's Jay and Erin. Chapter 7, "Firsts and Thirds". Also, likely won't be updating tomorrow and possibly not for several days. Only have one extra/completed scene stockpiled right now.**


	9. Photographic Evidence

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

"Hank!" Sergeant Platt called as she saw Voight barreling by.

She'd been watching for him. Hoping that he'd come in the front door rather than around back. But it was fifty-fifty with him. Actually likely more of a likelihood that he'd come in through the back – so he could avoid bumping into anyone he might have to talk to rather than people he was just able to bark at. But with all the snow and ice that just kept coming down, the back entrance was still a little clogged up. They'd be able to roar out of there if they needed to but it wasn't exactly an area you'd want to be wadding through pile of snow and drifts and then hoping the rookies had appropriately salted the skating rink. You were more likely to end up spending your day in the clinic or on disability if you tried to get in that door right now.

But now he was going at full-speed, barely giving her a glance. Pretty standard. Thing was, though. She needed Intel. And she needed to do it on her own. And get it by him.

See, Twitchy – who you just had to adore but who could be a real pain in the ass – had been talking a mile a minute the other morning. On and on and on. Most people she could tell to shut up. Ethan wasn't the kind of kid you told that. Besides, she remembered him back in the hospital as an even littler boy. When it didn't look like he was going to wake up and when he did it looked like he might not talk or walk again. The doctors and his dad managed to get him to do both through a rather slow and laborious process. Even then the kid never was exactly chatty. So when the motor-mouth did get running, it was usually best just to let it spew. Usually it wasn't about anything she was interested in, in her experience. Stuff she really wanted to tell him to shut-up about: baseball, dinosaurs, fish, a ridiculous amount of knowledge about insects, and a whole lot of questions about what kids thought were hip those days. Like she was the person to ask about that. She was sure she'd given him stellar feedback in that area.

But yesterday had started her thinking that maybe she should listen more to the kid and not just making listening sounds when he was around.

In the midst of his blather, Ethan Voight had spouted something about a ring and Erin Lindsay in the same sentence. She'd barely caught it before he was on to something else. When she'd realized what he'd likely just said – or at least implied – she'd tried to get him to backtrack. Asked him. Pressed him. Even given him that 'you tell me, I'm serious' face. But he just gave her death washed over face. Draining white with the realization that he'd likely said something he shouldn't have – which was Ethan's way. Or at Hank liked to say: "No filter". And then he'd really sputtered around to change topics and suddenly became very engrossed in the puppies to the point he was willing to pick up their crap. Literal crap.

But this was something she needed any answer on. Now. This wasn't information she could just let sit. It was too good. Thing was, though. If Hank Voight wasn't ready for it to be public knowledge – it wasn't going to be. He'd likely overlooked how to contain it with having Ethan into the District. Fairly major oversight. So maybe it wasn't Hank who was keeping it on the down-low. It was Lindsay.

Hank, though, was the first person to walk in the door and she was likely to have better luck with him anyways. Erin always sped passed – even faster than Voight. Did her very best to avoid her.

"Trudy, I really don't have time," Voight grumbled at her, glancing at his watch to prove a point. "So fucking behind on the year-end crap."

He was still moving, so Platt called out a bit more firmly, "It's about Ethan."

Voight let out a sigh from where he was about to key in his code to disappear up the stairs, but he turned and came back, crossing his arms on her counter and clearly making his, "I'm annoyed but lay it on me" face. He was such a grizzled guy. She wasn't nearly as afraid of him as everyone else seemed to be.

She jutted a thumb back in behind her counter. "Petting zoo is leaving today. Guy's from the pound apparently have learned to drive in snow and supposed to be here by one."

Voight shrugged and raised his palms slightly off the counter in a clear, "Why do I care?"

She looked him in the eyes in a way to clearly convey he was being fucking purposely dense and that others might go with it – but not her. "Are three leaving or are two?" she put bluntly.

He shrugged. "Wouldn't know."

She sighed at him. "No one's claimed the one Ethan was drooling all over, Hank," she barked.

He shook his head and started to move away. "No," he said flatly.

She gave him a glare. His kid. His house. His family. His job. He knew what he thought he could and couldn't handle or did and didn't want in his home. But if he'd spent ten minutes behind the desk with Ethan and that box of dogs yesterday, his opinion might be changed. It was the most relaxed and chatty she'd seen Ethan in a good long while. Likely part of the reason she had this potential ring Intel. But the bigger commentary was that the kid clearly wanted – and likely needed – a fuzzy companion. Therapy dogs and horse therapy and all that touchy-feely stuff existed for a reason. If there was anyone that needed that sort of thing, it was Ethan Voight.

"Hank," she called and he gave her a glance. She shoved a paper across the counter. "He worked at trying to fill out the Police Explorers form while he was down here yesterday. Needs your signature, medical disclosure and registration money, if you're going to let him do that."

He made a grunting sound but came back and grabbed it, folding it to shove in his pocket.

"I'll take a look," he muttered.

How much did she want to wager that'd never see the light of day again? Too bad. Might be good for the kid too. But none of Hank's other kids had ever participated. She doubted that would suddenly change with Ethan. Though it'd be other kids and activities and role models. Ethan was kicking around the District enough that he'd already been exposed to all sorts – if that's what Hank was worried about. Hell, the kid had grown-up with him as a dad – he'd already been exposed to all sorts.

"One more thing, Hank," she called at him again and he turned, that time giving her really annoyed eyes. She tried to give him an apologetic smile. "Can I get a copy of that photo with the kids and the stockings?" she asked.

He gazed at her. There was some reluctance there. And questioning. And admittedly it was weird she'd want a photo of his family. So she waved him over and leaned against the counter like this was very serious, top secret information that needed to be hush hush.

"Randy and his big mouth might've said something about me doing some of the … crafty stuff," she started in her half-lie. Or maybe it was more of just a little white lie. Wasn't going to hurt anyone. "And Gabby Dawson sort of caught wind of it. I guess she might be kind of interested in a bit of a newborn set."

"Hmm," Hank grunted in acknowledgement.

"Normally, I probably wouldn't get involved," she said but gestured up the stairs. "But, you know, Antonio's sister …"

Voight made a sort of understanding sound again but his face clearly said he didn't see how this applied to him or the photo.

"I just don't really have too much … photographic evidence of this little … hobby. And I was sort of thinking since the stockings are the most recent, maybe I could just show her that. To give her a bit of an idea of … what I can manage," she tried.

"Hmm …" Hank grunted again and just stood there. Platt let it hang for a moment because he was clearly thinking and processing. But then his hand went into his pocket and he pulled out his phone.

Trudy smiled a bit and leaned to watch him swipe around the photos. He had the photo of just Henry pulled up, readying to forward it.

"Oh," she stuttered and pointed. "I'd really like the one with all the kids."

"Can see the stocking better in this one," he mumbled, not looking up and clearly sending it along to her.

"Yea," she tried again. "But the other one she can see I can match other patterns, in case she has something in mind already."

Voight examined her. She was sure he was doing a read on her. Sensed some sort of ulterior motive.

"I don't like photos of my kids floating around, Trudy," he said sternly.

She found his eyes. "It's Gabby. She'll understand. I'm sure it's the same with Antonio's kids."

He still wasn't going to budge.

"I won't forward it," Platt pressed. "They'll just stay with me. I'll just show her the next time I'm over at the firehouse meeting Randy. Can delete it right after, if you want."

Voight let out a small sigh but then nodded and started to move but he was clearly still punching in to forward the other photo.

"Stays with you," he said with a point, as he mounted the steps to head through the security door.

"Done deal," she agreed and watched as he disappeared behind the door. As soon as he had, she grabbed for her phone, opening up the arrived photos. She glanced briefly at the photo of Henry. He was a cute baby – but he definitely was not what she was looking for. She flipped the second photo of Voight's three kids and zoomed in on the high-resolution picture, going right for Erin Lindsay's hand. And, "Oh, Mylanta," she muttered.

"Something wrong, Sarge," she heard in front of her.

She looked up to see Burgess's big doe eyes gazing at her. She turned the phone screen to her.

"Oh, wow," Burgess said, looking at it questioningly.

"Burgess, we just got competition for the Wedding of 2016," Platt provided.

Burgess looked up at her with even more confused eyes. "Oh. What? Who?"

Platt squeezed at the picture until it shrunk, making Erin Lindsay's smiling face and Voight's family that much more visible. Burgess's brow just creased more as she looked at it in outright confusion.

"What?" she stuttered. "To who?!"

Platt's eyes traced up again and Jay Halstead came in with a clear bounce in his step and a coffee the size of his head – and a branded holiday coffee cup, none of this coffee cart gruel that he usually sucked back. That meant that he'd been with someone. Platt had some serious guesses on who'd leisurely be strolling in a few minutes after his arrival and she had even more serious guesses about just what had been going on to give him that stride at this time of day and before coffee.

She gave a little nod at him for Burgess's sake and she looked over her shoulder and then gaped and went back to examining the photo in what amounted to slack-jaw horror.

"Morning, Halstead," Platt called.

He gave her a bit of a look – some surprise she'd actually spoken to him. Usually she ignored him.

"Morning, Sarge," he put back to her again with way to cheerily of a voice and almost a rhythm in how he punched in.

She raised her eyebrows at Burgess who just shook her head. "Sergeant Voight doesn't let couples in his unit," she muttered.

"Oh," said Platt, pulling the phone back to her. "I think certain people get some exceptions. You just aren't on the special list Burgess."

Burgess glared at her but then shook her head hard. "I saw Erin yesterday. She didn't say anything about it. She didn't have a ring on!"

Platt shrugged. "Not everyone needs to go bragging about these things, Burgess," she said. "Or maybe her and the Boy Wonder aren't as flashy as some people." She raised another eyebrow at Burgess who looked deflated.

And, right on cue, Erin Lindsay arrived in the foyer and bee-lined for the desk, putting both her hands right on top. Burgess stared at the naked ring finger. Platt gave it a glance but then found Lindsay's eyes, giving her a fake smile.

"Can I help you with something detective?"

"Are the puppies still here?" she asked, straining her neck to try to see in behind where the dogs were hidden.

"For now," Platt said.

Lindsay nodded quickly as she considered that. "Until when?"

"They're supposed to be gone by one."

"One," she muttered and shook her head. She made a small sound but then strained her neck again. "Is the one Ethan liked still here?" she asked, pointing at her chest. "He's brown and has a little white bib. Socks on a couple of his paws."

"Oh, well, why don't we take a look," Platt said, eyeing Burgess some more. She moved to open the gate to let Lindsay in who made right for the box. "You know, Hank was just down here and—"

"Yea, don't worry about that," Lindsay said dismissively and bent to look in the box.

Platt leaned into Burgess and whispered. "Double or nothing. Now it's forty bucks that says I still get hitched before the both of you."

She raised her eyebrow as Burgess pouted and wandered over to where Lindsay had found the puppy that Ethan had been so enamored with the day before. Though, Platt might place some bets on her chances of marrying before Lindsay increasing if she was about to run counter Hank on a dog. But, she thought for Ethan's sake, she'd be up to running point on that little effort to pull the wool of his eyes and get a dog in the house.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Pretty sure the mast majority of readers missed Chapter 7 and Chapter 8. Please go back and check them out. FF doesn't seem to bump my stories up to the top for some reason when I update. Reviews, comments and feedback by comment section or PM are always much appreciated. Thanks.**


	10. Theatrics

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Justin sighed as they got into the theater. Fucking figured. The place was beyond packed. That was part of the reason he didn't even want to fucking go to Star Wars. He knew this would happen unless they got their ridiculously early – but they hadn't. And, Pop had outright told him that he was taking E to Star Wars. Fucking nonnegotiable. Because apparently his opinion on the matter didn't count for shit. Such fucking bullshit. There were lots of other movies out that he could take E to. They didn't have to see fucking Star Wars. But whatever.

He strided over to the disability row and glared at the fourteen-year-olds sitting in the seats. "You gotta move," he said with a gesture at E who was trailing behind him. "My brother needs to sit here."

E just squinted at him, though. "I don't want to sit there," he said bluntly. "It's too close."

Justin gestured up into the theater. "Where are we going to fucking sit, Ethan?" he demanded.

E shrugged and started up the stairs. The fucking snail's pace he took up stairs these days. In the dim-lit cinema, which apparently with whatever was going on with his eyes with these things, meant he couldn't see shit. Which, you'd think would make sitting in the front row make sense – but apparently not.

Justin took up the rear behind him. Let him go all the way and down if he needed to. Let him see there weren't anything but singles left in the fucking place. He had to go step by step. Stand and wait while E struggled to the next one.

It was fucking awful to watch him like this. He'd gone through previous moments in his life – back when he was still at home and when E was still in the hospital – where he didn't know his brother. He remembered when E woke up and he didn't know who any of them were at the start. He clued into Pop first. Then Erin. Then he started asking for and crying for Mom. It was Justin who he was able to remember and recognize last. And even after he did start sort of functioning again – it was never the kid from before. Never. It was always some other person who woke up in that hospital. It wasn't Ethan.

Justin wasn't sure he'd ever completely come to grips with that. Just like he was still coming to grips with Mom being gone. Just like he still thought about why it was that E survived and Mom didn't. And the fact they were coming to pick him up that night because Pop had taken his keys away again and restricted his use of the family car. And how he was the last one to be told anything fucking happened too. Instead he was just left wondering where the fuck Mom was and why it was taking so long. Cursing fucking E for likely holding up the show. Meanwhile, Pop and Erin are at the hospital and no one sends anyone to come look for him for fucking ever. Not that they would've known. Mom knew where he was at. Pop didn't. But still.

He'd had time to adjust to the 'new' baby brother that got sent home with them, though. Sort of. He'd at least gotten used to him. But now it was like a whole other version of him was being thrown at him. This kid who couldn't read anymore and constantly wanted shit read to him. This kid who couldn't see shit happening in certain areas of his vision – so you had to move yourself or position yourself accordingly if you wanted to actually make sure he was seeing what you wanted him to be seeing. And now the crutches and all the cathether shit on the weekend.

And Pop and Erin were just treating it like it was so normal. And manageable. And it was him who had the fucking problem for not seeing how perfectly normal and manageable any of this was. None of this was normal and he didn't see how they fucking expected to make this manageable. His brother was basically a retarded cripple now and he was still "early" in the course of this disease. They still didn't know the full extent of his brain damage since he hadn't fucking hit puberty yet and wasn't an adult yet. But it was pretty fucking clear to Justin that he wasn't going to have a normal education, job or life. E was going to need support and care for the rest of his life.

How is that normal or manageable?

"What you gonna do if you've gotta take a piss during the show?" Justin muttered at Ethan.

The kid just glanced at him. "Go to the bathroom," he said flatly.

"You gonna to be able to get down all these stairs in the dark?" Justin put to him. "You know how much of the movie you're gonna miss if you've gotta take a leak?"

Ethan shrugged and started hobbling down a row, jamming his crutches into people's toes. He had absolutely not control over those things yet. They might as well be stitles. Or at least weapons or some kind. Possibly attached to another person's body other than his own. No spacial awareness. But Erin said that was because he didn't have any perpherial vision. Fucking tunnel vision. Great.

But Ethan seemed undeterred. He just kept apologizing to each person who's toes he crushed. These people were going to love it even more if E did have to use the can during the show. Then he could go all the way down the row again in the dark. Really trip all over them and obstruct their view.

When they finally got to the seats he was headed for – surprise: one of them had some lady's purse sitting in it. E glared at the woman sitting next to it.

"You aren't really supposed to save seats," he said to her in this super accusing tone.

Justin gave her a slightly apologetic look – mostly out of embarrassment at the overall show they were putting on. "Is anyone going to be sitting there?" he asked. She just nodded. Justin sighed and glanced around the rest of the theater trying to spot if there were any other seats still together. None that he could see. He looked at the people in the room. "'Kay, folks," he ordered loudly, "if you ain't willing to stand up and move over one to that empty seat at the end, then we're going to have to be getting passed you all over again."

He could hear some grumbles but apparently no one really wanted that and one by one, people got up and moved over to let him sit with his brother. E wasn't waiting at all. He'd immediately claimed the free seat that didn't have a purse in it. He suspected that E would've just told him to hand the thing back to the woman and take a seat if she wouldn't move it herself. Though, the single seats might've been a decent excuse not to sit with him. But he'd report that back to Pop too and it'd also be frowned on.

Justin sat as a seat freed up and worked on trying to hand E his soda. His hands were fucking shaking that day and he was fully expecting him to squeeze it too tight and spill it all over himself or the head of the person in front of him. But he managed to get ahold of it and took about the loudest slurp ever. Justin eyed him, as he got his own pop and the popcorn outta the flimsy cardboard tray he'd been given.

"'Kay, E, remember you don't tell Pop about the concessions," he said as he settled the popcorn on his knee closest to Ethan. There was no way he was letting him hold it. It would definitely get spilled with the way he was going at thing.

"I won't!" Ethan huffed at him in clear annoyance, giving him this super dirty look.

"OK," Justin acknowledged. "Just try to remember. 'Cuz sometimes you have kinda a big mouth."

"I WON'T TELL HIM!" E pushed at him again and huffed even louder and took an even more extended slurp out of the soda cup.

Pop was on some sort of ridiculous rampage about Ethan's diet. It was fucking stupid. They'd always eaten healthy growing up. There was never much crap in the house. Suddenly pulling full food groups out of E's diet just seemed fucking retarded. And then basically telling the kid he wasn't allowed treats on his fucking Christmas holidays? Pop always too everything to such fucking extremes. Had to be such a fucking hardass. So let the kid have a pop and some popcorn. Maybe it'd get him into E's good graces. Though, if E slipped up and told Pop – which was probably – he'd get another fucking dirty look from Dad. And it sure fucking seemed like he was getting a lot of them the past couple days. Basically every time he looked at E was accompanied by a glare or warning look from Pop. Clearly he couldn't do anything right that trip home. Pop was even sticking his nose into how they were managing H's teething and sleeping routines. That was Pops' way. He thought he spoke the fucking gospel on every fucking topic imaginable. Sometimes being out of state and away from that didn't seem so bad.

E sat stuffing his face with the popcorn and glugging away on the soda. J was starting to think he might choke himself. Clearly the kid hadn't been allowed anything decent for weeks – if not more like months.

"So what you think of this whole Erin engaged thing?" Justin asked after letting E chow down a bit.

E gave him a glance and shrugged. "Erin never asked me what I thought 'bout you getting married," he put flatly.

J squinted at him. "What's that mean?"

E shrugged again. "I don't know. Maybe that you shouldn't ask me what I think about her getting married."

J looked at him. "What'd you think of me getting married?" he pressed.

E gave him another look and shrugged yet again. "That you messed up and got Olive pregnant so you had to get married."

"I didn't mess up," Justin spat at him.

E gave him a look. "Yea, you did," he said completely confidently. "Olive got pregnant so that means that you didn't use a condom. And that's dumb."

"Oh," Justin rolled his eyes. "And that's dumb. I'm getting life advice, marriage advice and sex advice from a twelve year old."

"It is dumb," E pressed. "Dad says so."

"Yea, well, if Pop says so …" Justin muttered.

E just looked at him like he was completely cluing into the sarcasms there. "Dad says that if you're going to have sex with more than one person—"

"Who doesn't have sex with more than one person?" Justin put to him.

E shrugged. "I don't know. Probably lots of people if they meet someone they really like and get married and stuff."

Justin rolled his eyes. "And if you're with someone who's had sex with more than one person. Because it's about protecting yourself from diseases and stuff too. Not just not having a baby. So basically you should always use a condom unless you've been with the girl a long time and you think you want to have a baby together. And you hadn't been with Olive a long time because you basically just got out of jail."

Justin glared at him but Ethan just shrugged. "It's OK. It's Olive's mess up too. Because she could've asked you to use one. Girls can buy condoms too. Erin has them."

Justin snorted at that. "You don't say?"

Ethan shrugged. "Yea," he said, again missing Justin's disgust with his commentary. "She forgot them out on her nightstand once and I saw. And she says it's totally normal for girls to buy them. Because then they have them if the guy doesn't."

Justin shook his head. "Sounds like you have lots of deep talks with Pop and Erin."

Another shrug. "Yeah," he said and looked Justin right in the eyes. "They don't treat me like I'm retarded."

Justin glared at him. "I don't treat you like you're retarded."

"Yeah, you do," E said flatly like it was a complete fact of life. "But don't worry. Even though Dad says you and Olive messed up, Henry isn't a mistake. He's just unplanned. And he says I was unplanned too. Lots of people are when they're born."

Justin studied at him and put some more popcorn in his mouth. "You shouldn't take shit Pops says so seriously."

"Why not?" Ethan said. "He knows lots of stuff about lots of stuff and he knows how to explain it in ways that make sense."

"That doesn't mean he's always right," Justin pressed back to him.

E examined him and sat back in his chair examining the ads on the screen in the extended pre-show. "He's sorta right a lot. Or at least in stuff he takes care of for me. And Dad says –"

"I don't want to know what Dad says," Justin muttered.

He was having a bit of an overdose of Pop that trip. Maybe because they were butting heads. Maybe because it wasn't entirely the first Christmas he'd imagined for Henry. Like Christmas Day had been nice enough – after they finally got into Pop's. But the rest of the visit? It just felt like always. Pop doesn't think examination of him in a way that pretty much highlighted every way he'd ever disappointed him. Sometimes it felt like he never could do anything right. Tough competition with the Golden Girl at home and he didn't even know how to compete with Eth. He demanded a whole fucking lot of attention.

Maybe that was kind of rubbing him the wrong way too. He wanted Pop to glow of H. To spend time with him. To see the family and home he was making. To be happy about the fact he'd gotten him a grandson. That he was doing a decent job providing for his family. That he was doing the army thing like Dad wanted. Thinking about the future. Staying on track.

But it was like they weren't getting to talk about any of that. It almost seemed like Pop wasn't even seeing it. Yeah, he was giving some time to Henry but not a ton. It wasn't like he was trying to get home from work on time. At all. Same old. He got home when he got home and that sure as hell wasn't by six. And it seemed like about 90% of his evening and energy was focused on E when he was in the house.

Justin got it. He knew E had been sick leading up to Christmas. He got the impression that whatever had ultimately lead to his hospitalization had shaken Pop and Erin up a bit. He got that it must've been bad for them to keep E in the hospital that long. And he could see that Eth was thinner than the last time he'd seen him. Paler. And the biggest getaway was the crutches. And the way he was shaking some days. But, generally, it wasn't like he needed constant care and hovering. But Pop and Erin sure as fuck seemed to be doing that. Fucking helicopters.

And, E apparently didn't give a fuck that he didn't want to hear anymore about Pop and his supposed words of wisdom in that moment.

"Dad says that real men work to turn their troubles around and make them the best possible situation they can. That you've gotta admit and recognize your mistakes so you can face them head on and get them fixed," E recited.

"Yea," Justin stared at him, "and you think Pop follows that advice?"

Ethan eyed him. "I know Dad has had some bad things happen to him and he's still a good dad and takes good care of us. Or at least me."

"Yea, at least you," Justin muttered.

Ethan's eyes seemed to drill into him. "Dad tried to take good care of you too, J. But he says you're an adult now and you need to be your own man because now you've got your own family to take care of and fix mistakes and problems for."

"Ah," Justin said sarcastically and shook his head.

"I'm not a grown-up yet," Ethan put to him. "But I deal with bad things and problems too, Justin. And I need to make them the best I can make them too."

"Is that what Dad says?" Justin said flatly, popping some more popcorn in his mouth.

"Yes," Ethan pushed at him. "And Erin. They say you shouldn't let yourself be the victim even if shitty things happen. But Erin says you like being the victim."

Justin's eyes snapped at him. He was ready to give him a piece of his mind but the fucking kid looked so small and the movie was going to start soon. So he just shook his head and stared at the screen.

"Just eat your popcorn, E," he muttered.

He could feel Ethan watching him. He didn't take anymore popcorn, though, Justin ate through his own handful and reached for another, giving E another glance.

"You aren't going to tell me what you think about Erin getting married?" he asked, giving his brother a once over.

"Most people get married eventually," Ethan said.

"Yea, but this is Erin getting married," Justin provided.

"So?" E hissed at him.

"To Jay Halstead?" Justin said a little mockingly.

E squinted at him questioningly. "So?" he asked a little more confused.

Justin shrugged. "Don't know. You like him?"

His brother pouted at him a bit. "Yea," he admitted. "He's nice to me. And he's nice to Erin. And she likes him lots. Like Dad liked Mom."

Justin snorted. "Don't think it's the same thing."

"Why not?" Ethan asked.

"Because she's 30. 'Cuz they work together."

"So?" Ethan pressed.

"It's not the same," J put to him. "Pop and Mom were like high school sweethearts. First loves. Soul mates. All the melodramatic crap you hear about. Erin and Halstead are … fuck buddies."

"What does that mean?" E squinted at him.

"It means the marriage ain't going to last," Justin put to him flatly. "So don't get too attached."

"You mean they're gonna get divorced?"

"If they even actually get married," Justin said and shook his head.

He thought the whole thing was kind of stupid. It was another thing on the list of things that he didn't get why Pop was basically having a non-reaction about. The whole thing just seemed like complete bullshit.

"Erin wasn't mean about you getting married to Olive," E said quietly and looked away from him.

"I'm not being mean," Justin said. "I'm being realistic."

E gave him a sideways glance. "You don't like Jay so you're being mean," he said.

"The guy gives me attitude," J mumbled and ate some more popcorn.

"Maybe because you're mean to him too," E said flatly and Justin gave him another glance. "You're mean to me. Because you're an angry person. Not like Dad gets angry. You're just angry. And it makes you be mean to everyone. Jay's nice to me."

"Halstead has to be nice to you because he's trying to get in Erin's pants on a regular basis, E," Justin put to him.

Ethan shook his head. "No," he pressed. "Erin and Jay like hanging out with me. They tell me all the time."

"Erin is your babysitter because Pop is too fucking cheap to put you in some after-school program. And Halstead is a guy who knows that if he wants to get laid – he's gotta be nice to you."

Eth blinked at him. "See," he said. "That's mean."

"Ethan," Justin said more seriously and turned in his chair to look at him. "Do you seriously think that Erin wants to give up having her own life to do homework with you and make dinner for you and spend nights and weekends with you?"

His eyes glassed and Justin let out a little sigh. "Don't cry," he mumbled. "You can act like such a baby sometimes. H cries less than you."

"Sometimes you gotta to do things you don't wanna do but family is about looking out for each other and looking after each other," E said.

"Pop tell you that too?" J shook his head.

"ERIN!" Ethan spat at him. "And, Erin and Jay do lots of other stuff with me that isn't homework or chores. They watch TV and movies with me and take me places and talk to me!"

"Yea, well, I can't take you places, can I?" J mumbled. "And even if I was here, I couldn't afford to be doing fancy shit with you ever weekend. You know how much this movie and food cost?"

Ethan glared at him. "They don't take me to fancy shit! We got to the park or the beach. Or the music store. Or their apartments and watch a movie! We only do stuff that costs money sometimes!"

Justin gestured around them. "Stop yelling," he said.

But his glare just got firmer. "You never came and visited me after you got outta jail."

Justin sighed at him and gave him a look. "It was fucking far, Ethan," he pressed.

"Erin came," he said.

He shrugged at him. "Good for her."

"And then you did more stupid things and got sent away again after you FINALLY were even home!" Eth pressed.

"I did what Pop wanted me to do," he said. "What he told me to do. Maybe I listened to his quality advice just like you."

"If you listened, you wouldn't have had to go in the first place!" Ethan said. "Not to jail and not to the stupid army."

The theater darkened and Justin stared at his brother's gleaming eyes for a moment longer before he turned and gestured at the screen. "Watch your movie," he said.

Ethan crossed his arms over his chest. "Erin and Jay aren't mean to me," he said. "Neither is Dad. And they don't treat me like I'm stupid little kid either."

Justin gave him a little snort. "Says the kid who had a stocking from Santa full of dinosaur stuff."

Ethan glared at him, as shushs started around them. Then he fumbled with his crutches and fumbled more to drag himself to his feet.

"Hey …" Justin said, trying to grab at his shirt but he yanked away, whacking the person next to him with his crutch and causing an even larger glare to be cast their way. "Where do you think you're going?"

"You don't wanna spend time with me and I don't wanna spend time with you," Ethan said and worked at navigating his way out of the row and a slow effort to go down the steps.

Justin just sat there for several minutes. Watching his brother get to the bottom. Expecting him to stop and turn back. To find some other seat to sit in. But as he got to the bottom of the stairs, he started to move across the front of the theater and for the exit.

Justin let out a little sigh and rose, following after his brother. Ethan was so fucking moody. What a waste of like forty bucks.


	11. Always Something

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Erin stood gazing into the fridge in the break room. She didn't bring anything and she'd been so tied to her desk with the paperwork Hank was piling onto them that she felt like if she retreated for a lunch break she'd be sneered at. Especially since she'd been doing some sneaking around and disappearing from her desk already that day. So instead it was about two in the afternoon and she hadn't had anything beyond coffee and a stale baked good in the morning. She was contemplating raiding the vending machine.

Burgess came in and she gave her a glance. "Hey," she greeted with a thin smile. "Getting some lunch with Adam?" she asked, glancing at the paper bag Burgess had with her.

Chances were it was better than any of the Tupperware leftovers in the fridge. Most of them looked rather dated. She actually likely shouldn't be caught gazing in there too long or Hank might decide her next task was to clean out their fridge. Paperwork sounded better than that. So, another cup of coffee it was. At least it'd keep her awake and with how little sleep she was running on – that was likely a good idea too given the boredom-inducing task she'd been tasked with that day.

She hated the year-end paperwork. She supposed if they kept up with it better during the year, the last week or so of the year wouldn't be this torturous. But no one liked the paper-pushing aspect of the job. So they all just did the minimum amount of reports needed to make it through the daily and weekly filings that came along with the job and shutting cases and handing things off to the feds or the D.A.'s office.

"Yeah," Kim said as Erin moved across the counter space to the coffee station. "Thought since we're both here, I'd come up."

Erin gave a little nod. Made sense. And maybe Adam being in the break room for a while would shut him up for a bit. He was whining the loudest of anyone about the paperwork. But that was pretty much the norm. Adam was loud. And young. And tended to complain. Vocally. Though, he was getting better about his ego and entitlement issues. Likely because he felt like he wasn't low one on the totem pole anymore. That went to Atwater and Mouse.

"Hey …" Kim called, as she started working on making her cup of coffee. "I didn't get to ask you how your Christmas was?"

Erin gave her another glance and a little nod. "Nice," she allowed but saw the way the other cop was examining her and squinted back at her a bit. "You?" she asked a bit more cautiously.

"Oh, yeah, good," Kim provided almost too quickly like she'd been caught in some sort of lie.

Erin eyed her. Didn't really see the point of lying about Christmas. You either had a nice one or you didn't. Or you didn't celebrate it at all. But most people would be used to hearing that someone's Christmas was crap or that their family was psychotic. It was a cop shop. That was pretty much par for the course. Though, Burgess didn't really strike her as the kind of person who would be ready to admit those kinds of thing.

"Good," Erin allowed, though. Because if it had been a shitty one and Kim didn't want to elaborate, she understood that too. Besides, she wasn't really sure she felt like chit-chat.

"Yeah," Kim nodded, and pulled a sandwich out of the bag – looking at it like she was thinking about starting without Ruzek. "Did you get anything? Like … anything nice?"

Erin cast her another look from where she was adding gross amounts of sugar to her disgustingly stale cop coffee. That seemed like a leading question. Strange. Didn't usually get adults asking what you got. Some people offered up what they got – bragged about that new big screen TV or whatever. But to ask what you got? They weren't in high school.

She shrugged, though. "We don't go that crazy with Christmas. Mostly just do stockings," she admitted.

She felt weird to say anything else she'd specifically received – particularly the turntable. It was from Hank. He was their boss. And even though everyone knew they were family, it was strange to talk about more personal stuff in the work environment. But she thought about it for a moment and then grabbed at the necklace around her neck, going over to at least show off that.

"I got this from Ethan," she provided. "It's like a $20 necklace. But that's some allowance for him. It's really sweet."

"Oh, it's nice," Kim allowed with a little nod, like it wasn't at all what she'd expected to be shown when she came over.

Erin squinted at her again. Did she know? She couldn't know. Her and Jay had decided she wasn't going to wear the ring into work yet. She wanted it resized so there wasn't an accidental loss of it anyways. But, more specifically, they'd decided they weren't ready to tell everyone at work yet. Not until they worked out some more of the details themselves. At least a general timeframe on when they were going to actually get married – which wouldn't be until the summer at the earliest and she suspected more like into 2017. They both wanted some time to sort out the whole work situation a bit about who was going where and doing what and if and how Hank would support them in that. So they were just keeping it hush-hush for now. Or at least that was her and Jay's plan.

She couldn't see Hank telling anyone. He knew there were complications to publicizing it. And he had enough complications with being the boss of his former ward. That took enough turned eyes. Policy would definitely frown on an engaged couple working in the same unit – let alone usually being paired as partners. It wasn't just Hank who didn't like the idea. The CPD didn't like the idea. So it was best just not to talk about it until things were a little more set in stone. Alvin would get that too. He wasn't the kind of guy who'd be chatty about their personal lives. He kept his own so quiet to be talking about anyone else's. Erin supposed that Michelle might've told Antonio. But Antonio wasn't even in work that week. She thought his plan was to spend most of the week out with his kids – so he wasn't likely even at the boxing gym for Michelle to tell. And even if Michelle did, though Erin could see Antonio maybe giving her or Jay a wink-wink-nudge-nudge about it – he wouldn't be telling the whole station. The only ones to really run their mouths like that would be Adam and Atwater. She supposed Kim too but she would've likely heard it from someone in Intelligence first and Erin just couldn't see how it would've gotten back to anyone in Intelligence yet … already?

Though, Ethan had been in the District the day before. But he hadn't been upstairs at all. She was pretty sure he hadn't left the side of those puppies the entire time. And, if he had run his mouth, she thought she would've been hearing it back from a lot more people by now. Because it'd be in patrol's mouth and then you were on the rumor mill. The only person she was getting hints from that maybe it was public information was Kim. So maybe she was just imagining things. Maybe Kim really did just want to brag about some sort of present and was looking for an opening?

"What about you?" Erin tried.

Kim just gave her a little shrug. "Not much. Bought myself the new iPhone."

Erin gave a little nod at that and kept eyeing her, measuring the comment, trying to decide what was really going on underneath this. Because there definitely seemed to be an underneath this.

"So nothing really exciting happened over your weekend?" Kim pressed.

Erin gave her head a slow shake. "We took Hank to a Hawks game as an early birthday present. Other than that …" she gave a little shrug.

Kim gave her another small nod, still looking at her with those doe eyes. Something was definitely up.

But her phone buzzed in her pocket, pulling her away from the observation of the other woman. Erin pulled it out and eyed the caller I.D. questioningly, putting it up to her ear.

"Ethan?" she said into the phone.

"You need to come get me," her baby brother said with a near cracking voice.

She rubbed at her eyebrow and pulled the phone away to glance at the time. "Aren't you at the movie?" she asked.

"No," Ethan pressed. "I'm not watching the movie."

"What? Where are you?" she demanded, concerned.

"At the theater but I'm not seeing the movie," he said. He sounded broken.

Erin sighed. "What happened?"

"I want to COME HOME," Ethan whined at her.

She let out another sigh. Maybe she would be getting a lunch break after all. To go clean up this mess. Because apparently Justin couldn't even handle taking Ethan to a fucking movie. How are is it to take a twelve-year-old to a movie? To sit next to his brother for a couple hours?

"Where's Justin?" she asked.

"I'M NOT GOING HOME WITH HIM," Ethan nearly yelled at her.

"Calm down," she said a bit more sternly. "Why not?"

"He's being an asshole!" Ethan barked in her ear.

She let out a breath and shook her head. Yeah. Asshole. That pretty much summed up how Justin had been acting the past forty-eight hours. He'd gotten through Christmas Day, their skate and almost through the Blackhawks game without being a brat. But really, it'd just been Christmas Day. Some of his tendencies started to show by Saturday and by the hockey game on Sunday night, he was grating on her nerves. But Monday afternoon he'd all out pissed her off. And, now apparently he'd pulled his usual move to send Ethan running from him.

Who knew what he'd said or done – but he always found a way to say or do something that made Ethan feel like the smallest, littlest, most worthless and useless creature on the planet. Jay was right. Getting through a visit with Justin without Ethan ending up in tears would be a feat of its own.

Erin had been hopeful that this time they could do it. That it was Christmas. That he had Olive and the baby with him. That it would be months before they all saw each other again. That he'd understand that Ethan was just out of the hospital and still a sick and tired little boy. But apparently not so much. Apparently asking all of that of Justin was too much to ask. As usual.

It was always fucking something with him. Always something to rock the boat. Something to try to get attention – Hank's attention – in the most destructive and ridiculous ways. Still. Now with him a twenty-three-year-old man. A married man. A father. Still. So fucking ridiculous. And picking on his twelve-year-old brother? He just didn't make sense sometimes. At all.

"What theater are you at?" she mumbled.

But her eyes pulled in the direction of the door as Jay poked his head in. He looked at her questioningly and whispered, "Voight wants us to go shake down that guy at the pawn shop. Can you roll?"

She held up a finger to get a moment but gave Jay a little nod. "OK, Eth, I'll be there in a bit to pick you up. Just hang tight, OK? Stay inside where it's warm. I'll find you."

She sighed as she hung up the phone and looked to Jay, though her eyes landed on Burgess' briefly again, who was examining Jay with the same scrunity that she'd been given. Erin squinted at her again. She didn't have time for this right now. Until something got back to her that said their engagement was public and it was turning into a wildfire, she was just going to ignore it. Not worth dealing with something before it's a problem. Hopefully it wouldn't become one. Besides, she had other problems to deal with at the moment. Her fucking brothers.

She headed for the door, casting Jay a look. "We need to make a detour on the way," she muttered.

"Ethan?" he asked.

She shrugged. She didn't want to publicize that she was leaving work to go out on Intelligence business but was going to be going to deal with personal family business first.

"Justin strikes again?" Jay asked, following after her.

She gave him an annoyed look. "When doesn't he?" she muttered.

Not only had he just fucked up Ethan's day. He'd fucked up hers. Again.

The morning and his departure so they could get back to their 'normal', 'quiet' lives couldn't come soon enough.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Two chapters got posted yesterday. As usual, the second one didn't get an FF bump so you might've pissed it. It's Justin and Ethan at the movies.**


	12. The Man

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Jay gazed out the window as Erin got out of the car – the engine still running – slamming the door. She'd been fuming the entire drive over but hadn't said anything. He could tell she wanted to. She kept opening her mouth like she was going to but then would let out this little disgusted noise, close it with a shake of her head and keep staring out the window. She'd pretty much made the drive to the movie theater like they were in some sort of high-speed chase.

He supposed she likely just wanted to get Ethan out of the situation – or dissipate the tension between him and Justin. Though, he suspected Justin was about to be slammed with a bigger dose of tension with the body language she was presenting as she strode to where Justin was. She brushed right by him, though, barely casting him a look, as she went over to where Ethan was slouched against the wall of the theater, staring at his feet and shivering in the cold and the little bank of snow on the barely cleared sidewalks.

Jay watched her cup the side of Eth's cheek, holding his bright-red, existing her in the palm of her hand for a moment and giving him some little nods as she had a brief conversation with him. She then gestured toward the car and Eth started his way over. She followed with him as far as where Justin was standing sheepishly – his hands shoved in his pockets with a look that definitely said he knew he fucked up but there was no chance in hell he was going to verbally admit to it. Eth kept coming to the car but Erin stayed right in front of Justin and Jay knew the guy was about to get a lashing. It'd been boiling over in her the whole drive. Fuck, it'd been boiling in her the day before too after what had gone down with Eth at the hospital and when she'd dropped him off at home. Then fucking Justin not letting her have more than like twenty minutes visiting her nephew before he's taking him upstairs and letting that baby scream bloody murder. Jay had more than a few things he wanted to say to the guy too. Probably give him more than a tonguelashing. The guy seemed like he fucking needed more than that.

But, he knew he was supposed to stay in the car. Stay out of it. So he did.

He watched Eth get closer and then leaned into the backseat to pop open the door for the kid, him struggling to pull his crutches off the bulky arms of the thick jacket that Voight had got him that year in the apparent never-ending efforts to keep him arm. He staggered some more as he tried to fit them in the door.

"You OK there or you need some help?" Jay called at him.

Eth didn't even look at him. Just a mumble in response. "I'm OK," he said so sadly and weakly. He'd heard stronger voice out of the kid when he was stuck in the hospital bed with tubes running off of him. Justin done a good job at wearing him down in their supposed bonding time.

The kid fumbled around a bit but managed to get himself into the car and pulled the door shut. He leaned against it, though, staring out the window where Erin was talking rather animatedly to Justin.

"Hey," Jay called at him again and Eth gave him a small glance. "Don't look at that. Look here. Talk to me."

Eth shrugged and went back to gazing at the clear verbal sparing that was going on in front of the theater. Some people walking to the box office were giving them glances too.

"You warm enough?" Jay asked and reached to turn up the heat without even waiting for a reply. The only reply he got was a shrug anyways. "Where's your hat?" he asked.

Ethan actually looked at him at that. "Justin said it's stupid to be wearing hats with logos especially inside. And that I wouldn't need it because we were just going from the car to the theater."

Jay rolled his eyes at that and shook his head looking out the window for a moment too. He reached and pulled his own beanie off his head and handed it out to Eth.

"Here," he said. Ethan eyed him but reluctantly took it, pulling it down over his ears. The kid was always freezing. And he knew the scarring on his face was more suspectible to frostbite. Needed to keep those ripples along his temple and where his one ear had once been covered up in these kind of temperatures. And even beyond that, with how fucked up his body was right now, he needed all the warmth he could get so he didn't get fucking pneumonia or something. "You got gloves?" he asked. Ethan gave his head a little shake and Jay pulled his off too, blowing in them a couple times and then holding them out to the kid too. They were workgloves. Light-weight so he could still be handling things easily without constantly having to pull them off. But they were better than bare hands. "Just stick your hands in your pockets too," he said. "Start warming up."

Ethan gave a little nod and went back to gazing at the show. Jay sighed a bit. What was fucked up was that he knew this stuff. And fucking Justin didn't. His fucking older brother couldn't wrap his head around some pretty basic shit: Your little brother is sick; he is cold; you need to keep him warm; he just got out of the hospital; he's on a special diet to cope with the massive amounts of inflammation he has in his nervous system; he is in pain; don't be a dick to him. It seemed pretty fucking simple to Jay. Some pretty basic common sense rules that you think you could manage with any fucking kid who was still in middle school. It wasn't rocket science. It was just treating the kid like a little person and a human being. Knowing he wasn't an adult yet. He wasn't even a teenager yet. He needed you to look out for him a bit and to make him do shit he didn't want to do because it was good for him. Like putting a fucking hat and gloves on in the middle of a fucking Chicago winter when they were in the middle of a giant storm belt that just kept hitting the city.

But apparently that was too much to ask of Justin. And, it pretty much made Jay want to punch him in the face. Repeatedly. Eth was in pain. Let's get Justin to get a bit of a taste of what it feels like. Give him some reason to be on crutches or to have a fucking tube shoved up his dick and into his bladder. Fucking lines being poked into his bone thin, pale arms. Needles with injections having to be pushed into his belly each night. More pills in a single fucking day than some people likely took in a year.

Blind or stupid. That's all he could think about Justin. Blind or so fucking stupid.

But Jay still didn't think Eth really needed to watch the showdown going on outside the window. Though, he was sure it wasn't the first or last time Eth would see Erin and Justin have it out. Seemed liked they butted heads on a fairly regular basis even if Erin did try to look out for Justin like he was her kid brother. Her ability to see him that way and treat him that way seemed to be fading a bit, though, since Henry arrived on the scene and since Eth's condition had worsened.

"I think both the hats you got over the holidays are pretty cool," Jay provided and Eth gave him a little glance and a little shrug.

Fucking Justin likely didn't realize that telling Eth that wearing "logo hats" was stupid now meant that the kid probably wouldn't be wearing them into school when a few days ago the kid had been so fucking excited about having anything with the Blackhawks logo on it. And, Jay had seen the Cubs beanie that Voight had put in the kid's stocking. It was fucking knit and fleece-lined. The objective was clearly to keep the kid warm and he'd just gotten something on it that he thought his kid liked. Now Justin had likely gone and ruined that too. The guy was so fucking ridiculous.

"He hates me," Ethan said quietly looking out the window.

Jay let out a sigh and gazed at where Erin was definitely laying it into him at that point. She was talking with her hands and gesturing in a way that fully demonstrated just how pissed off she was.

"He doesn't hate you," Jay said.

He didn't think he was lying. You don't generally hate your siblings. Have periods of dislike or disdain. But hate? Not really. And, he thought with Justin it had a lot less to do with hate than it did with a fucking attitude problem and just general stupidity. The guy was fucking dense. He just didn't get it. And apparently was fucking blind to everything that was going on on the homefront now that he was there. That or he was so fucking full of himself he just couldn't register anything else that was going on in his family – let alone with his fucking little brother. This fucking little kid.

"He does," Ethan said.

Jay suspected that the kid just wanted Erin back in the car. In anything he probably wanted to get to his dad. Not to fucking run his mouth off – but because it was beyond clear that the kid got some comfort and strength from his dad. It was weird seeing that side of Voight. Maybe more weird since he'd actually gotten to spend some time at the hospital the past few weeks and in Voight's house the past few months and there at Christmas. He knew the guy could be tender with his kids. He'd seen how Erin got treated differently. Looks and touches he gave her. The amount of mouthing off she got away with when Voight would shut anyone else down in instances where they ran lip like that.

It was different with Ethan, though. There was a level of tenderness to it and it was pretty clear since some of the medical shit had been really hitting the fan that the kid sought out comfort from his dad. Supposed that made sense. It wasn't like he had a mom to seek that sort of thing from. And even though Erin provided it too – Jay had seen that – he completely acknowledged getting that sort of support from your parents was different than getting it from a sibling. It's the kind of affirmation that you never quite seemed to kick even when you were completely estranged from your family. Guess Voight hadn't completely fallen out of the hero status yet in Eth's eyes even though he'd definitely done shit that had hurt and disappointed the kid. But there was still hero worship going on. He was still dad. And, even though Jay had witnessed some of Voight's bark being directed at Eth and how the kid sometimes cringed from him in a way that indicated he had a healthy level of fear about his dad, he still pretty much suspected that right then Eth just wanted to go and see his dad and get a hug and be told he wasn't the little freak that Justin had worked on making him feel like that afternoon.

Jay knew Voight wasn't exactly thrilled that he'd witnessed some of that relationship he had with his kid(s). But Jay thought it sorta humanized the guy and there were definitely days and moments that he needed some reminders that Voight was human. And not superhuman either.

Jay looked at Ethan. "You know my brother?"

"Dr. Halstead?"

"Yea," Jay allowed. "We didn't have as big of age gap as you and Justin but we definitely went through a period were we had trouble getting along. Really seemed to me that Will didn't get anything. Was too self-absorbed. But, you know, we're good now. Sometimes you just need to give these things time."

Ethan cast him a little glance. "Justin says you're only nice to me because you want to have sex with Erin."

Jay let out an amused sound and shook his head gazing out the window. "Kid, I think me having sex with Erin has a whole lot more to do with me being nice to her than it does me being nice to you."

He could feel Eth eyeing him and turned back to look at the kid.

"This what you and Justin got going about? He giving you shit about me and Erin getting engaged?"

Eth shrugged at him and went back to gazing out the window himself. Jay was starting to wonder if he should go and intervene. Justin's body language was starting to get pretty pissed off and sometimes the guy was so fucking volatile. He wasn't sure how much he liked Erin being around that, even though he knew she could handle herself. And, she could likely floor Justin in an instant if he decided to do anything stupid.

"Me being nice to you hasn't got anything to do with mine and Erin's relationship," Jay put to him. "Though, I probably wouldn't have met you and got to spend time with you if you weren't her brother. Beyond that?" he shrugged and Ethan looked at him. He nodded out the window. "Justin's her brother too and I don't try to be nice to him."

"He says you give him attitude," Ethan said.

Jay nodded. "Yea," he agreed. "He's right about that." Ethan allowed him a small smile at that. "I tend to give attitude to people who are being asses to people I care about."

Ethan frowned a little and looked out the window. "What's are fuck buddies?" he asked quietly.

Jay let out a little sigh and settled back in his seat, gazing at the kid. "He say me and Erin are fuck buddies too?"

Ethan gave a little nod. "And that you probably won't even get married because you're just fuck buddies."

"Ah," Jay allowed but then found the kid's eyes. "We aren't just fuck buddies. Never were."

Ethan gazed at him. "But what does it mean?" he asked.

Jay shook his head. "It's not important. And, I'll tell you something, Bud, when it comes to sex, the girls are going to like you a whole lot better if you don't kiss and tell. You connect with a girl, you show some respect. You keep whatever you guys shared – whether it was a hug or a kiss or more – between you. No one's business but your own."

Ethan blinked at him for a long time processing that. "I don't think Justin's a man yet," Ethan said quietly. "Even though he's married and has Henry. Not what my dad says a man is."

"Mmm," Jay agreed and looked back out the window. "I'll agree with you on that, Eth. I think your older brother still as a lot of growing up to do."

"You likely meet a lot of what my dad says makes a man," Eth said.

Jay gave him a little smile at that and reached to push up the beanie a bit. It was too fucking big for the kid and sagging into his eyes. With his optical neurosis, he likely wasn't even registering that part of his line of vision was obscured.

"Well, Bud, I don't see eye-to-eye with your dad on a lot of things. But I do try to be a man. A good one."

"Maybe that's why Erin likes you," Eth said.

Jay let out an amused sound. "Likely helps," he acknowledged and looked back out the window again, mumbling, "Likely helps."


	13. Broken Heartbeats

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Erin shook her head as she crossed her arms and glared at Justin. "Un-fucking-believable," she hissed at him.

He glared back at her. "He was mouthing off."

She gave him a snort of disgust at that and looked away, shaking her head. Ethan wasn't a mouthy kid. Not at all. He wanted too badly for people to like him. To be nice to him. The only time he got lippy was when he was provoked. Even for a preteen – bordering on a teenager – he was polite. Her and Justin had been mouthy, attitude problem teens. Ethan didn't fit that definition at all.

When Ethan had first come home there'd been a lot of attitude. There'd been some mouthiness. But that had been more rooted out of anger than anything else. And he was hurting and scared. He had reason to be mouthy. They'd had a couple months from hell with getting him settled in and him fighting against Hank's rules and trying to find his place. But after they'd all had their big blow out and meltdown together – things had calmed. They'd reached a certain level of understanding – especially Ethan with his dad. Now the only time there was really mouthiness out of Ethan was when he'd grown frustrated with his academic struggles and his homework assignments. Hank had gotten some reports from the school about Ethan being mouthy to teachers and giving talk-back. But that was rooted in the same thing. Otherwise, most of Ethan's rudeness was a rough guy act that occasionally got directed at other kids he was trying to impress or other kids who were ganging up on him.

Any mouthiness – if there had even been any – directed at Justin would've been because he felt ganged up on. Erin didn't have to be there to know that. She knew exactly how Justin could get with his brother. And she'd seen the way he'd been treating all of them during his visit home.

So she ignored the accusation. Because she didn't believe it for a second.

"And you couldn't even keep him inside where it was warm until I got here?" she pushed at him.

"He kept walking away from me," Justin spat at her. "I was trying to get him to get in the car. Take him home."

"He doesn't want to get in the car with you, Justin," she barked. "He's not going to want to go home with you!"

"Then where the fuck are you taking him?" Justin spat at her.

She shrugged. "Likely the District."

He glared even more firmly. "So he can go and fucking tell Dad some bullshit just like you did yesterday."

Her anger boiled even more. She hadn't feed Hank anything yesterday. Hank had figured it all out on his own before she gave him a very limited statement. She didn't need to fill in the blanks for him. Hank knew how things were. He wasn't fucking blind. He'd been seeing how Justin was acting too. He was off on some fucking high horse and acting like they weren't giving him the appropriate amount of hero worship on his homecoming. It was fucking ridiculous.

"Ethan doesn't need to tell Dad a fucking thing," Erin said. "Him being there and the look on his face is going to say it all."

"Oh. And what does that say?" Justin rolled his eyes.

"That you broke his heart – again – Justin!" she said with a raised voice. It was taking all she had in her not to fucking scream it at him.

He shook his head at her, gazing away from her – though not toward the car window that she could see her baby brother gazing so sullen out of. "That's such bullshit," he mumbled.

Erin reached and jabbed at his shoulder – hard enough to knock his torso slightly and for him to cast her a dirty look.

"Bullshit is that you can't even manage taking him to a movie," she hissed.

Justin rolled his eyes again. "Maybe if he'd picked another movie."

"He's twelve, Justin," she barked at him. "He wants to see Star Wars. Everyone he knows wants to see Star Wars. He wanted to spend time with you. Do something with you while you were home. What's the big deal about taking him to the fucking movie he wanted to see?"

"If he wanted to do something with me, why aren't we doing something?" Justin put back to her. "Why are we sitting in the dark staring at a screen?"

"BECAUSE HE JUST SPENT TWO FUCKING WEEKS IN THE HOSPITAL, JUSTIN!" she nearly screamed at him. "Him being upright and strong enough to leave the house is an achievement. Doing this – that's enough to take it out of him for the rest of the day!"

"But he can go ice skating and to a hockey game with the family but has to make me spend forty bucks for him to sit on his ass?"

"Yea, Justin," she hissed at him. "He went skating – with the WHOLE family helping him and then slept all afternoon. And, then we went to the hockey game and he slept all Monday. But apparently being there for him when all you have to do is go into his room and make sure he's still breathing was too much for you to handle too."

"Or you're just saving all the actual real memory making stuff –"

Erin gaped at him and shook her head. "Is that what you're on about?" she interrupted. "Jay taking him to laser tag? See, Justin, Jay has some fucking common sense and he can SEE that Ethan is hurting. So is he taking him to laser tag this week? No. He'll take him to a movie. Because that's what he can handle. And that's something that E would be just as happy doing. With him. Or with you!"

"But Pop will take him fishing?" Justin rolled his eyes.

"You hate fishing with your dad!" Erin hissed at him. "And I don't know how Hank is going to handle that. But it will also be with some fucking common sense, Justin. You can't even keep him in a movie theater to keep him warm. You think you can handle having him ice fishing?" she rolled her eyes.

"Right," Justin said. "Or you're just saving all the good stuff for you and Pop … and Halstead."

She crossed her arms at him. "Yeah, Justin," she said. "All the good stuff. You mean like the past two weeks where we spent hours in the hospital each day. Your dad sleeping sitting up. Or maybe you mean when I got to hold his hand while he tried not to cry as they were shoving a catheter into his penis. Or maybe it's those classes I had to take to learn how to give my baby brother injections every fucking night that I'm there. We're just saving all the 'good stuff' for ourselves."

"You take him to movies and museums and shit too," Justin rolled his eyes.

She just gaped at him and shook her head. "And you're jealous that I spend time with my baby brother?" she put to him in complete confusion. "I live here, Justin. He's my brother. I'm supposed to spend time with him. If you were here, I'd spend time with you too."

Justin just looked away from her. "You and Pop are spoiling him."

She shook her head in more disbelief. "Spoiling him? How the fuck are we spoiling him?"

She didn't think Hank knew how to spoil his kids. She didn't think he had it in him. Take care of them. Go to extremes to protect them. But do anything that came close to spoiling? Not really. There were moments – occasions – where he made sure his kids knew it was a moment or an occasion. Christmas. Birthdays. They got gifts. They got some day in the food that got put in front of them. Maybe they got taken to a special event. But nothing was ever over the top. Not ever.

"Did you see all the shit he got for Christmas and he's hardly even said thank you to anyone," Justin muttered.

Erin made a face at him. "Justin, it's you who sounds spoiled right there. Dad got you and Olive lots. If anyone in the house was spoiled – it was Henry."

"I have never seen him ever put so much crap in our stockings growing up as E had sprawled out in the front room this week," Justin put to her sternly.

Justin was so fucking clueless. Ethan got one present from his dad – just like everyone else. His Snap Circuits. And Erin completely understood Hank's motivation behind that. It was an educational toy. Normally it would've been sports gear. That wouldn't have been a good choice this year. At all. And Ethan was loving the gift. She'd seen him playing with it every day since Christmas. She'd sat through explanations and demonstrations of his inventions. Hank had made a good choice.

As for the stocking stuffers? A movie. Sometimes all Ethan could manage anymore was watching TV. The movie had come with a digital copy that they could put on his phone or the work iPad so he could watch it over and over. Ethan liked watching familiar things over and over. It was about what his concentration level could handle. The Spot It cards were from Ethan's therapy. It was another smart gift to get a copy in the house. The comic book – Star Wars that he'd been talking endlessly about – and a book Ethan could actually look through on his own; even if it was just to look at the pictures. The novel – something for Hank to read to Ethan in the hospital to pass time and something of enough interest to the kid that he'd try to read it himself too. The rest of the stocking was pretty standard: baseball cards, plastic dinosaurs, chocolate, socks, underwear, a candy cane. It'd all been matched in either own stockings. That year and in years previous.

The only thing Justin might have reason to have the smallest twinge of jealousy about was the videogame. And even that was misguided – because he was a grown man. Who the fuck cared anymore if Ethan was being allowed some videogames when they hadn't been in the house? And it was a little kid Lego game. Jurassic Park. It wasn't anything to get that bent out of shape about. It was likely Hank's small way of letting his kid still get Lego at Christmas. And it was also something to continue to encourage Ethan to keep using his hands even when they weren't co-operating for him.

And if it wasn't that he was on about? The toy dinosaur? Ethan was in love with that thing. He'd wanted it so badly. He was making him so happy to have it. It might as well be his puppy. So who cared if it was an 'extra' gift? After the kind of month Ethan had had maybe he needed an extra gift. He needed something to make him smile. Or maybe that's exactly what Hank needed. Either way – who gave a fuck?

All Erin gave a fuck about was that her baby brother was home and functional and able to kind of enjoy his holidays. That they were together. Apparently that wasn't enough for Justin.

"I don't know what kind of thank you you're looking for Justin," she said. "But I've heard those words out of his mouth and if you'd sit and spend some time with him – play with him, help him with the Snap Circuits or the videogame – I think his face would say thank you too."

Justin just rolled his eyes again and she was feel more and more like smacking him. So hard. Until it knocked some sense in him.

"Look," he spat, "Olive's got family in town too. It's not like I'm here to be a babysitter for you and Pop so you can go to work and just leave him at the house expecting me to watch him."

Erin glared at him. "Yea, Justin," she said. "We've been asking a whole lot of you in the whooping five days you're home. What was your dad thinking in that you might want to spend some time with your brother? That you could have some one-on-one time while we were at work?"

"We have to visit Olive's aunt too," Justin hissed at her.

She eyed him. "You did," she said firmly. "Twice."

Justin huffed at her and gestured madly in the general direction of the house. "Just get him to cool down and drive him home."

Erin shook her head at him. "No," she said.

"NO?" Justin spat at her.

She shrugged. "It's you who needs to cool down and I'm not driving him home to take more verbal abuse from you."

Justin glared at her. "Keep Pop out of this, Erin," he hissed.

She eyed him firmly. "Justin, it's not just Ethan's heart you're breaking with all this fucking attitude this visit," she said flatly and started for the car. "It's your dad's."

He just gazed after her. She gave him another glance as she got in the car. He kept watching but didn't say anymore. Which was fine. She was sick of talking to him about any of it anyways.

She glanced into the backseat instead and gave Ethan a weak smile. He looked at her sadly.

"You up to going and doing some police work with me and Jay before we head back to District?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I guess so," he said weakly.

She gave him a little nod. "It's going to be fun," she promised.

But that was a lie. He'd sit in the car while they went in to talk to this guy. Then she'd drive him back to the district and they'd all see Hank's face at the realization that his youngest was there. Then Ethan would get regulated to spending the rest of the afternoon in the break room, sitting with Platt or downstairs with Mouse.

But it likely still was going to be more fun than spending time with Justin at that point.

And that just made her a little sad too.

It wasn't supposed to be like that.


	14. Too Much To Ask

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Voight came out of his office as he heard the now familiar clicking of his youngest coming up the stairs into his bullpen. It was a slow process – his boy on the stairs. Halstead appeared first and gave him a look, as he frowned from his office door. The guy had a look that meddled sympathy and disgust but he didn't say anything. He just looked back down the stairs and waited until E appeared at the top, Erin taking up the rear – making sure that her little brother didn't have any stumbles and needed someone to grab for him with his clumsy feet and delayed reactions with his hands.

Ethan gave him an embarrassed look and glanced around the rest of the bullpen – taking in the rest of the detectives who were in that day. They were looking at him. Magoo hated being looked at – especially anymore. It used to be about the scars on his face. But now it was all about those crutches.

Erin just gave him a little shake of the head and shrug as she got to the top of the stairs. That was really all she needed to say. He could read through the lines for the rest.

J had managed to stick his foot in his mouth. Or worse. His two boys spending some time together hadn't happened. Or better – it had and it'd upset his youngest. Obviously badly if he was opting to spend his afternoon here rather than at the movies or at home in front of the TV or hiding out in his room.

Voight didn't need to speculate too much on what J might've said or done. His attitude toward E had been showing since Christmas Day and it'd only been growing. It was so fucking annoying. J insisted on being kept abreast of everything that was going on with E's health – no matter how distracting it might be to his own situation. And after some of their family's turbulence over the summer and with E's homecoming and health decline, he'd honored that request. He got on the horn to J or Olive after every doctor or hospital visit. Or had Erin put in the call. And on the phone – J was a saint to his little brother. Expressed concern, asked questions, goofed off with him. Set up all this excitement about older brother coming home. And then when he got home it was just disappointment after disappointment.

Voight had tried to be patient about it. As was usual for him, he created all sorts of excuses for his son. That it was hard to see E like this. That it was a shock to see him on crutches or tremoring. To be reminded how his brain wasn't snapping quite the same way anymore. To see him need help with what might've been – or should be – simple things: cutting his food, managing a pen, getting a fork or spoon up to his mouth, reading, not ending up with piss all over himself or leaving a Hershey trail in his shorts because he couldn't manage cleaning up after himself quite the same way anymore. There were lots of changes. And it was hard to see. But the person it should be most upsetting for was E. Everyone else around him just needed to rally. Not give him shit. But J only seemed to be able to rally from a distance. In the house, he became a fucking asshole. And Voight had trouble understanding how he could be that hard and impatient on his little brother. Let alone be that way now that he was a father too. How he could treat a child like that when he had a child of his own. How'd he feel if something like that happened to H and if someone was treating his boy the way he was treating E?

J would be bashing skulls. Voight would be bailing him out of jail and dealing with more assault charges. That's what would be happening. But apparently it was OK for him to be an ass to Ethan.

Only it wasn't. And he was becoming increasingly frustrated with it. E didn't need that right now. He was low enough after his stay in the hospital. He was scared enough about all the crap he was going to take from the other kids when he went back to school. He didn't need his brother just reaffirming that.

Erin brushed by him without a word, taking off her jacket and draping it over the back of her chair at her desk.

"You talk to the guy?" he asked.

"Yea," she nodded and gave a vague nod at Halstead, like he was going to get to be responsible for giving him the rundown. Likely meant it hadn't been an overly productive shakedown – or else she'd be claiming partial responsibility for getting some mouth-time in there.

He glanced at Halstead, who seemed distracted with jabbing at keys on his computer. The way the guy pounded at the thing, he was amazed they weren't having to replace keyboards in the barn more often. All of them were fucking bulls in a china shop with that kind of stuff.

So instead, he shifted his eyes back to Magoo's slow process across the bullpen. Whatever Lindsay and Halstead had or hadn't accomplished could obviously wait. It'd pretty much been make busy work anyways. Give them a short break from paperwork so that he could partially mute the instrumental huffs and groans he heard outside his office door from the lot of them. They were driving him fucking crazy with it. Especially Ruzek. That guy sounded like paperwork was on par with passing a fucking kidney stone.

"Sorry, Dad," he said quietly.

But Voight shook his head and put his one arm around the kid in a loose half-hug. About as much as he was willing to give that publicly and as much as the kid could handle on his crutches anyways.

"Don't think you're the one that ought to be handing out apologies," he muttered.

E made a little dejected noise. Seemed like most of his noises had that tone to them lately. Every time Voight that maybe he'd achieved something to build his kid up a little bit – it just seemed to come tumbling right back down.

"C'mon," Voight nudged him toward the break room. "We'll get you set up with a movie or something in there."

"Not Star Wars," E mumbled.

And Voight let out a little noise of his own. Pure frustration. How could J fuck up sitting through a movie with his brother? He didn't know what was easier – yesterday and him having to check on him in the afternoon after his appointment or going and sitting with him in a dark theater for a couple hours? Neither were exactly challenging proposals. They could've had a decent time. Done some brotherly shit. Talked sports. J could've taught him poker with that fucking set E picked for him. Sat through Monopoly. Told him about his Signal Corps prep while showing him something with the Snap Circuits. Watched one of the James Bond movies Erin had given J. Played something on the fucking Xbox. Gone through the baseball cards. Goof around with H together. Take him for some fries. None of this had to be fucking rocket science. Why did Justin have to make it so fucking difficult? E wasn't a hard kid to entertain. And right now – E knew his limits. He was still tired. He was still hurting. He was still figuring out how to maneuver himself. It wasn't like he was overdoing thing.

"Yea," Voight allowed. "Not Star Wars."

He wondered if J realized that by giving up that opportunity meant that E would just get it with someone else. With Michelle. Or with him. Or with Erin and Halstead. Someone. Someone who wasn't him. Because he couldn't hold his tongue and just play along with the fucking twelve-year-old for a couple hours. Meanwhile, E had sucked up and done a lot of shit that was likely low on his list of wants on the weekend: skating, a hockey game, watching H's shows on the TV. But his kid in his 20s couldn't suck it up?

Justin let his ego get in the way too much sometimes. Sometimes he couldn't see passed his own nose. Too much. Too fucking much.

"Thanks for not sucking," E said to him mutely as they got some privacy in the break room, as Voight pulled out a chair at the table for him.

"Yea," Voight sighed. "Let's all try not to suck for another bit here."

Sad part … Ethan would likely be able to handle that. Justin … he wasn't going to hold his breath.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Reviews, feedback and comments are appreciated. The next chapter might jump ahead a bit.**


	15. Knock at the Door

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Voight sat up on his elbow, leaning across his bed to turn on his night lamp. He'd heard Ethan get up in the night.

He was pretty attuned to any movement in his house but since Ethan's health decline, he'd felt like he had an infant in the home again, where his body and mind just seemed to sense anytime he was awake – and then he'd be awake too listening for movement. If movement or a call for help didn't come, he'd usually find himself getting out of bed anyways to go peek in the boy's door and make sure he was OK.

That night there had been movement. Ethan had made a slow shuffle to the bathroom. He'd heard the toilet seat get put up and a rather extended start and stop urination flowing out of his son. But there hadn't been any flush of the toilet and no water running at the sink as he washed his hands. Though, Ethan might just be half asleep and had skipped those steps, that possibility had quickly passed when he heard the door open and rather than Ethan making the short shuffle across the hall to his room, Voight had heard his hand on the wall, guiding him to his door and him standing outside the crack gauging whether he was asleep.

He wasn't. So he flicked on his light and squinted through the brightness as his eyes adjusted and found his boy's gleaming eye staring at him through the crack.

"What's up, Magoo?" he enquired.

"I think something might be wrong," Ethan said quietly with just the faintest tremble to his voice.

"OK," Voight allowed, sitting himself upright on the edge of the bed and rubbing at his eyes for a moment. He'd actually been sleeping fairly decently for the past couple hours. He thought. Sometimes a couple hours was all you could really hope for.

He pushed himself to his feet and wandered to where he'd left his tshirt and jeans from the night before draped. The tshirt got pulled over his head. Hopefully this would be quick enough he wouldn't feel the need to pull on his jeans. Though, with Olive and the baby in the house, he was likely being overly modest the past few days. Putting his fucking jeans back on even if he got up to take a leak at 4 a.m. Didn't need to scar them for life or create more awkwardness in the family and house than there already was if they caught him wandering the halls in the dark in his shorts. And, he might as well just get dressed. Get up then, the chance of him getting another hour after that were zilch anyways. Best just to get up and on the go.

He gave the clock on the nightstand a glance before trudging to his bedroom door. Only 3 a.m.. He'd definitely only gotten a couple hours. Oh well.

He pushed the door open to gaze at his kid. He didn't have his crutches with him and he was bracing himself against the wall for added support – looking like he might fall over at any second. And his face looked like he was about to fall over too. Even more pale than usual and downright clammy. E's eyes were rather glazed looking too and just off.

"You OK?" Voight asked, a rush of concern surging through his body. His hand came up to Ethan's forehead and cheeks. His was burning up but his teeth were chattering and he was trembling. "Are you cold?" he demanded. The boy nodded but just pointed with his free hand back to the bathroom.

"My pee looks funny," he muttered and started working to turn himself around and stagger back that way.

Voight didn't wait for him, breezing by him to the john. He looked into the toilet. The urine was nearly a florescent orange. Not yellow. Not red or pink. But just this dark amber color that nearly glowed.

He moved back out of the bathroom, brushing by E again, who was at the door now, looking in at him with still lost-looking eyes and shaking teeth.

"Don't flush the toilet," he muttered as his boy, as he returned to his bedroom and retrieved his phone, only to return to the bathroom again and see E gazing at the urine.

Voight brushed at his hair. It was drenched with sweat too and as he went to grip his shoulder, he felt that the kid's pyjamas were soaked too. He let out a little sigh and sunk onto the edge of the tub, pulling his arm around his son's waist so he had added support while he waited for the line to ring through.

"Yea, this is Hank Voight," he barked into the phone as the hospital switchboard picked up. "My son's Ethan Voight. I need to speak to the on-call or his nurse. … Yeah, his health file number is—" and he recited it off from memory. He nodded as the person at the switchboard said they'd page the appropriate person for him.

He stood again, nudging Ethan to sit on the edge of the tub and went to the medicine cabinet, pulling it open to look for the thermometer. It wasn't in it's fucking spot. He let out a sigh and held a finger at his son for him to stay put.

He crossed the hall, flicking the switch in E's room. The little oil heater wasn't even on. The room wasn't that warm. He went over to his boy's bed. The heating blanket was on but only on a medium setting – not enough to be having his boy dripping sweat like that. He looked at the kid's nightstand. He hadn't forgotten the thermometer in there. So he went to his own bedroom to see if he'd left it on his own nightstand. It wasn't there either.

He gazed down the hall a moment trying to remember if they'd had it downstairs. Shouldn't, though. They usually did E's medical stuff upstairs – privacy.

He let out another little sigh as he realized that maybe Olive had claimed it with all the fusing fussing H was doing about those teeth trying to break through. He didn't really like having to wake them up when he knew the baby was keeping them up but he didn't have a lot of choice in the matter. He needed to check out if his boy was running a fever.

He knocked relatively lightly on the door, hoping that maybe he could rouse the adults without waking his grandson. They must've heard his and E's movements anyway because the door flew open near instantly and Justin gazed out at him.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"You guys got the thermometer?" he asked.

"Ah …" J squinted back into the dark room. "Yea. I think so. Why?"

"Need it," Voight said. "Your brother looks like he's got a fever."

At that point, the nurse started talking into his ear and he just gestured at his oldest boy to get the thing and started to move back to the bathroom. E was still sitting on the edge of the tub, gazing into the toilet with this dazed look of confusion on his face. Voight leaned in the doorway for a moment, squeezing at his temples and examining the floor.

"Yea, it's my son, Ethan," he said. "He was discharged on the Twenty-Third. Ended up with him back in there the night of the Twenty-Fourth. They put a catheter in for the weekend and discharged us again in the early hours of the Twenty-Fifth. … Yeah," he muttered as the nurse called up their file and asked a couple questions. "Yeah. So we had him back in for the IV steroids on the Twenty-Sixth, Twenty-Seventh, Seventh-Eighth. They took the catheter out in the early afternoon on the Twenty-Eighth and I'm up with him right now. His piss is this orange color. Thinking he likely has some blood in it. And he's looking feverish."

J tapped him on the shoulder and held up the thermometer at him. He took it, going to the cabinet again and switching out the cover. He gestured at E to come over and on unsure feet he did.

"Yea," Voight muttered to the nurse again. "I'm about to check it." He looked down at his son and tilted his own head to old the phone to his shoulder, while he nudged his boy's head and put the thermometer into his ear. "Yea …" Voight muttered as he waited for the thing to go through its beep cycle and measure his kid's temperature. "Well, we got told the catheter had caused a urinary tract infection and they've had him on some antibiotics the last couple days."

The thermometer did its long deep and he pulled it out of E's ear and looked at it giving a little sigh. "OK, he's got a fever … It's 102. … Look, the kid is just soaked in sweat right now but he says he's cold."

Voight nodded a little bit and moved back over to sit on the edge of the tub with E. J was staying in the door and staring. Voight wasn't sure that was that bright given the current status between him and his brother. They were in rocky territory. Things hadn't exactly been resolved that evening. E had pretty much avoided J and J had pretty much voided Voight, likely out of fear that he was going to get his head bit off about it all.

"Yea … It was his sister that was in with him on Monday," Voight muttered a bit and rubbed at E's back. His boy was giving him this sad look. He likely knew they were on the verge of being told to bring him in to get him checked over. "Erin … Lindsay," Voight added.

Voight examined E's eyes as he listened to the nurse again. He could hear her keyboard taking in information. His boy didn't really look all there but if he was running a fever and it was that time of night, he likely wasn't.

"Nah, I don't think he's peed much since they took the catheter out," he asked, looking at his son for confirmation but E didn't give him any. But he definitely hadn't been hearing E headed for the can as much as he'd like given the fact his kidneys needed to be flushing this crap out of him from all the drugs they were pumping into him. "E, did it hurt when you peed?" he repeated the questioning by the nurse but his kid just shrugged. He gave him sterner eyes. "It either did or it didn't." His son nodded. "Yea … he says it did," he relayed and listened again. "It burn or it further up?" he asked. "It feel like it was a pain in your bladder or kidneys?"

"I don't know," Ethan whined at him and gave him sadder eyes.

Voight didn't an interior sigh and stared at the floor for a moment. "He doesn't know," he muttered and the nodded. "You notice any blood or discharge … like pus … coming out when you were going?" he asked. Ethan just gazed blankly at him and Voight gestured at the kid's sleep pants. "Check it out," he ordered but with a bit of softness.

"Dad …" Ethan whined and he gave him sterner eyes. E made a little defeated sound and pulled out his waistband and gazed down at himself ever-so briefly and then shook his head.

"You hardly even looked," Voight put to him bluntly.

"Dad …," he whimpered again. "I don't wanna go back to the hospital.

Voight gave him even firmer eyes. "You take a real look, I take a real look or we go to the hospital and someone there takes a real look," he said.

Ethan's eyes got sadder and he pulled back his waistband again, actually reaching in and checking things out that time.

"No," he said quietly. "I don't think so …"

Voight squeezed at the bridge of his nose and stood. "Yea, he doesn't think there's anything leaking out right now," he provided.

He paced a bit and shook his head, letting his hand drop. "No, we follow his diet real close. He got a couple treats on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day but since they pulled the catheter out we've been back to—"

He saw the way that J was glaring across the bathroom to his little brother. There was pure accusation to it. Complete warning. He shot his son a look and turned to his youngest. E was cowering. Voight knew exactly what was going on.

He spun back to Justin. "What'd you give him?" he demanded.

"Nothing," J spat defensively.

Voight drilled holes in him but Justin refused to budge. He turned back to Ethan.

"Magoo," he ordered, "what'd you eat?"

"Nothing," E said weakly.

Voight shook his head and pointed a finger at his youngest. "You will not boldface lie to my face, Ethan," he hissed. "What did you eat?"

Ethan's eyes darted to Justin's again but Voight just tracked their movement, keeping his line of sight directly in his boy's. The kid looked down at the floor.

"Coke and popcorn with butter and seasoning shaker on it," he whispered.

Voight ran his tongue around his mouth as he seethed, turning to drill holes in Justin who just projected defiance at him. Like he was in the right. Like he hadn't done shit all. That fucking pain in the ass teenaged kid glaring at him. Not an adult man – not a father.

"He had dairy and sugar today. Likely vinegar too," Voight put bluntly into the phone, turning and looking back to his obviously ill kid. "Yeah …," he agreed, glancing at his watching. "… Yeah, I'm going to bring him in. … Should be there in about forty minutes. … You just want us to go to triage? … Yeah … OK … Thanks."

He hung up and eyed his deflated boy, stepping forward. He carefully pressed down his matted hair and then reached to put his fingers under E's chin, tilting it until he looked up at him.

"You know better," he put to him evenly. E just looked at him with sad, unfocused eyes. His boy was burning up. He could feel it all the way through his arm, just casually touching him then. There was almost a quiet rattle to him too. Worse than a wheeze. Just off. Something was really off. He let out a little sigh and gestured for Ethan to rise. His boy did and he wrapped him in a careful hug. He could feel the rattle and the heat even more as his kid settled against him. "You're gonna put on some dry clothes," he said evenly. "Warm clothes. Throw a couple things in a backpack. We're going to take a drive."

"I don't want to go back to the hospital, Dad," Ethan whimpered against him.

"You're burning up, Ethan," he said firmly. "You've got blood in your piss – at least. We need to go let the docs take a look at you."

Ethan clutched to him. Tightly. As tightly as his tired, weak, defeated arms could. But Voight carefully extracted himself and looked at his boy.

"Go," he said more firmly, giving him a nod with his head toward the door.

Ethan dejectedly started to go – hobbling across the narrow bathroom and looking even more cautiously (almost frightfully) at his brother who was still blocking the door. Voight glared at his older son until he stepped aside and let E through. He waited until E had got into his bedroom and shut the door. Not that it made any difference, because as soon as the door shut, Voight pointed accusingly at J.

"You," he hissed between clenched teeth. "Downstairs. Now."

"Pop—" Justin started.

But Voight was having none of it. "DOWNSTAIRS," he all out barreled and near charged for the door. It was enough for his tough guy son to step back and eye at him in some surprise until he let out a sigh, casting a glance at the bedroom he'd come out of and headed for the stairs.

Voight followed, glancing at the bedroom too. Olive was standing gently bouncing Henry in her arms. Her eyes looked so apologetic. More than making up for the utter lack of apology that existed in Justin's competence.

Not that that calmed Voight at all. He'd had enough. More than enough. And he was done biting his tongue and being patient. Not anymore.


	16. Man Child

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

"Pop," Justin spat out – standing in the center of the front room, the Christmas tree lights splashing over him – before Voight even got to the bottom of the stairs, "it's not like I force fed him any of it."

Voight finished his descent and glared at his son. "You didn't have to force fed him. He's twelve. You put a bunch of food in front of him he hasn't been allowed to have in months and tell him he can eat it, he's going to eat it."

"Yea, Pop," Justin pushed back at him. "He's twelve. And like you said right to him, he shoulda known better. He's not supposed to eat it. He shouldnta eaten it."

Voight felt like just about lunging across room at him. "You knew he shouldn't be eating it," he spat back at him. "I specifically told you in the morning not to give him any of that crap!"

J rolled his eyes. "Dad, I saw you give him a pop at the game. He had chocolate, cookies, dessert on Christmas."

"HE HAD THE FUCKING CATHETER IN!" Voight all out yelled at him. "It was getting out of him."

Justin just huffed and crossed his arms. "Pop, c'mon. A Coke and some popcorn ain't making him that sick."

Voight drilled holes in him. "Justin, how many fucking times do I need to explain this to you," he hissed as he fought to keep his temper from boiling over. To keep himself from yelling at his oldest in a way that rose even more stress in his youngest and that upset his son's wife and his infant grandson. "Your brother has multiple sclerosis. It's a fucking neurological autoimmune disease that causes INFLAMMATION in his brain, spine and optic nerves. His immune system is compromised! His body is riddled with inflammation! FUCKING SUGAR AND VINEGAR! OPENS UP HIS ENTIRE FUCKING BODY TO INFECTION! CORN! WHEAT! DAIRY! THEY FUCKING CAUSE INFLAMMATION! SWELLING! He just got OUT OF THE HOSPITAL from a FUCKING RELAPSE of his SYMPTOMS! HE'S JUST HAD FUCKING STEROIDS PUMPED INTO HIM to TO TRY TO DEAL WITH IT! He's already dealing with a FUCKING INFECTION from that FUCKING CATHETER! And YOU JUST FED HIM FOOD THAT OPENS HIM UP TO ALL OF THAT BULLSHIT! AGAIN! HOW FUCKING HARD IS THIS FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND, SON? WHAT THE FUCK ABOUT THIS IS IT THAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND?"

Voight dropped his hand that he realized he'd been pointing violently at his son as he screamed at him. His plan to not yell had gone out the window. He shook his head and gazed at the floor. Apparently he'd been loud enough that he'd actually shut up his oldest boy for two seconds and he took a moment of his own to compose himself.

"You wanted information about pediatric multiple sclerosis," Voight finally muttered. "I sent you that book. Have you even cracked the cover?"

"Pop," J stumbled. "C'mon. The baby—"

Voight's eyes bolted back to him, the boiling starting again. "You know who's looked at it? Read it?" he spat. "Your wife. You know how I know? Because she's said things. Asked questions. So don't give me fucking bullshit about the baby or the job."

"My job's kinda important, Pop," Justin mouthed.

Voight let out an annoyed noise and shook his head as he ran his tongue through his mouth again, trying to calm himself. Trying to keep himself from grabbing his son by his throat and getting right in his face.

"Your job is kind of important," Voight muttered under his breath, trying to keep himself from laughing at that comment coming from his son. There was something SO FUCKING laughable about Justin making that comment. And in it's own way that was fucking heartbreaking too. He wanted to be proud of him and what he was doing – but right then? He couldn't be. Especially when he was using something as important as the work he did as some sort of lax argument and excuse for his failures in front of his family. His fucking son – always with the fucking excuses and placing the blame for his actions elsewhere.

Voight made himself look up and scanned the front room. His wife's front room. Still. In so many ways. The Christmas decorations still up. They would be for a few more days. They usually left them up until the New Year's. For a long time they left them up right until the Epiphany but he'd gotten away from that since Camille had been gone. Usually didn't like having the holidays lurking around that long. Too much to think about when it was all hanging out like that. This year, though, just leaving it up to the First almost seemed too short. Barely had any of it up a week with E having been in the hospital for so much of December. Now he was going to be missing another day of it. Hopefully that was all. Hopefully whatever was causing the fever and wheeze and cold sweat in his son wasn't going to land them in the hospital for days or weeks again.

"Take a look around this room," Voight put to J and met his confused eyes, which darted to try to take in the space without having to move his head or body. "What do you see?"

J just shrugged at him. "Just the front room, Pop. The tree."

Voight gave a little nod at that. "I see the family room of a middle-class family," he said.

"Pop—" Justin interjected again.

"Would you just shut your mouth," Voight hissed, drilling his eyes at his son again until he quieted. "We aren't rich people."

"Dad, I know—"

"No, Justin," Voight pushed back at him. "I don't think you know shit because if you did, we wouldn't be having to have conversations like this over and over. We are not rich people, J. We don't live like rich people. And I NEED my job to take care of my family."

"Dad, I know—" Justin tried again.

"No, you don't," Voight barked again and glared at him. "Do you have any concept of how much treatment for your brother costs? How much these heavy duty IVs cost when he's got when of his relapses? These injections I've got to be giving him daily? The imaging? The hospital stay in December?"

Justin shrugged. "Lots," he allowed. "But you've got insurance."

Voight nodded. "Yea," he pressed. "I've got insurance. Through work. That lets me get that care for my boy. That gets him into cognitive therapy and rehab and physical therapy and psycho therapy and every fucking therapy known to man so your little brother can have every possible opportunity to navigate this maze and lead the best and most productive life as possible. And the reason he's going to be able to do that – that I can make sure he has all those things in front of him – is because of my job."

Justin just stared at him blankly. Still nothing was registering with him.

"And, then when I've got you pulling asshole moves—"

"POP—" he rose his voice.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! AND LISTEN!" Voight barked at him, glaring so hard his own eyes protested. "When you pull BULLSHIT like handing him food that you KNOW he's not supposed to have. FOOD that opens him up to all kinds of inflammation and infection. FOOD that very well might be THE FUCKING REASON I'm taking him into the hospital tonight. It makes me feel like you're fucking sabotaging me."

"Dad—" Justin said a bit more defeated at that.

Voight just shook his head. "I have taken A LOT of fucking time off work this month to take care of my family," he said. "Now I'm going to be taking today too. There is only so much time I take before it starts biting me in the ass. And if that ass-fuck involves me losing my unit, losing my rank or ending up behind some fucking desk pushing paper – it means I am going to be less able to take care of my family. And that's a big fucking problem for me, Justin."

"Look, Dad, I didn't know," Justin said.

Voight let out a sigh and shook his head. "You did," he said, looking at the ceiling. "We've done this too many times now. J – you're a good big brother from a distance. You are great with him on the phone. Us coming out to visit you guys – you seemed to be able to handle it then too. But every time you come home?" Voight just shrugged at him in defeat.

"Pop, it's just I get in this house—"

"And you start acting like you're about fifteen," Voight nodded at him. "I'm being generous there." He let out a little noise and examined his feet. "J, I want so badly to be proud of you—"

"Pop—" Justin pressed again, his voice starting to weaken.

But Voight held up a hand to stop him. "I do. And out there," he said, gesturing at the window, "away from here – I am. I'm proud of you putting some real effort into this Army thing. I'm proud of you taking on night school and working on some college courses. Of thinking about Signal Corps. I'm proud of the dedication and discipline you're showing in that. I'm proud of you getting your first house. I'm proud of you and Olive really trying this on and making a family and home for Henry. And, I'm real proud of that grandson of mine. I like the man I see you starting to become. I like seeing that guy I always knew you were. And, J, I've been trying real hard too to make up for some of my past mistakes with you. With all you kids. But it means that I've been making all kinds of excuses for you again – because I sure liked the guy who walked in this door on Christmas Day and brought me home my daughter-in-law and my grandson. That guy who drove through a blizzard so his family could be together on Christmas and so he could see his sick baby brother. But that guy was here all of what … three hours?" Voight shrugged. "I don't know where he went. But he's not here. And it's the same thing every time you come to visit. And that's just not good for any of us."

"Pop, it's just …" Justin shook his head. "You know, I was tired and the baby …"

Voight nodded. "Yea," he allowed. "I've been handing out those excuses to your brother and to your sister. Them and lots more. But, you know, J, they don't hold so much weight. I'm tired. I'm real fucking tired. So's Erin. And your brother? He's just not well. But – we're putting on our happy faces and we're trying. You just aren't. You don't. Not when you're here. I don't know why. But I'm not doing it anymore."

"Pop—" Justin pressed harder – like he must've known what was coming.

But Voight was done. He was so fucking done. "J, you're supposed to be leaving today anyway," he said. "But, I want you out of my house." He saw Justin's shocked face fall. His mouth falling into a gape. "I'm taking your brother to the hospital. I don't know if we're going to be a couple hours or a couple days. But when we get back, I want you gone. And I don't want you to come back here until that man I talk to on the phone and who I see when we come visit you on base is ready to be here. And I don't think that's going to be for a good while."

He turned and started to make for the stairs as his son stared at him in disbelief.

"Pop, c'mon, I'm sorry," Justin managed to stutter out. It didn't sound sincere or even like he knew what he was apologizing for.

So Voight just gave his head another small shake and looked at him over the banister.

"J," he provided flatly. "That kid upstairs – he's a child. My child. That's where my priority is. You're my kid but you aren't a child anymore. You're a man. It's time to start acting like one."

He went back up the stairs and saw Olive still standing in the doorway of Erin's bedroom. Her face creased with a frown. Her eyes were slightly glassy and a sadness radiated off her. He gave her a thin smile.

"I'm sorry, Hank," she said.

He shook his head firmly. "Not you who's got to be giving any apologies," he said and reached to stroke at the cheek of his grandson. His cheeks were tear streaked too – wailing against those nasty teeth. "I had a real nice visit with you two," he said, giving his grandbaby a little smile before finding Olive's eyes. "You don't take any bullshit," he told her. "You remind him he's pissed at me – not you or his grandson."

She just shook her head a little sadly. "Hank … I just … I mean … thank you for everything you've done for us. For Christmas and the visit and just … getting things established with Henry."

He just gave a little nod and gave her shoulder a little squeeze. "You guys have a safe drive home and don't worry – we'll get you up on the Skype real soon. Need to keep track of this guy," he said and ruffled H's hair one last time before trudging to his bedroom to close the door and change for the trip to the hospital.

But instead he just stood against the door for a moment and looked at his and Camille's room. And he wondered – yet again – how different everything would be if she hadn't been taken from him.

"None of this," he muttered at an indecipherable whisper. None of it would even be happening. None of it at all.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: So votes on how sick you want Ethan to be this relapse? Basically do you want Hank to go through some major angst and sadness and anger issues or want to move things along? I'll take any feedback by PM into consideration when deciding how I want to do the next bit.**


	17. Hand Fed

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

"Just a second," Erin muttered, interrupting him in the middle of the likely not so deep thought he was mumbling at her in their late-night pillow talk conversation.

He let out a little sigh, though, as she moved away from him and he watched her silhouetted figure move across the room in only the light spilling in from the giant window in her bedroom. He shook his head as she headed over to the little cardboard box in the corner and crouched in front of it, making soothing little noises. But he made an even bigger sound of protest as she rose back up with the puppy clutched against her chest.

Jay shook his head and pointed back to the box. "It's not getting in bed with us," he said.

She cast his a look and kept carrying the dog over, stroking at it's little head and telling it not to listen to him.

"It's a baby," she provided. "He's scared."

She plopped it in the center of the bed and it roly-poly navigated itself to stare at Jay.

"No," Jay said firmly. "It heard us talking and is looking for affection."

She gave him warning eyes and got back in on her side and started stroking at its head.

He rolled his eyes and watched her petting the little dog. Little for now. The thing was clearly a mixed-breed mutt but Jay had known enough dogs in his life that he was pretty sure that thing wasn't going to be little for too long. It definitely looked like he had some larger breed in him – and his paws were a dead give away. They might as well be snowshoes.

"You're teaching it that it's OK to get up on the bed," Jay put to her.

She cast him another look and shrugged. "So? Ethan's going to want him in the bed."

Jay snorted at that and she gave him a little glare. "You are still living in the delusion that this dog is going to end up at Voight's house and that we haven't suddenly had a furbaby that I wasn't consulted on."

It was her turn to snort her disgust at that. "I don't need to consult you."

He reached and tapped at the ring on her finger. "Ah … yeah. That says some head's up would be nice."

"I gave you a head's up," Erin said and he looked at her speculatively. "Last night."

"Umm, no," Jay said. "We talked about it last night and concluded you were insane and that neither of us have room in our apartments for a dog when this blows up in your face."

"It's not going to blow up in my face," she said and went back to scrunching the animal's ears between her hands and making kissy faces at it. The little fucker was just soaking it up too.

"Oh, really? And when are you planning on getting this dog out of here?"

She shrugged. "I was thinking I'd take him over on New Year's. Friday."

"Hmm …," Jay nodded. "And are you planning on telling Voight he's now a pet owner before you make that special delivery?"

She gave him another unimpressed look. "He'll be fine."

"Or maybe he'll go ballistic," Jay put back to her.

She shrugged. "I've done things he's hated a lot more than bringing home a dog. Besides," she said, talking more to the puppy – getting right in its face – than to him, "Hank can't be mad on New Year's. Can he? No. Popa Hank likes 'calm' holidays. Doesn't he? Yep. He does."

"Hmmm …" Jay allowed and watched her play with the dog. "Good plan. You got it all figured out."

She just cast him a smart-ass smile. She was clearly self-assured in the matter that even if she pissed off Voight in the process, she was going to get the outcome she wanted. And why the fuck wouldn't she be self-assured about it? It was pretty clear that she had Voight wrapped around her little finger far more than anyone who had balls. Even when she was pissing him off, she got away with way more than anyone else at work. And Jay definitely got she was treated as the daughter and the girl on the home front too. She didn't get barked at quite as much – or in quite the same way – as he saw Voight bark at his sons.

So, he supposed there wasn't much point in arguing the matter any further with her. Especially at that time of night. It wasn't even night anymore. It was the morning. Again. And they were still awake. They didn't even have good reason to be awake. Beyond that the puppy whining and wanting to be feed constantly. It might as well be them who had a fucking infant in their lives that night.

Rescuing an abandoned puppy that wasn't even at the weaned stage yet? What the fuck was Erin thinking?

But it'd given them time to talk – and maybe fool around a little – between the damn dog's food demands.

"Can you get him the next bottle?" she put to Jay.

He raised an eyebrow at her. He so didn't want to be involved in this in anyway – yet here he was. Her coconspirator. Apparently for life since he'd gone and put a ring on it. She apparently didn't like his reaction and cast him those 'don't get stupid on me' eyes.

It likely wasn't just Voight she had wrapped around her little finger.

Jay sighed and throw back the covers, trudging into her kitchen and worked at getting the tiny little puppy bottle with the special formula for the thing ready.

"It's good," she called back from the bedroom, "to not give him to Ethan until Friday. I can take him over to the vet tomorrow and get him checked out. Get some advice on how to get him weaned."

Jay snorted at that and carried the bottle back into the bedroom, handing it to her as she drew the puppy into her lap. The thing was already searching for the nipple and she was working at getting him to calm down and take the thing. The little guy was suckling like they'd been starving him.

Fucking Google said they should be able to get away with it not feeding from 11-6, if it'd been fed six times during the day. Looks like Platt hadn't been keeping up with their feeding schedule. You know with the whole – her having an actual job to do thing. Either that or this guy was a fucking glutton. Also possible.

"Yea, well, you better figure out how to get it weaned because I sure as fuck don't see Voight bottle feeding a dog multiple times a night," Jay muttered, as he made his way back around the bed.

"Hank would," she said.

Jay gave her a look of disbelief. But the thing was he did kinda believe it. Voight wouldn't just let a tiny little living thing die or sit in a box and cry all night. Especially if it was his kid's dog. If Voight had a soft spot for Erin – he had an even more obvious one for Eth. And he seemed to have a bit of a soft spot for babies too. Or at least his grandkid. Maybe that would spill over to the dog? Erin had better fucking hope.

He just moved back around to the side of the bed he'd claimed, though, without comment. He felt Erin tracking his movements and cast her a look. She gave him a teasing smile.

"You look pretty good in that underwear," she teased, cocking a single eyebrow at him. He allowed her an amused look as he got back into bed. "They live up to their claim?"

"What claim's that?" he muttered, reaching to stroke at the little dog, but she batted his hand away so he wouldn't disturb it while it was eating.

"That they're life changing underwear," she said.

He snorted some amusement at that. "Ah, well, I never really thought I'd be up a 3 a.m. sitting in bed with my fiancé to hand feed a puppy about every two hours while wearing briefs given to me in front of my boss. Does that count as life changing?"

She gave him a little smile and curled an index finger over the top of the dog's little skull, scratching gently at it while it just kept on suckling. "He's pretty cute, Jay," she gave him another look. "You are too in the briefs."

He rolled his eyes. "I strive to be 'cute' in my underwear. Look I go for."

"You pull it off," she muttered.

He watched her for a moment. Switch out the puppy for a kid and would this still be them in a year or two? Up at an ungodly hour – every couple hours – dealing with a whining and whimpering infant? He be able to handle that if it still involved them busting each other's balls and being sarcastic asses to each other. Hopefully she'd still look this sexy in her underwear and a tank too. Though, it'd likely be a different kind of sexy. Motherly sexy – which seemed a little off when you put it that way. But he'd already seen her to the mothering thing with Eth. He'd already learned it was really fucking endearing. Totally not a deal breaker. It'd really only ended up making him want to get this to work – to keep her in his life – more.

"So finish what you were saying," Erin mumbled.

He snapped out of his thoughts for a moment and gazed at her. "What? About you being crazy with this dog thing? That's pretty much covered."

She shot him a thin smile. "You were saying something about Eth before the puppy started crying."

"Oh," he said, settling back onto the pillow and really gazing at her doing the feeding. "That he definitely is going to be looking up 'fuck buddies' online. He wasn't letting it drop."

Erin just shrugged. "Let him."

Jay sighed a bit and rested his hands behind his head. "Yea, but I don't like him thinking of our relationship that way."

"Who cares?" Erin said, casting him a little look.

"I do," Jay stressed again. "We were never fuck buddies. We waited. You made me work for it. We respected each other. We're in a relationship. We're engaged."

She let out a little sigh. "So, you told him we weren't. I'll tell him we aren't."

"I just don't like him having that idea in his head," Jay said.

"You mean you don't like that Justin put that idea in his head," Erin said, really catching his eyes that time.

"Yea," Jay agreed and pushed himself up to sit a bit straighter. "I don't. But it's about respect too. Between me and Eth. I don't want him looking at me that way. I need to have an understanding with him. A level of trust."

Erin eyed him. "I'll talk to him. But it's just … he's just trying to understand. I don't think he's judging. Yet. He's never really seen a relationship before."

Jay squinted at her. "Sure he has."

She gave him back a look. "What? Justin and Olive? You mean the girl he knocked up and then ended up marrying? That's not exactly a relationship he watched evolve or had any sort of relationship with Olive before she's suddenly birthing his nephew and wearing a ring."

"His parents," Jay put to her flatly.

Erin shrugged. "He was little, Jay. And his head. He only remembers so much. And it's not like Hank has women around now."

The puppy seemed to be almost done its bottle and Erin shifted it away, the dog nipping at it like it still wanted more. But she set it out of its reach and patted at its back – because Google said you were supposed to burp the damn things too. Hopefully it'd just calm and go back to sleep so they could sleep a bit too. Not that he minded too much being up and down. He was a light sleeper anyways. And it was sort of nice to just fill space together. To just enjoy each other's company. He supposed they'd spent enough time doing it that they were pretty good at it. And it felt good too – really good.

"You think Voight will ever marry again?" Jay asked.

Erin stared at the puppy and shook her head. "No," she said quietly.

"Date?" Jay asked.

She let out a little sigh and gave him a sad look. "Probably not any time soon. He's not ready. He misses her too much."

Jay gave a little nod at that. That was kind of obvious. Not at work. But spending time at the Voight house – it was clear. And at Christmas? There'd been lots of little moments it was clear. The guy was obviously super committed to his wife. Likely meant that he was still in love.

Jay got it. In his own way. He couldn't get over Erin when they'd taken breaks. Or even when she ripped his heart out. But the only example he'd seen of how any of this works was his dad – who'd found a new woman before his mom was even gone. Unfortunately he met a lot of guys like that in the Forces too with the wife or girlfriend or baby mama back home running around on them while they were away. Sometimes it seemed like most people really sucked. He hoped he and Erin wouldn't ever become one of them. That what they had was real. And that even if something happened and they did drift apart, that they had enough respect for each other that they did it in a way that didn't so utterly disrespect the other person.

"He'd likely be easier to work for if he was getting laid on a semi-regular basis," Jay teased her – because he really didn't want to think about what he had been thinking about. But as soon as that came out of his mouth, he realized he didn't much want to be thinking about that either.

His face must've said as much because Erin allowed him a thin smile. "Maybe the pent up aggression actually makes him better at the job," she provided.

"Might actually explain a lot about the facial adjustments some of the guys coming out of the cage have," Jay said.

She snorted and adjusted the puppy in her lap. It looked like it was settling. Finally. "They usually deserve it," she muttered. Jay allowed her a little smile at that and she cast him a look. "I worry about him—"

"I know," Jay said flatly.

She smiled thinly. "He's married to the job. But in a decade – when they're showing him the door?" She shrugged. "He's a decent human being. He shouldn't have to be alone. Camille wouldn't have wanted that for him."

"He's not alone," Jay said. "He's got you guys. He's got one grandkid. He'll likely have more. He's got friends and connections in the city."

"We both know that's not the same as having someone to love and support you through even the nastiest stuff about you. To pull you out of holes you're digging," she said, finding his eyes.

He leaned forward and brushed her hair behind her hair and stroked her cheek for a moment before placing a kiss on her forehead and then lowering his mouth until he found hers. They kissed – gently, sensually.

"I love you," he told her as they broke, looking into her eyes.

She gave him a thin smile. "Love you too," she allowed but looked back down to the puppy. He'd fallen asleep in her lap and she stroked at his little body some more.

"What you think Eth is going to name him?" Jay asked, his hand joining hers in the gently pets the little thing was receiving.

She shrugged. "He's not very good at names."

"Mmm …" Jay allowed. "So Erin the Third?"

She gave him a smile and shook her head. "I was thinking more like 'dog'."

"That's a good one," he nodded. "I could see Voight getting onboard with that one."

She smiled a bit wider and struggled to keep in a laugh.

"What do you want to name him?" Jay asked instead.

"I don't know," she said. "I'm not that good at names either."

Jay nodded again. "And since Hank Jr. is already taken, you're going to have to come up with something better for our first born. I'm really heartbroken about that."

She gave him a gentle push. "I'd never name my child 'Hank'. It's an awful name."

"Mmm … I'll be sure to pass that along to Voight," Jay said.

"He knows," she said. "You think he likes it?"

"He doesn't strike me as the kind of person who spends a lot of time thinking on those kinds of things," Jay said flatly.

"You'd be surprised," Erin muttered. "And, besides, a puppy isn't our first born."

"True," Jay acknowledged. "Though I do think he could end up bearing a striking resemblance to Voight by the time he's grown."

"Don't be mean," Erin said.

"To the dog?" Jay teased. She gave him a little slap. "What? They say people end up looking like their dog."

Erin just rolled her eyes and went back to gazing at the sleeping baby. But her phone suddenly rang and they all jumped just slightly – including the sleeping puppy, who yawned and looked up at them. She handed the dog to Jay and leaned over to grab her phone off her nightstand, casting him a look.

"It's Hank," she muttered.

Jay let out a little sigh. A call at that time of morning either meant something was wrong with Eth or that they were getting called into a crime scene. Neither was really a scenario he felt like entertaining that morning. But he instead focused his energy on trying to lull the puppy back to sleep while he eavesdropped on Erin's side of the conservation.

"Hank?" she put into the phone and then listened and let out a long sigh, casting him a look and shaking her head – pretty much confirming it was Ethan and not work related. "So you're going in?" she asked finally. "Do you want me to come over?" She sighed again and Jay could hear the edge of frustration to it. "OK …" she acknowledged. "OK, but if anything changes … Yeah. … OK. If you need me to pick up anything at the house … Sure. … Yeah. …" Another long sigh. "OK. I'll come by before work. … OK. Thanks. …"

She put the phone in her lap and stared at him. "Fever, wheezing, night sweat and blood in the urine," she muttered.

"Taking him to Chicago Med?" Jay put as a question even though it was stating the obvious. "Will's on tonight. I think."

She nodded and rubbed at her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair. "Apparently Justin gave him a bunch of junk food at the theater. And if that wasn't enough, he had them put butter on the popcorn and Ethan and dairy anymore …"

Jay rolled his eyes and shook his head as he felt some anger flood to his chest. "He can be such a fucking asshole."

Erin let out a slow sigh. "They're leaving today. Hank asked them to be gone before him and Ethan get home from the hospital. He sounded … worked up."

"Yea, I guess so," Jay muttered.

Erin reached and carefully took the sleeping puppy from his hands, carrying it back to its cardboard nest.

"So are you going to head over?" he asked as she got it settled.

"No," she shook her head. "He's right. It's not an emergency. They're going to get dicked around for hours. Try to get a couple hours sleep and then I'll stop in on the way to work."

"You aren't going to sleep," Jay put to her bluntly.

She sighed and shrugged, crawling back into bed next to him. "I can try," she said.

He thought it was a little pointless but he didn't protest. Because it seemed like trying involved her curling up next to him and resting her head on his shoulder. That it included him getting the opportunity to try to give some calmness and comfort to her – and if that's the most he could offer to her that night – he'd do it. It was something. And it was a hand to keep her from falling into a hole. Because poor fucking Eth was down a dark one no matter how far any of them kept leaning in to try to pull him out. Poor kid.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: OK, the 'don't make him too sick this time' have one out. There won't be much at the hospital in the next chapter and then we'll see about giving Ethan a decent remainder of his holiday.**


	18. Mirror, Mirror

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Hank moved his eyes from his sleeping son to the door to the room they had them sitting in as he heard Erin shuffle inside. He saw the look she was giving him and he shifted a bit in his seat, sitting up straighter, as she came over and handed him a coffee.

"Thanks," he muttered.

She kept eyeing him. "Heard our family is donating a bathroom mirror to the hospital," she put to him flatly.

He sighed and sunk back down in the seat a bit, working on pulling the tab on his coffee lid to take a sip and shifting his eyes back to Magoo.

"How's your hand?" she asked instead.

He glanced at the bandages around his battered and stitched knuckles and gave a shrug. "It will be fine," he said.

She just shook her head and sat down in the chair next to him, putting her cup of coffee on the floor and rooting through a brown bag with grease stains on it.

"Egg and sausage or ham and egger?" she asked him.

He gazed at her. "No bacon," he said sarcastically.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Ethan hates bacon."

"You've only got two," Hank said, gesturing absently at the sleeping kid.

But Erin shook her head and pulled out a third. "Avocado and egg whites," she said. "Didn't think you'd be interested."

He eyed her. "You trying to fit into the wedding dress already?"

"Funny," she said, plopping the greasy bag into his lap and starting to unwrap her breakfast of choice.

Hank just picked up the bag and put it on the floor next to him, ignoring the breakfast options. Her eyes followed it.

"Hank, eat," she sighed at him. He just shook his head and she bent and put the bag back on his lap. "I got the ham for you. Eat. You're all about breakfast. 'Most important meal of the day.'"

He looked at her but her eyes were just telling him off and he just didn't feel like fighting with anymore of his kids, so he took the breakfast sandwich out of the bag and peeled off the wrapper, taking a bite. They both just ate for a bit – staring at Ethan's too small, unmoving form.

Hank still found seeing him that way so disconcerting. His little boy was supposed to be this active, bundle of life. Solid. Bulky. Everyone told him as much as E looked like his mother in facial features – he had his build. Only that seemed more and more like past tense. Ethan just seemed like this emancipated little sack of bones anymore.

"How long has he been out?" Erin asked casually – breaking the silence.

"A while," Hank muttered, staring at the sandwich's insides. The egg was runny. He didn't like that. "He's sedated."

Erin cast him a look. "Why?" she asked with some concern.

"They're going to do some sort of imaging on him that inflates and than voids his bladder. It's uncomfortable. They're going to have to put a catheter in again to do it. They decided putting him out would be easier for him."

Erin gazed at him and her eyes shifted back to her sleeping brother. "Why are they doing that?"

"Think the urinary tract infection might be all the way up to his kidneys. It will help them get a better idea of how things are moving through his system," he said and took another bite of the sandwich. It was likely from one of the awful places near the hospital. Apparently people working at the hospital and visiting people in the hospital didn't favor eating decent food. Anything within an easy radius didn't met Voight's definition of food. He'd had better luck in the hospital's cafeteria when he actually felt like eating while stuck in the place – which really wasn't often. Right now he was just appeasing his daughter.

"Is that why he's got the oxygen too?" Erin asked of the full mask that was over Ethan's nose and mouth, pumping air into his tired lungs.

Hank shook his head. "Pneumonia," he said and gestured at the door. "The doc can show you. Did a chest x-ray. It's in both lungs. You can just see the little pockets of fluid."

"Jesus," Erin said and stared near heartbroken at her baby brother. "And … that's not because of whatever Justin gave him? Is it?"

Hank sighed and shrugged. "They don't know. Maybe I shouldn't have let him have the chocolate and cookies on Christmas. His mom's cake. Maybe I shouldn't have had him out skating or to the game. Just let him rest."

"Hank …" Erin sighed at him and gave him said eyes.

Voight rubbed his greasy hands on a napkin, putting down the awful mess of a bagel and staring into his coffee instead.

"They said the kidney infection likely opened him up to the pneumonia. Bacteria migrating from one part of his body to another," he said flatly.

"And the kidney infection is from the catheter?" Erin asked.

He gave a little nod. "Likely," he conceded. "But problems with the kidneys, the bladder, urination … it's just part of all of this."

Erin frowned. "They put him on antibiotics for the UTI," she argued.

Hank just sighed and gestured at the IV attached to his son. "They're getting some heavier duty stuff into him now. Said all the steroids they've had to pump into him and his body crashing with the taper in coming off them might have contributed too. Or it could just be … he's run down. He wasn't as strong as we thought when we got him out of the hospital … so boomerang. We're back again."

"So they're admitting him?" Erin gaped at him.

Voight pushed out a breath. "They haven't decided yet. Going to see how this kidney test looks and if after they get the antibiotics in him, if the fever breaks."

"We just can't win," Erin muttered, staring at her brother. "Poor Eth can't win."

"Yea, sure can't," Voight allowed. That was the truth of it.

Erin sided him sideways. "That why you're buying a mirror?"

Voight just allowed a grunt. What was he supposed to say?

He was at the point he was beyond frustrated. His youngest had been through enough. Too fucking much for a boy his age. And then he's got doctors standing there telling him that they're now at another hurdle.

And, sure. He'd remained composed. He'd listened. He'd talked down his son's emotions about it all. And then he'd excused himself and his emotions had gotten the best of him. They'd just bubbled over in a way he didn't usually let happen in a public setting scenario. At least he was in the privacy of the bathroom.

Or at least it had been private until his fist impacted with the mirror and the glass had shattered to the ground. And the shards that didn't caught in his knuckles. One deep enough that he'd needed stitches.

Small bonus to working with Will Halstead's brother. A check had gotten written. He'd talked down security and administration into turning this into some sort of incident that it wasn't. His hand got stitched up and bandaged. And that was it. They didn't need to talk about it anymore.

They just needed to forget it happened. And Hank would make sure it didn't happen again. The next time he needed to punch something, he'd save it for some perp at work.

Unfortunately, fucking Dr. Charles had ended up in there trying to head shrink him about it and now Erin was at him too. It likely wasn't going to drop as easily as he'd like. But fucking punching the mirror was better than him punching hi oldest son that morning and any of the doctors poking at his son in the E.D. Only a matter of time before the younger Halstead – his future son-in-law apparently – heard about it too and gave him sideways looks not that dissimilar to what Erin was casting his way now.

"Look," he said, "I'm gonna need you to sit with him tonight if they're keeping him here. Or watch him if we get the fuck out of here today."

He saw the look she was giving him. There was reluctant. Some protest. He found himself wanting to snap at her. To tell her he wasn't asking – he was telling. But he forced himself to calm. Reminded himself Erin wasn't the babysitter. She was E's sister. His daughter. And an adult woman with a job and a life. She'd done a whole hell of a lot for him and E since June. Even before. But she'd really stepped up and then some since E arrived back home. And she'd just gone through their two weeks of hospital bedside vigil too. He couldn't fault her in wanting to be somewhere else. Of having other plans. Couldn't bark at her.

She wasn't the one he was frustrated with. She'd done her share. More than her share. He was just at the point that he was so fucking spent too. On more levels than he'd been spent in in a long, long time.

"You got plans?" he asked of her hesitance to respond.

She cocked her head at him and gave him this look. Halstead? They needed to be all starry-eyed with each other in this pre-honeymoon phase? That what he was going to be dealing with for the next God-knows how many months until they really tied the knot?

"Look, Erin," he tried to say a little more congenially. "I've gotta go in and burn the midnight oil. Get everything all sorted with the year-end paper work so the Ivory Tower can crawl out of my ass. I'll get the bullshit all in a row. Look to get everyone cleared out of there early tomorrow and then if they've let me take your brother home, me and him, we're just going to rest up good. You don't have to come keep us company. Go do whatever it is you and Halstead plan do to ring in the new year."

She let out a little noise but nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Yea, it's fine. Of course I'll sit with Eth."

Hank measured her reaction. "You got something goin' on?" he asked again.

"No," she said with a headshake but shrugged. "It's OK. I'll take care of it. Get it squared away at work."

"It's not Bunny?" he said with an edge to his voice.

Her eyes found his. "No," she said firmly.

He gave he a nod. "I know she didn't call on Christmas or that you might be thinking that you want to go bring her into the loop on this engagement thing—"

"I don't," Erin pressed.

"Do not let her weasel back into your life, Erin," he said sternly, giving her warning eyes. "Not right now. She's gonna come up with all kinds of reasons to 'celebrate' and her kind of celebrating ain't anything you need in your life or that I need around my boy's."

"I know, Hank," she hissed at him with clear annoyance. "And I know the deal."

"Sometimes you need reminders," he said, shifting his eyes back to his boy. He could feel Erin fuming next to him so he cast her another look, reaching and giving her hand a small squeeze where it was sitting. She looked down at it. "I trust you," he told her. "And reminders I give you – things I tell you – it's cuz I love you."

She allowed him a thin smile but went to staring at her half-eaten breakfast sandwich.

"I appreciate you keeping him company too," Hank tried. "I don't like him being alone."

"Me neither," Erin managed.

Thing was even though they were there with him, sometimes Voight wonder how much comfort that was for Ethan in the long run. He was still going through this alone in more ways than one – no matter what kind of support they gave him.

And that thought just made him want to break another mirror. And some faces. Possibly his own for whatever role he'd played in all of this and how it had befallen his boy too.

Almost New Year's. Had to be better than this one. Right?

 **AUTHOR NOTE: I've got a O/S (scene) idea for Hank and Camille likely set the night before her accident/death. Any thoughts on if you'd like it written/posted now or just keep plugging away at this one? Any thoughts or ideas on Hank and Ethan chill out time over the New Year's weekend, let me know. Imagine that Erin and Jay won't completely listen to not needing to be around either.**


	19. Complicated

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

"Ethan, you need to stop," Erin said sternly, casting a look over her shoulder at her baby brother as she dug her condo keys out of her pocket.

He wasn't even looking at her in his whining. He was fiddling with the crunching jaw of his dinosaur that had got toted with him to the hospital on the fear he was going to be stuck there for multiple days and apparently going multiple days without having Indominus Erin in his possession was too much to handle.

"I don't want to sleep here," he moaned at her again. "I want OUR TV and MY BED!" he lamented. "And the Xbox!"

She knew he was tired and he wasn't feeling well. That he'd just been put through a long; a significantly less than stellar day where he was poked and prodded and carted around to various imagining and testing for hours on end. But she was getting a little tired of listening to the whining he'd been directing at her since he'd been released from the hospital and she told him that they needed to stop at her condo before she took him home.

Really, Hank had told her that he thought it might be best if he did get released that they stay at her condo that night. That way he could have a TV, bed and bathroom all on one floor – especially with any bathroom urgency or leakage he had going on after everything they'd put his poor bladder, kidneys, urinary tract, uretha and penis through that day. And it wasn't like he was fast moving on his crutches if he was watching TV and needed to get up to the bathroom at Hank's. But Ethan was having none of it. He just wanted to go home – NOW.

"We aren't sleeping here," Erin said again as she started working on jiggling the stubborn lock open. "I just need to pick up something."

She could already hear that something through the door – whining and crying about as much as her baby brother. But apparently he couldn't hear it over his own whines.

Of course this happens in the midst of her having the puppy there. With all this going on she hadn't had the opportunity to take the puppy to the vet yet. The poor thing had only been feed three times that day so far too. Once in the morning and then her and Jay had split up their lunch breaks and both spent them going back and forth to her place to feed and check on the little thing. And now she was likely going to have to figure out a way to tell Hank that night that he was getting a dog. She'd been hoping to put it off a couple days.

Life never seemed to work out as planned.

"You keep clothes at the house," Ethan whinged at her again.

"I'm not getting clothes," she muttered, as she held the door open for him.

He expertly tucked his dinosaur under his arm and worked at navigating himself inside, giving her a dirty look as he walked passed her. "You better not be getting condoms. You and Jay already contaminated my room and it's disgusting."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Ethan, I'd really appreciate if you stopped taking such an interest in my sex life."

"Then maybe you shoulda let me wait in the car," Ethan said bluntly, navigating to her kitchen and opening the fridge door and staring in. She hadn't called the condo much of a home for weeks. There'd be almost nothing in it and she didn't really want to think about the state of what was in there.

"You have pneomnia. You aren't waiting in the car," she said and reached to close the door. "You said you weren't hungry. Are you now?"

He just gave her puppy dog eyes. He'd refused to eat all day. But he always refused to eat when he was hooked up to IVs. She'd asked on the drive over if he wanted her to stop somewhere but he'd just stared out the window and hadn't responded. He was in a bit of a snit about the whole day. She didn't entirely blame him. But it was what it was and now it was time to just cope. He was getting to go home – that was the important part.

"We can order out," she said. "Or we can stop and get something on the way home. Roisterie chicken?"

He gave he a small glare. "It better not make me sick!" he said with far too much accusation.

"It won't make you sick," she mumbled at him. She really wanted to get the puppy fed so they could leave. She was trying to work out how to do that. Just start reading the bottle and see how Ethan reacted or send him into the bedroom to find the puppy himself or wait for him to clue in that there was whimpering in her apartment that wasn't coming from him.

"What Justin gave me made me sick," Ethan contended.

She sighed at him. "They don't know that," she said. "It could've been all kinds of things."

"No," Ethan shook his head. "It's because he gave me pop and my brain doesn't kow how to swallow right anymore and I aspirated on it."

"Do you even know what that means?" she muttered at him, getting the powder to mix up the feeding formula for the little dog and starting to clump it into a glass to whisk and whisk to get all the lumps up. The dog was as fussy as Ethan – a lump and he wouldn't finish the bottle. Not to mention it just clogged up the whole bottle anyways. Ethan barely seemed to notice she was doing it – or he thought she was just preparing him some kind of protein shake or meal replacement beverage he'd refuse to drink. He wasn't seeing the little puppies on the container with the powder.

"It means I've got fluid in my lungs," he said matter-of-factly.

Erin nodded as she started with her whisking. "It does. From pneumonia, which the doctor said could've been from a bunch of things. Maybe even just from all that time you had to spend in the hospital, Ethan. Or maybe even from the treats your dad let you have on Christmas."

Hank was really, really beating himself up about that. Badly. He'd do the quiet self-loathing thing again – where he took on more blame than was necessary about any of this. Ever. He always did that when he came to his kids. Die in the dirt fighting for his kids and trying to fix "his mistakes" that usually weren't his to fix. And he'd spent five – five and a half, almost six – years dealing with the self-loathing and guilt about Ethan's condition. It'd calmed a bit with the distraction of Intelligence but she'd seen the shift in him since Ethan getting diagnosis with pediatric M.S. and it being linked back to his original brain trauma. And a part of Hank was always going to blame himself for what happened to Ethan that night and the death of his wife. It didn't matter that logically – it was beyond clear – that it wasn't his fault. He hadn't pulled the trigger. He hadn't driven the car. He hadn't tinkered with the brakes. And he hadn't been the one who'd ordered the hit. But he was the cop who interacted with some of the scum of the city – and he'd let them find out not just who he was, but who his family was and how to get to them. He'd never entirely forgive himself. Ever.

So right now the guilt was centered on the few cookies Ethan had been allowed to have and the couple chocolates he'd eaten and the sliver of gingerbread cake and caramel sauce Eth had gotten for dessert on Christmas dinner. They'd been gluten free. There'd been a lot of dairy and sugar substitutes – margarine and honey and molasses. Dark chocolate instead of milk chocolate. But that was still sugar when you got down to it. And Hank felt like he shouldn't have let Eth have the treats.

Erin didn't think he should be so hard on himself. Justin had fucked up in giving him goodies much more overtly against his dietary restrictions. She'd let him have corn flour tortillas the other day even though they were supposed to be careful about starchy vegetables. And they'd all played a role in taking Ethan skating and to the Blackhawks game. And they were both activities Ethan wanted to participate in – and they'd gone to great lengths to keep him warm. Hell, there was one point at the hockey rink that Erin had Ethan's feet pulled out of his skates and clasped between her hands to help warm them up before they put his boots back on.

Worse was that now Hank had said that he wasn't going to do up the nachos and fajitas for Ethan tomorrow night. Eth was going to be pretty heartbroken to not get his traditional New Year's Eve Mexican Fiesta. As much as it was a fiesta with him and Hank sitting around, loading up a tray full of nachos to put in the oven and then stuff their faces watching shitty boy movies. Not even shitty boy movies – shitty Hank movies. Though, she supposed that Hank had said Ethan got to pick that year. Not that that necessarily meant there was going to be any sort of improvement on the entertainment front. But Hank didn't want to be giving him more corn and starch until he rebounded from this. And the doctors were saying that pneumonia – even though the fever had broken and it seemed like the antibiotics were already kicking in well and he'd start to bounce a bit in the next 24 hours – given the state of his body, his disease and his already battered condition, he was likely going to feel it and be a little sluggish for at least two or three weeks. Maybe even longer.

So Hank was set on trying to figure out something else to have for tomorrow night. He'd likely just be best ordering out. But he wasn't big on that either. And, really, Ethan only ever had so much of an appetite when he was any kind of antibiotics. Still, he was a kid. He'd want some sort of treat at home on New Year's Eve. She was trying to come up with a brainwave to suggest to Hank – or pick up herself – but she was drawing a blank. Eth had so many dietary restrictions at this point – combined with his own finickiest – that it was hard to feed him. Hank had said he might just do the roast that night rather than New Year's Day. She wasn't sure how impressed Eth would be with that, though, either. Not exactly "party" food. Though, it wasn't exactly like their plans sounded anything like a party anyways.

And the whole stress factor Hank was having about any of it was just stupid. Because, realistically, she really doubted that the Christmas slip ups were even the cause of this latest health adventures. The explanations of him being exposed to crap during his hospital stay while having a rundown and immune compromised body that was coming off steroids made a lot more sense. So did the movement of bacteria from the UTI. It's kind of how his body dealt with things anymore. Anything invaded and his whole body just seemed to be bombarded to the point everything was attacking each other and shutting down.

That made a lot more sense than him getting a couple Christmas treats or Justin trying to make one of his points while ultimately being a complete asshole to his dad – and his brother. And then no one needed to blame themselves. Except maybe Justin – since his actions were clearly directed at being a jerk.

"No, it was Justin," Ethan contended, though. "He was being mean."

She gave him a look. She didn't know how to argue with that. They all knew that Justin had been an asshole yesterday afternoon. There wasn't much point in rehashing it. They were only going to reach the same conclusion – over and over again.

"Well, if you really think it's from the pop, Eth, you are twelve – not a baby. You know you aren't supposed to be drinking pop or juice right now. And you drank it."

"BUT IT WAS SO GOOD!" Ethan argued.

She shrugged. "So maybe Justin wasn't being as much of an asshole as you think," she said. "And maybe he's not the only one to blame."

He gave her a dirty look and stomped his dinosaur on her kitchen counter, adjusting it so it was roaring at her and pulling back its rib cage to put it in the mode so it looked like it'd just survived an attack. It seemed to be his favorite positioning for the thing. And he seemed to be making some sort of statement with it in that moment.

"I'm not drinking that," he said disgustedly and gestured at her mixed up gop.

"It's not for you," she provided.

He scrunched his nose at her. "We came ALL THE WAY here so you could have one of your nasty shakes?" She just shrugged and Ethan huffed at her, slouching against the counter. "Is Jay coming over tonight?"

She shrugged again. "Don't know. He's still at work. Your dad isn't letting anyone leave until they're done their paperwork."

"He let you leave," Ethan said.

"He let me leave so I could come and sit with you and he could go to work and get this stuff done," she said. "AND," she added, "I'm done my paperwork."

"Why's not Jay?"

"Because he doesn't like paperwork and procrastinated," she said flatly. Ethan let out a little sigh and she eyed him. "What you need to see Jay for anyway?"

"Justin's gone so now we can play the game without him saying stupid things," Ethan provided.

"Mmm," Erin allowed.

Justin had been a royal ass about Ethan's Lego videogame. The entire commentary was about how stupid it was and when he wasn't talking about how stupid it was, he was talking about how stupid it was to buy a videogame for a system that was being phased out. How the money should've been put toward getting a system that will actually still exist in six month's time.

He was so fucking ridiculous. He knew how Hank was about videogames. He hated them. Ethan was lucky to have the game system in the house at all. Hank wouldn't be buying him any of these third-person shooter things. It just wouldn't happen. If Ethan did save up enough to buy a new system and Hank let him continue to have one in the house, as he hit his teens and really fought to play all the gun-type videogames there would be battle of the wills – and Hank would win. Unquestionably.

Lego Jurassic Park was a good compromise. Ethan loved Lego but couldn't handle it with his tremors right now. He loved Jurassic Park. So he could play the game. Erin actually thought the game was pretty amusing from what she did see of him playing it and when she'd joined him for a while as the second character on the screen. It was good too. He had to do some reading and problem solving and eye-hand co-ordination and fine motor skills even with his shakes.

That's why Hank got the fucking game. It wasn't rocket science to figure any of that out.

And as for the commentary about the game system? He was likely just trying to be obnoxious to Jay. He knew that Jay had "lent" the system to Ethan. He was trying to make it all "how dare he give my brother something that's dated". Thing was that Ethan didn't care. He was just happy to have one I the house and be allowed to play. And having something like that given his condition and how it had impacted his abilities to get out and play and socialize with other kids – was important. At least he had something to do – even if it was just videogames. And Jay had helped facilitate that. What the fuck had Justin done?

"And since Dad is working maybe you and Jay can help me pick a game with the Points card. Since Dad's not home to say which ones aren't allowed," Ethan suggested enthusiastically.

Erin cast him a look. "You know which ones aren't allowed," she put to him. "And, I'll be sure to remind you. Because you want to get to keep the console, don't you?" Ethan let out another huff. "Besides, I think you're pretty tired. A movie night and early sleep sounds like a better plan."

"So you and Jay can fuck buddy?"

She gave him a glance as she went to the cupboard to retrieve one of the bottles – purposely not reacting in any sort of aversion to him saying that, even though that was pretty much her reaction.

"You aren't using that phrase right either, Eth," she provided flatly.

He squinted at her as she got out one of the little bottles and started pouring the substance she'd mixed up into it. But at that point – without the nipple – it just looked like a super small sports drink bottle.

"What's it mean?" he asked her.

She shrugged. "Didn't you already ask Jay?"

"He just said it wasn't important but that you guys aren't," Ethan said, eyeing her firmly.

She nodded. "We aren't," she agreed.

"But what's it mean?" he pressed.

She sighed and put her elbows on the counter getting more down on his level and eyed him directly. "A fuck buddy is someone you're just friends with – you don't want to be in a relationship with them – but you have sex with them."

Ethan scrunched his whole face considering that. "So how are you and Jay not that?"

She snorted and shook her head. "Because we're in a relationship, Eth. We got engaged. We're going to get married."

"But you were friends before," he said. "You're still friends."

She let out a slow breath. "The big thing about a fuck buddy is that … it's just someone you have sex with, Ethan. There's not expectation or want for a relationship. That's how me and Jay are different. We care about each other. We want a relationship. A life together."

He again tried to process. "So did you used to be fuck buddies?"

She let that sit with her for a moment and weighed how to answer. She sort of felt like – to her – there was a point that they were. She was more resistant to the concept of a relationship than Jay. He wanted one sooner. She'd seen it. Known it. And it wasn't that she wasn't interested. It was just that she was so used to protecting herself. She was so used to keeping things casual. Keeping people at arm's length and than some. It was hard to do that with Jay.

But she also acknowledged that even though she cared about him, she'd probably treated it more like fuck buddies at the start than he had. He'd wanted to make it more real – to be upfront and honest about it … with themselves, with those around them, with Hank … from near the get go. It'd been her who'd been so hesitant. Letting other people know she could love and be loved – it just seemed like declaring a vulnerability to the world. She didn't like people seeing that in her.

"Ethan, sometimes relationships are really complicated," she said.

"So you were?" he pressed. "Because Justin says you guys are going to break up and likely never even going to get married because you're just fuck buddies."

She made an annoyed noise. That was typical Justin. He really hadn't given her much congratulations or feedback at all about her engagement. That was him, though. He was never very good at being happy for her or supportive of her. He took. When he needed someone to talk to before he talked to his dad – he talked to her. When he needed support in dealing with his dad – he called her. When shit came up, he was a lot more likely to call her first than calling his dad – especially if he thought it was something that was going to piss off his dad. In those moments, he was happy to treat her as his sister – his big sister. But in moments where she could use some support or at least a small acknowledgement or help dealing with Hank – Justin was only sporadically supportive. He was only there sometimes. He had had moments that year – since Ethan had been home and via telephone. But they weren't all inclusive. She couldn't exactly count on him. When good things came up in her life – or things to do with her relationship with Hank or with Ethan came up in a positive way – it all reverted back to her being the Golden Girl or him slagging on reminders about what a troubled kid she'd been when she first came to live with them. Tables turn. Things change. But sometimes it seemed like certain things about Justin would never change. He was still the pouty little boy that cowered behind his mother when she'd come home to the Voights' house fifteen years ago. Fifteen years – the majority of Justin's life, Ethan's whole life and then some – but she was still a second-class family member in Justin's mind. She had to assure herself at times that she wasn't in Hank's or Ethan's.

"Ethan," she said, adjusting her elbows to find his eyes more, "what me and Jay have is real. I can't predict the future but I know that me and Jay have fought for each other and worked for each other's love and respect before – and we'll keep doing that. That's why we aren't fuck buddies. We're a couple."

Ethan eyed her again. "Are you sure?"

"If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have put the ring on," she said.

"But you don't have it on," Ethan countered, gazing at her finger.

She glanced down at her hand. "Oh," she said awkwardly. "It's a little big so we need to get it resized. So I'm not wearing it to work yet. I don't want to lose it."

"How come I'm not allowed to tell people then?" he asked.

She let out a little sigh and examined the counter for a moment. The puppy could clearly hear that they were in the apartment at that point – and likely was starting to recognize the sound of its food being prepared. The little guy had likely crawled out of the box and was pawing at her bedroom door and whimpering even more feverishly but Ethan just seemed completely oblivious. She wasn't sure how he was missing it. But sometimes his hearing wasn't great anymore. Let alone his cognitive reasoning.

"Because it's something me and Jay want to tell them," she said.

"So why haven't you told him yet?"

She just shook her head. "That's complicated too," she provided.

"Like relationships?"

She allowed him a little smile. "Something like that."

"Why's loving someone so complicated?" he huffed.

She shrugged. "I don't know, Eth. But it is. Doesn't matter if it's your fiancé or your baby brother or your adopted dad or your shitty-ass mom. Love is complicated."

She reached and retrieved the nipple for the bottle and started to screw it on. Ethan watched her. His brow creasing from consideration at her comment to question.

"You drink your shake in a bottle?" he asked.

She gave him a little smile. "C'mon," she encouraged. "Let's take off our boots and jackets and stay for a bit. I want to show you something."

He sighed at her. "Erin, I just wanna go home. Can't you just drink your bottle in the car?"

She allowed a restrained laugh, the corners of her mouth tugging into a smile. She gestured over at her bedroom door.

"Listen," she instructed.

He gazed at her but quieted more than he had since he'd been from waking from his sedation period. His eyes set on her door in the opposite corner of the condo. Her could almost feel his efforts to strain his hearing.

"The cars on Lakeshore?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nope."

"The L?"

She smiled. "No," she stressed. "Listen to the sounds in here."

He didn't have to listen long. There was another whimper and scratching at her bedroom door – this time accompanied by a little yap. Ethan's eyes grew big and he looked at her in disbelief.

"Take off your boots," she instructed him firmly again.

He didn't even move to the door. He started kicking at his heels right there at the counter of her kitchen – jamming his crutch into the toe as he twisted his foot and struggled to get one and then the other out. He was off across her condo like a shot when he did free his feet and she followed more languidly behind – letting him have his moment.

He gave her a glance as he went to open the door. "Carefully," she told him.

His eyes got even bigger and even more hopefully and he opened it a crack – the puppies little snot appearing immediately and Ethan's mouth dropping open. He cast her another look and then pressed the door open a little further. The puppy bounded right into his ankle – sputtering and falling onto his hindquarters with the impact.

Ethan's mouth hung even wider and than he sunk to the ground in a near crash – his crutches spreading near spread eagle to either side as his wrists and forearms fumbled to free themselves from them.

"Erin," he sputtered, looking at her, as he pulled the puppy into his lap and the thing started licking immediately at his face and wagging his tail frantically. "It's HIM?" he asked, gaping at her. "It's HIM!"

She nodded and sat down next to him, stroking the puppy a little bit to try to calm him. The little guy was so excited they were home – and she'd brought Ethan with her – that she was sure it was about to pee all over Ethan. She was sure she was going to have more than her fair share of messes to clean up in her bedroom too considering he'd escaped the box she'd had him in. She wasn't surprised. She'd tried to escape too if she'd been locked in a room all alone all day.

"It's him," she agreed, gazing at her brother and the dog. Ethan looked so happy – a little smile playing across his face as he petted at the excited puppy.

"You're going to keep him?" he asked, giving her a cautious look.

She let out a little sound and shrugged. "He's yours," she said and Ethan's eyes grew wider. "But I haven't talked to your dad yet to see where he's going to live."

"BUT HE'S MINE?" Ethan asked, quiet tears starting to stream down his cheeks.

Erin reached and swiped them away for him, giving him a sympathetic smile and holding out the bottle for him to start the feeding. To continue the bonding between the boy and his dog.

"He's yours," she confirmed. "So where we going to sleep tonight?"

Ethan wasn't even looking at her anymore. His whole being seemed centered on the puppy but he managed to mumble, "Wherever he is. I love him already."

And she was pretty sure that was an accurate statement. It was love at first sight for the both of them.


	20. Whiskey Rules

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

"Shit," Jay swore quietly, as he heard the lock in the front door turn.

He cast a glance over his shoulder and then looked down at the puppy nestled between his knees and the back of the couch – sound asleep. For the moment. How long that lasted was going to be a different story – and even if it didn't wake right now, there was no way Erin was going to be able to hide it much longer now. Still, he reached and quickly unfolded the blanket draped over the back of the couch, placing it over top of the sleeping pup and then strategically over his legs to look like it had an actual reason for being there. And then he bounced the TV remote on his knee – trying to further hide the lump in the blankets and to look like he was just watching late night television. Really late night television.

"You don't listen," he heard Voight say before the guy had even gotten into the entranceway. But he'd been in the door enough to hear the TV going. He stopped as he did get into the entranceway to the front room, though, he had that unimpressed look that Jay wouldn't say was solely reservered for Erin but it seemed like it was on the lists of things see got handed a hell of a lot more than everyone else. The look shifted to a glare as he realized it was Jay who was in his house, in his front room, on his couch and watching his television. "Engagement means you're just occupying my house now," Voight said, giving him an even more unimpressed shrug.

Jay just looked at him for a minute, quickly trying to run through in his head how this could go. Any talking points he was going to have to get out before the guy tried to castrate him with his eyes more than he already did on a near daily basis.

"Yeah, I don't think Erin thought you were going to be here tonight," Jay provided flatly.

Voight just grunted at him and disappeared farther down the hallway – likely removing his coat and boots and the rest of his winter gear. Likely another sign he hadn't expected company – the guy was actually bearing a beanie. Jay didn't think he'd seen that in like three years of working with Voight now. Like he was fucking tougher than winter in the Windy City. Though, he did always have a scarf wrapped around his neck. Jay suspected it was likely a remnant from his wife – last gift or something - because he'd made some smart-ass comment about the scarf to Erin once and she'd warned him not to go there anywhere near Voight.

Jay heard Voight in the kitchen after that. Rattling around in the fridge and cupboards. But he appeared a minute later, holding a bottle.

"You still not drinking whiskey?" Voight asked, giving him a careful examination.

Jay eyed him. Really, he was sorta hoping that Voight would just go upstairs but if he was going to have to share space and seemingly a nightcap and some sort of small talk that hopefully just amounted to shop talk – he was definitely going to need a drink.

"Yea … I'll have one," Jay allowed.

Voight nodded and disappeared back into the kitchen for a moment to pour the drinks. Jay fiddled with the blanket again

"Good lesson," Voight rasped at him at slightly elevated levels considering the acoustics in the house and the time of night – or morning – it was. "You want a good marriage and a long career – sleep in your own bed and shower in your own house every chance you get. Coming home for an hour is better than not coming home at all."

He reappeared this time with two glasses in his hand. The "whiskey stones" things from Christmas Day rattling around the bottom of the glasses.

"Good advice," Jay commented drily.

He wasn't sure he entirely agreed on every level but he could see his point too. Wasn't the method that had existed in his house growing up, though, that was for sure. And it wasn't exactly like Voight had a marriage he was coming home to. And presumably he'd expected Erin and Ethan to be at her place that night and to get the place to himself. As much as he would get it to himself. He wouldn't get too long in the rack before it was time to start the day – and Voight was never late.

Voight held out a glass at him. Jay carefully leaned forward to take it, making sure to keep his hand over the puppy so the blanket didn't move. But Voight caught his eyes just as he got his fingers around the glass.

"You can stop suffocating the dog," Voight put to him flatly.

Jay's eyes widened slightly – defensively, a little surprised he'd been found out that quickly. The dog hadn't even made a sound yet. But his reaction must've just given him away even more.

"Next lesson," Voight said. "When you're doing you're job as a parent right, you know the shit your kids are going to pull before they do."

Jay almost had on the tip of his tongue to ask how that was working out for him. Justin wasn't exactly a shining of example of Voight having "done his job". But Voight gave him a look that made him bite his tongue.

"Erin's easy," he said simply and backed up to the one armchair, taking a seat and giving him firm eyes. "Her face when she's up to something she knows you'd disapprove of."

Jay looked away slightly at that. He knew it was true. Knew the exact face Voight was talking about. Erin was pretty far from a poker face with the people who knew her – even if she could bluff her way through an interrogation or an undercover assignment.

"And she was wandering away from her desk a whole lot yesterday," Voight added and Jay looked up. "She falls for Ethan's puppy dog face a whole lot easier than I do."

Jay let out a little sigh at that – because there was some truth to that too. Eth pretty much had Erin wrapped around his little finger. He'd seen her go off on him sometimes when she lost her patience or just decided he was being a bit of a dick – which did happen. Cute, injured, sick little boy act only went so far. Sometimes he was just a brat. A typically fucking preteen boy – as annoying and as moody as fuck some days. But she was just as likely to bend over backwards for him every chance she got. The puppy was a prime example of that.

"So let's see it," Voight said.

Jay let out a louder sigh and pulled back the blanket. The dog stirred a bit. His feet kicking and his eyes and ears twitching.

"I just want to make clear I had nothing to do with this," Jay said.

Voight nodded, eyeing him more than he was looking at the dog. "Says the guy sitting down here with the thing at 2 a.m.."

"It's not weaned yet," Jay said and Voight let out a snort and shook his head, rolling his eyes to gaze at the ceiling above him, which would likely just about be Erin's bedroom. "I was trying to let them get some sleep."

Voight grunted some acknowledgement and took a slow sip out of his drink, before putting it on the little table between the two armchairs and hauling himself up. He stepped back toward the couch and gazed down at the sleeping puppy.

"Gonna be big," Voight said and then looked Jay in the eye again. "Hope you been putting enough away to take out on a mortgage on a house with a good-sized yard for a mutt like that."

Jay made a small sound at that. He couldn't really tell if Voight was B. him or not. But he wouldn't exactly blame the guy for saying the dog wasn't coming into his house. Dogs were a lot of fucking work and Eth was enough fucking work as it was and even though Jay totally got that Eth would love the dog, he likely wasn't going to be that much help with some of the grunt work that came along with a dog.

Voight ignored his sound, though, and leaned to scoop up the dog. "Let's take a look at you," he muttered as he drew the puppy to his chest and went back to his seat.

Maybe it wasn't just people babies that Voight had a soft spot for because he settled the thing in his lap and the puppy didn't seem to think too much about it to cuddle down again and drift back to sleep. Voight sat there caressing and examining its ears and paws for a bit, before moving to scratching at his head and tugging at the tuff of is neck before giving it long strokes down the back.

"It got a name yet?" he asked, casting his eyes back toward Jay.

Jay gave a little shrug, his eyes still locked on the puppy. He'd been kind of memorized in watching Voight be kind to a living thing. He'd expected a lot more adverse reaction than what was happening. Though, he still wasn't really clear on who's puppy this technically was and where it'd be living.

"They were floating around lots of ideas," he said.

"Like?" Voight pressed with some annoyance.

"Ah …" Jay thought about it for a moment. "Ferdinand …"

"No," Voight put bluntly.

"Rex …?" Jay suggested.

Voight rolled his eyes. "Ethan …" he muttered.

"He suggested 'Bear' too," Jay said.

Voight just grunted at that one and looked back down at the dog. "She have him to the vet yet?"

"No," Jay allowed. "She was going to take him tonight but …"

Voight just made another sound of acknowledgement and reached to retrieve his drink again, taking another sip while he continued to treat the puppy like a lap dog. Guess he should likely enjoy it now, because it wasn't likely to last too long.

Jay sort of felt like maybe he should just treat the glass of whiskey like a shot and get out of there. Let Voight have his couch and television. And avoid him changing his mind about being levelheaded about the dog thing.

But instead he asked, "You get the year-end stuff done?" He figured it was polite to ask – especially since he was sitting in his home and drinking his whiskey. It wasn't like there was an easy point of escape without making this even more awkward.

"Yea," Voight grunted after nursing another sip out of his drink. "Should be able to let most of ya take off around lunch. Keep a skeleton crew on in case a call comes in."

Jay nodded. That was sort of good news. Though, he figured that Erin would likely be among those allowed to leave early but she'd be expected to watch Eth. Seemed to be how it worked and there wasn't much disputing that Eth needed some eyes on him these days with where he was at with the whole health thing.

"You two figure out what you're doing tomorrow night yet?" Voight put to him bluntly.

Jay thought it was a little too bluntly. Sometimes the guy rubbed him the wrong way but he was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. He knew he'd had a shitty day with Eth being back in the hospital and the showdown with Justin and then putting in a day's work at work in the middle of the night. Not everyone would do that. You had to give him some credit for basically being a man about all his responsibilities. Even the parts about Voight that rubbed him the wrong way more times than not – that aspect of him – being the father and being the cop and placing a whole fucking lot of importance on both – at least kept Jay biting his tongue on most occasions. That and Erin. Him and Voight needed to semi get-along to keep him and Erin on the right foot. And, he supposed Voight was sorta trying with the drinking and not biting off his head about being there or the dog.

"We figured we'd come back here after work and spend some time with Ethan."

Voight grunted. "Was gonna ask Erin to spend the afternoon with him. Al's gonna bring Michelle over in the morning to sit with him. Don't want him at District with how he is right now."

Jay nodded. "Yea, figured Erin watching him in the afternoon was the plan."

"Don't know if you'll be getting out early," he said flatly. "Some sloppy shit in your forms. We'll see if you can get it cleaned up by lunch." Voight eyed him and took a drink as he said it.

Jay just kept his eyes and didn't react. He'd done the paperwork. But if Voight wanted to test him to see if he'd put up a fuss – whatever. He wasn't happy with something about it – he'd fix it. Fuck him.

"Sure," Jay allowed.

"Then I'm gonna want you to help Ruzek. His shit is just a mess. He'll be ringing in the new year in bullpen by the looks of it."

Jay seethed a bit at that but just gave Voight a shrug. But if fucking Ruzek fucked up his New Year's, he'd be really fucking annoyed.

"You two still planning on eating here tomorrow?" Voight asked – again with complete lack of emotion. But the guy's voice lacked emotion most of the time – unless it was anger. If it didn't contain that it was usually just the Voight rasp.

Jay sat back in the couch a bit and gulped down a bit more of his drink. Talking to Voight outside of work still felt so fucking weird. Especially now that it apparently required more than acknowledging each other.

"Yea, that's the plan," he said. "But we were going to take off by about eight. My brother asked us over to a thing."

"Hmm … big shindig?" Voight asked.

"Ah … no. Just some friend he's having over for dinner," Jay said.

It was a whole lot less of a party than it was Will basically asking to have a chaperon so he didn't do anything stupid that might cause multiple regrets and fuck up his job situation. And Will was pretty good at getting himself into stupid situations. So going over for a bit sounded like a good plan. Things were just starting to get normal with having Will back in town. He was seeming stable. It was nice to have him around. Jay didn't really want all that to go down the shitter – because of a shitty decision by Will.

Voight was eyeing him though. "Manning," he said – rather than asked.

Jay squinted at him. How the fuck did he know that?

"The pediatric doc in the ER," Voight put back to him flatly.

OK. Yeah, Eth spent enough time in the ER that they would've had interaction with Natalie. But to believe together that was who Will was having over on New Year's Eve?

"They're always making eyes at each other," Voight provided. "Same as you and Erin."

Jay glared slightly. Fucking figured. Voight had picked up on him and Erin before Jay thought they were being that flirty in an obvious way. And he'd laid the fucking smackdown about it. That had only worked so long. It was annoying as fuck at the time. His spidey sense about it was annoying as fuck directed at his brother now too.

"He should be careful about that," Voight said.

"Why?" Jay pressed back with some tone. It was none of his fucking business.

Voight shrugged and took another sip. "Pregnant military widow who's a coworker," he said like it was obvious as fuck.

And Jay supposed it was. He kind of felt the same way. Military widows were just people you weren't supposed to fuck with. And a pregnant one? And the whole job situation when Will finally seemed to actually be settling into a job he seemed to like and might actually stay put in for a while? He shouldn't fuck that up. But whenever he tried to talk to Will about it, his brother just brushed it off as them being friends and her needing some support with her mourning and the baby's due date coming up. But Jay just wasn't sure that Natalie needed or wanted the kind of support that Will usually gave – which was fuck her and leave her. Or get way too attached too early and then go on his own self-destructive bender when the girl didn't feel the same way. And he wasn't exactly laying off on his womanizing if he was actually legitimately interested in this woman. He'd been in Molly's enough nights with him to watch him being a flirt – in a way worse way than Jay had ever been. But Will got the ginger in him and there was something about that that seemed to put a chip on his shoulder, a whole new level of horniness in his system, and just draw all the wrong women his way too.

"Erin said you don't want do the Mexican stuff with Eth tomorrow anymore," he said, forcing himself not to get into it with Voight. Might have to play nice with him at work and outside of work now – but he didn't need to debate his family's business with him.

"Don't think so," Voight allowed, though he eyed Jay with the diversion effort. "Too much corn. Gonna get him back on the diet for a while and see how he does."

Jay nodded. "We were talking about maybe doing some take-out from that barbecue place he tolerates. Some ribs or pulled pork or smoked wings or something."

Voight shrugged. "He never eats much when they've got him on antibiotics. Not really worth it."

"Save you cooking," Jay offered.

"Don't mind preparing a meal for my kids," Voight said with a clear tone that indicated he'd be taking care of feeding and that him and Erin should keep out of it. Or at least he should mind his own fucking business too.

Jay took another long gulp out of his glass. He was almost done. Could just about politely escape.

"Last I heard from Erin, they were at her place," Voight said after they sat in some silence. "When'd they end up back over here?"

Jay let out a little shrug. "Likely 'round ten," he said.

Voight eyed him again – clearly weighing that. Jay knew why. It was passed Eth's established "lights out". Voight was pretty fucking strict on the time he want his kid upstairs and in bed with the lights off. Jay supposed it made sense. The kid needed lots of rest and likely should've been in bed a whole lot earlier than 10 with everything he'd been put through that day.

"What happened?" Voight asked – again reading between the lines.

"He wasn't settling," Jay allowed. "Was complaining about being cold and Erin felt he was wheezing a bit so she decided getting over here with his heating blanket and the vaporizer was the best way to go."

Voight eyed him again for a while but allowed a nod. "He settle after you got back here?"

Jay sat for a moment. He didn't really like being the one giving the rundown. It didn't really seem like his place but he supposed the fact Voight was asking counted for something. He trusted him to give it?

"He did OK at the start," Jay provided. "But ended up having one of his episodes. Up puking. Pissed himself and was pretty disoriented. Asking for his mom. Getting confused on Erin. Asking for you."

Voight gave his head a little shake. "He's in a bad spot right now. Think we're at another flare up."

"Maybe it's still just the one from before Christmas," Jay suggested. "Or he's just off with the pneumonia and the antibiotics."

Voight just grunted at that. "Erin should've called," he said a bit more harshly.

"Think she was just trying to let you get done what you needed to get done and not feel like you needed to cut out early," Jay said because he really didn't want her to take any more wrath than she might still get about that sleeping dog in Voight's lap that he didn't seem too disturbed by.

He just made another one of his sounds that acknowledged he'd heard the person speak but he didn't much agree with them or didn't much care for their opinion.

"Look, I know you don't really like me seeing Ethan like that—"

"Is what it is," Voight cut him off. "It's good Erin has support. Someone to talk to about it. It's hard on her to see Magoo like this." And he took another drink.

But Jay took something from that acknowledgement too. It seemed a bit like back in the summer when Voight had acknowledged they were together and backwardly given his blessing. Said he wanted someone to have Erin's back 24/7. And that was basically what Jay was doing. He'd done as best as she'd let him before but he'd worked harder at it since then. And Eth was just part of that. It was just the way it went. He didn't mind so much. The kid had grown on him. He liked him a lot. Felt for him. But he saw what a strong little fucker Eth was so he figured eventually it'd all work out OK for him even if it was going to be a tougher road for the kid than most. He got the sense, though, that the Voight family did better with the toughness. The grit of life. Voight didn't have too much sympathy for those who hadn't dealt with some grit in their lives.

"Guess you aren't doing the ice fishing thing this weekend now," Jay stated.

Voight shook his head. "He needs to rest up. Been looking into it. Can rent heated shacks up near Lake Geneva. So when he starts bouncing back, I'll get that booked for him. Probably not what he's picturing but," he shrugged.

"You been before?"

"Ice fishing in Lake Geneva? No," Voight said. "Ice fishing, yes. Long time ago. Don't know how much fishing got done, though. Drinking. Shooting the shit."

Jay nodded and looked at his near empty glass but decided not to take the last swig just yet. "My grandfather took us a few times when we were kids," he provided. "He had a cabin up farther north in Wisconsin. Me and Will inherited when he died. If you wanted to go farther afield. Tools and gear would still be there."

Voight eyed him. "I'll keep it in mind."

Jay shrugged. "Tools and gear would still be there. Maybe more comfortable than a shack when you weren't out on the ice. Still fucking cold when you are out on the ice."

Voight shook his head. "I don't think he'll last long at the fishing hole even if I do the shack rental. Just give him a weekend out of the fucking city. Might be good for him."

"Yeah …" Jay acknowledged. "Maybe if he's up to it, I'll take him to the movie this weekend?"

"Don't think he's too interested in Star Wars after the fiasco," Voight rasped.

"I'll take him to whatever he wants," Jay said. "Erin just … wanted me to have a bit of one-on-one with him about the engagement. He seems … less than excited about it."

Voight let out an annoyed sigh. "Already told Erin that I'd talk to him about it. Just haven't got much time with him this week for that kinda talk."

Jay shrugged. "Yea, it's just … I think Erin and me want to talk to him. Justin feed him some –"

"What'd he say?" Voight barked with clear displeasure.

Jay eyed him. "I'm not trying to rock the boat. Eth just seemed a little upset and confused and we wanted to get it resolved before it festers."

"What'd he say?" Voight pushed back.

Jay measured how to respond. "Added fuck buddies to his vocabulary and told him we wouldn't last."

Voight examined the ceiling again with disgust. "I'll talk to him. I'll talk to both of them. Justin is the last fucking place my kid needs marriage or relationship advice from. He's not the example my youngest will be following. So don't worry about it."

Jay sat there looking at him. At least Voight seemed to acknowledge his eldest son could be an ass. But he wasn't sure that that would resolve the issue. Even if Voight did talk to Ethan, he figured him and Erin would still have their own chat with the kid. They'd tried to that night. But Eth was way too distracted by the puppy to participate in any sort of conversation beyond how to feed the dog and when he could walk him and what he should name him. It'd pretty much been all they talked about.

"What you know about Game of Thrones?" Voight pulled out of nowhere. Jay gazed at him – confused about that transition. "He said that's his New Year's Eve pick."

"Oh …" Jay allowed. "Ah … I haven't seen much of it. But Mouse has read the books and I think his review was, 'Sometimes you need to take a break from reading about penises.'"

"Jesus Fucking Christ," Voight muttered. "First he's on this Walking Dead and Breaking Bad crap and now this. And tries to feed me that everyone in his class is watching it. What twelve year olds watch this? What kind of fucking parents let them?"

Jay kind of knew the answer to that. He was the kind of kid who'd been watching sex and violence on TV at a young age. He'd been playing the videogames too. Shooting shit up. Blowing shit up. A fucking rage machine for much of his teens. And the answer for the parents – was just that some weren't that present or just didn't seem to care all that much.

Voight seemed to care. Maybe too much. Some things he was pretty fucking strict about. Jay'd seen it. And he'd heard about some of it from Erin – both in relation to her own teen years in the house and venting about some tactics she didn't agree with when it came to Voight's approach with Eth. But he wasn't sure he felt that Voight went too far. It could seem like he was being a hard-ass and there'd likely be moments that Eth hated his dad for it. But Jay also kind of suspected that Voight being Voight would be what got Eth through to adulthood in the best was possible. As much as Erin acknowledged he was a hard-ass, she openly admitted that his and his wife's rules and discipline were what straightened her out enough that she had a life.

Jay had to get himself straightened out on his own. It'd been the army and getting way from Chicago – or at least his fucking high school – that had done that for him. But it'd been a long fucking slog to get through that bullshit. At least Eth seemed to have support to get through some of the bullshit. And maybe not playing shoot 'em up games and not watching sex and violence when he was still pretty much just a kid wasn't such a bad idea or a bad way to raise him.

"Some parents just aren't all that aware or present," Jay said – not condemning either side of the equation. Though, he definitely had his own feelings about parents who checked out or didn't check in on their kids.

"He seems to think this Xbox thing," he said with a gesture, "does pay per view or something."

Jay glanced over at the TV set up. "Sort of," he acknowledged. "It has a movie rental service."

"And TV shows?" Voight put to him.

"Yea," Jay acknowledged. "But I can just set it up so you guys can access mine and Erin's Netflix account. Lots of movies and TV on that."

"It got parental controls?"

"Ah … I'm not sure," Jay said honestly. Not exactly something he'd ever played with. So Voight just grunted.

"Think we'll just be watching Jurassic Park again tomorrow night," he muttered.

Jay made a sound at that. That would definitely be reason for him and Erin to make a prompt escape after eating. He'd already endured that movie twice in one week. Didn't need to make it a third. But Eth seemed perfectly happy watching the same shit over and over and over again.

"Mouse said something 'bout some game where you program your own levels?" Voight put to him. "That one he can download with the card Erin got him or we have to buy in store?"

"Umm … I'm not sure," Jay said again. He was starting to feel like he was getting grilled about random shit. "What was it called?"

"Mario something."

"Oh … yeah, that's Nintendo," Jay said but Voight just looked at him. "It's a different console than the Xbox. It wouldn't work on here."

Voight just grunted again and looked at the dog. "Programming stuff might be good to get him into too," he said almost more to himself.

"There's apps for that sort of thing you could get on his phone. Likely online too."

Another grunt. "Justin thinks me having a grandkid makes me feel old," Voight said off-handedly. "It's not H who makes me feel old. It's fucking Ethan. Kids his age – they got a whole lot more complicated than when Erin and J were at that stage."

Jay wasn't sure how to respond to that. But apparently he wasn't expected too because Voight just washed back the rest of his drink and rose from the chair, the puppy still clutched to his chest, cradled carefully in his arm.

"I'm turning in," he said and started heading for the stairs. "You gonna act like you live here now, you put the glasses in the sink when you're done."

It wasn't a point of discussion. A statement. A order.

But Jay didn't argue because to him it seemed a bit more like an acknowledgement that he was almost welcome there. And that was a lot of progress. And it was what he wanted. If Erin was there – it was where he wanted to be too.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: As warned, not much time for updating this month. I might manage to get another up this week but don't expect much in the form of updated until into the New Year. Sorry folks — but enjoy your holidays.**


	21. Jenga

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Voight peeked into Ethan's bedroom as he got up the stairs but through the dim light could see the bare mattress on the bottom bunk. He turned and gazed at Erin's door for a moment – deciding whether or not to intrude.

It was funny. When his kids were still kids – he'd always check on them when he came upstairs. Did it right up until they'd finished off high school and flew the coop. There'd been periods where he was working so late, peeking into their rooms - or going and giving them a shoulder squeeze and exchanging a few words if they stirred awake – was about the only interaction he got with them. It'd been something he valued.

Voight didn't think he realized how much he valued it – not just for the kids but for his own sanity and stability – until Ethan had come home that summer. He'd had nearly two years of his older kids out of the home and his youngest shipped off to boarding school that he hadn't made a habit of checking in anymore. He didn't even make a habit of coming home anymore for a lot of it. He didn't have to be home. There wasn't a reason to be there. And being there alone wasn't always the best for him.

Ethan back in the house started the habit again. He hadn't even fully realized he was doing it at first but it'd quickly become part of the nighttime ritual again. Now with Ethan's health, he'd usually end up looking into the room about three times over the course of the evening. Rather than just calling up the stairs that it was lights out, he usually went up to make sure Ethan was settled and warm and comfortable – that any pain was controlled enough that his boy could get some shuteye. He'd usually end up there again around 11 or so to make sure he had fallen asleep and then would look it again when he passed by to hit his own rack.

It was weird the sense of stability and purpose kids could give you. But he liked having a reason to be home again.

It was different if Erin had him in her room, though. She was an adult now. Just barging in wasn't exact coth. Still, he tapped his knuckles lightly on the door as some sort of warning that if they were both sleeping, they weren't likely to hear. It wasn't like he was going to be walking in on anything, though. Halstead was downstairs. So he twisted the knob, leaving the door open a crack to let the light from the hallway stream in enough so he could see.

Erin stirred a bit in her sleep and lifted her head, squinting at the door – likely trying to decide if it was him or Halstead.

"It's me," he muttered and moved in a bit closer to the side of bed his son was sleeping on. Erin muttered something inteligible and rubbed sleepily at her eyes. "Just checking," Voight added. "He wasn't in his room."

She mumbled something else and then managed to get out. "He wet the bed. I couldn't find the sheets."

"Yeah," Voight acknowledged, setting the now squirming puppy down next to his son and reaching to feel his boy's forehead. "I got behind on laundry this week."

He didn't think there were any twin-sized sheets left unless Erin had stripped the top bunk and moved them down to the bottom for Ethan. It'd probably be easiest to get his son a double bed at that point for a lot of reasons but the boys' room was so cramped that the bed would take up most of the space and his youngest seemed pretty attached to the bunks still. He supposed there might reach a point he'd switch his boy over to Erin's room to give him a bit more space. Not yet, though. Maybe when he started high school. See where they were all at then. Maybe he'd still be wanting the bigger room for company and grandchildren rather than moving his youngest in.

Erin clearly misunderstood the statement, though, and mumbled again, "Yeah. I put them in the wash." She stirred a bit more. "I should go move them to the dryer."

Hank reached and put a hand on her shoulder, keeping her in place. "Go back to sleep," he told her gently.

The puppy followed his hand though and nipped at her hair, tugging it gently and she reached to bat what she likely thought was Hank's hand away until to smack the dog in the face. It let out a little whimper and she rolled back over and looked apologetically at the puppy.

"I'm sorry," she said and reached for it only to have her eyes open bigger and gaze at Hank with some apprehension at the more awake realization that he was home and he had the dog.

"Go back to sleep," he told her again and reached for the puppy himself, moving it closer to Ethan.

He didn't really want to deal with a damn dog. But it was here now. He wasn't exactly going to tread all over his kid's heart by ripping it away from him. And the reality was that he knew it was going to be rough going when school started back up again after the winter break. His boy was going to need something to pull him through. So maybe he was just going to have to figure out how to manage integrating a dog into their lifestyle too. Maybe it could be something that resembled a companion for his kid until they figured out a way for him to stop being the pity case and have real connections with people.

The puppy seemed happy to be back closer to Ethan and went up to his face, lapping at it until the boy stirred. He tried to bat him away too until he seemed to realize it was the tongue of the dog and opened his eyes a slit and reached for the puppy, pulling it close to his chest. It just made the dog lick more excitedly at his face. Ethan let out a quiet giggle from the tickles of the rough little tongue and squinted against it more.

Hank reached and scratched at the dog's head, trying to calm him down a bit. And Ethan's eyes shifted to the hand.

"Dad?" he muttered sleepily.

Hank nodded but only said, "This guy got a name?"

Ethan's hand joined his in stroking at the puppy, who Hank was thinking might not be going back to sleep now. Should've left him downstairs.

"Bear, I think," Ethan said.

"Mmm," Voight acknowledged the apparent finalist. "Looks like he's goin' to be a bear when he's done growing."

Ethan eyed him. "We can keep him, right, Dad? He can live with us?"

Voight reached and brushed some of Ethan's matted hair away from his forehead. He was sweaty. It could just be a night sweat. His boy got regular fevers in his sleep anymore. If they weren't up changing his sheets because he pissed them without knowing it, they were up changing the sheets because he'd soaked through them in one of these damn sweats. But he should grab the thermometer and check with this fucking pneumonia in him. If the fever had spiked up again, they likely should be headed back into the hospital yet fucking again.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow," he said. "All of us."

Erin made a quiet sound to that. She'd get a talking to at work – on her break – out of Ethan's earshot. But she likely already knew that. It was pretty much a given. She wasn't stupid – even when she did stupid fucking shit. Though, this stunt might not be that stupid. And, he'd seen it coming anyway. He could've put a stop to it if he really wanted to. But sometimes it wasn't worth it. Let Erin be the hero who got his boy the dog. He'd be the dad who sorted out how they were all going to manage that.

Ethan gazed at him a moment longer but didn't argue. He wasn't so dumb either. And he just went back to looking at the dog, pulling back the skin on its face and scruffing at its ears while the puppy tried to nip at his hands and fingers and wrists in its playful excitement.

"How you feeling?" Hank asked his boy but Ethan just shrugged at him. That was the usual 'not great' answer 'but I'm refusing to admit weakness to you'. "Think you're running a fever?" Another shrug.

"He was earlier," Erin mumbled with her back turned, still trying to drift back to sleep. He doubted she was going to have much luck. "A little one. Lower than what the doctor said to bring him back for."

"I saw Mom again," Ethan admitted quietly. "But I think it was just Erin."

Hank grunted some acknowledgement. "Sometimes she looks a bit like Mom," he allowed.

People said pet owners ended up looking like their pets. Hopefully that wasn't true. But he thought there might be something to adopted kids eventually taking after their adoptive parents. Nurture. They picked up on mannerisms, physical ticks, the habits and the sarcasms. The humor and the morals. To a point.

Voight doubted that Magoo really remembered what his mom looked like anymore. There weren't many pictures out. He didn't like them out. And his mind was so rattled with the brain injury, he wasn't sure how much he remembered about her period. Sometimes he'd say something like the kid was looking into a snowglobe. Could almost make out the whole diorama. But then he'd be missing all these pieces and if you brought up the memory he'd latched on to later that time he wouldn't recall it at all. His hardwiring was just all fucked to hell.

But it wasn't the first time – or the first person – who'd said Erin looked like him or Camille. Truth was that a lot of times Erin got mistaken as his mom more than his sister. Not something Erin had liked much when she was younger and still rubbed her the wrong way now when the mistake got made. Did a bit Voight too. His boy was a piece of Camille. Another thing she'd left for him – and left him responsible for. Constant reminder for his responsibilities and not to have his head shoved too far up his ass.

There were a lot of people who didn't know their family too well, though, when the kids were younger who just made the assumption when she was living with them. Maybe it was the hair. But there were other little pieces of Camille that Voight saw in Erin too. Things she'd picked up from her while she'd been in their care. Sometimes it bothered him. Other times it didn't.

He leaned to the nightstand. "I'm switching on the light," he warned. "I want to take a look at your eyes."

Ethan squinted heavily under the light as it flooded that side of the room and Erin let out another little groan.

"I checked them already," she said. "They're fine."

Voight grunted but still tilted his boy's head at took his own look. The one wasn't doing its cock-eyed thing. They weren't contracting with the light as quickly as they should, though.

"Got any of that pain in them?" he asked.

"No," Ethan muttered and jerked his head away from him, going back to looking at the puppy.

Voight put his thumb under his boy's chin and brought his eyes back to him. Ethan reluctantly stared at him.

"You lying to me?" Voight put to him.

"No," Ethan said a bit more timidly.

Voight weighed the look on his son's face and his body language. "You know when you're having problem with your eyes you got to tell me. Don't matter you don't like getting the IVs. Better than dealing with long-term eye problems, E. You don't want to lose your sight."

"I was just confused," he said timidly. "It was my head not my eyes."

Voight gave a little nod and released his son who immediately went back to gazing at the dog instead of him. Voight's eyes drifted, looking at Erin's trying-to-sleep back. There was no way she was sleeping but she clearly wasn't interested in participating in the conversation or observation. He didn't blame her. He'd woken them. He knew he would but he wanted to check on Magoo.

His eyes drifted again falling onto Ethan's copy of Jurassic Park. They'd worked through a little more of it at the hospital during the day. The plan to get Magoo to read it wasn't going entirely as planned. But at least he was sitting and listening and getting him to be able to sit still and concentration and work on his comprehension was important too. And moreover, it was a distraction for his kid.

He picked it up and paged through it trying to see where Erin had gotten up to with him. Sharing the reading meant that he was missing out on some of the plot. But he could go back and catch up. He was a quick reader.

"You go through some more of this?" Hank muttered at his son.

"Yea," Ethan provided. "And I'm glad you're home. Erin doesn't read good."

"I can hear you," Erin mumbled, still not moving.

"How's Erin not read good?" Voight put to his son – not oblivious to the irony of that statement.

"She sounds like a girl," he said, completely fixated on the puppy.

"You don't say," Erin said, her head shaking just slightly from her sprawled position.

"Yea," Ethan said and flopped over again his sister's back – clearly trying to get a reaction out of her. "And it sounds stupid when reading a dinosaur book."

She just flapped her top arm around and tried to push him away. "Get off me," she said in a slightly more awake voice.

Hank reached over and grabbed his son's shoulder, pulling him to an upright position. "C'mon, leave your sister alone. She's trying to sleep."

Ethan gave a little huff and nudged the puppy her way like the puppy jumping on her was more acceptable but Hank just stood and pulled back the covers.

"C'mon," he ordered again. "Up. We're going to check your temperature and let Erin get some shuteye."

Ethan didn't argue at all. He'd likely decided he was awake and Dad was awake so now he had someone to talk to. They'd see how long that lasted.

"Hank, just leave him," Erin said, turning her head a bit and giving him some side-eye. "You should sleep."

He shook his head as Ethan shuffled out of the bed and pushed himself up on unsteady feet. He gave Erin's hair a small teasing tug and touched her temple.

"Rest," he encouraged and looked back at E. "You need your crutches?"

"No," Ethan said but grabbed for the puppy.

Hank shook his head again and reached to put the novel in his son's hands instead. "Take that," he ordered. "I've got to the dog. Go to my room. I'll be there in a minute."

Ethan started to do his staggered gait toward the door and Hank turned to again clutch the puppy in his arms.

"This thing going to need to eat again tonight?" he put to Erin.

She let out another quiet moan and rubbed at her eyes, rolling onto her back to squint at him, just as he reached to turning the bedside light back off.

"What time is it?" she muttered.

"Pushing three," he told her.

She groaned. "Hank, just leave Ethan and the dog. Sleep."

"The dog need to be fed again or not?" he pressed back at her ignoring her statement. Next lesson with kids – sleepless nights were just a reality. Another thing that only improved so much with their age.

"He should be OK," she muttered. "Likely 'til around six."

Voight gave a little nod. "OK," he allowed. "Want us clearing out of here by 'bout 6:30. Al's gonna drop Michelle off to sit with E in the morning. Gonna send you home in the afternoon to keep an eye on him."

"OK," Erin said sleepily, still rubbing at her eyes. She might not be going back to sleep either.

"You sure he's OK?" he asked.

"Yea," she provided a bit more firmly. "Just one of his episodes. And he's cold and wheezing." She gestured absently at the humidified still misting in the room. He thought for a moment of transferring it but decided to leave it at that point. Like Erin said, he wasn't sure how much E would sleep now. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, though. Meant he'd likely sleep through part of the morning, which would make things easy for Michelle.

So he gave a little nod, giving her shoulder another small squeeze and he headed for the door, carrying the pup draped over one arm. He seemed to have calmed a bit in that positioning. He went to the top of the stairs and called down, "Halstead, got that side of the bed vacated."

He left it at that. Wasn't going to call it his side of the bed. Wasn't going to tell the man to go sleep next to his daughter. But – put the option out there. Couch was comfortable but Halstead was fucking tall. That couch wasn't made for tall people. That'd be purposeful when him and Camille had picked it. Keep fucking teenaged boys from sprawling across it and destroying the fucking thing. But he heard the TV flick off even if there wasn't immediate movement to come up the stairs. Guy was likely waiting for him to get out of sight – which was fine.

He moved down the hallway, looking at the pooch. He wondered if Erin realized that she might've struck it rich, if she'd found a guy who was willing to get up to do fucking night feedings of a dog. Likely meant he wouldn't put up a protest about dragging his ass out of bed to deal with feedings of an infant. He was still struggling with wrapping his head around accepting this but forcing himself to acknowledge Erin was an adult and as protective as he wanted to be of her there was only so far he could go before it just pushed her away. Besides, he trusted Halstead to watch her back at work. Trusted him to take care of his daughter when guns were being pulled and bullets were flying and fucking dirtbags were in their midst. If he trusted him with that – he could trust him with making sure she was happy? Giving her a family? Taking care of any grandkids that got produced out of that relationship? Somehow that seemed like a much more important role and bigger trust to place in him. Happiness and family were challenging responsibilities to take on.

He grabbed the thermometer out of the bathroom and entered his bedroom to find Ethan already propped up in the bed, looking at the pages of the Jurassic Park book like he was actually reading it.

"Get under the covers," he told his son, plopping the puppy down next to him and handing him the thermometer. "And stick that thing in your ear."

He watched Ethan for a moment but when it was clear he was listening, he turned and unbuttoned the sleeves on his shirt – pulling the rest of the thing over his head. He was too fucking beat to bother with the rest of the buttons. He tossed it in the general direction of the hamper. It missed. He left it and unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his fly and pushed down his jeans and shucked off his socks. He padded to the bed in just his tshirt and shorts and got in.

He'd barely settled when Ethan scooted over and pressed up against him. E had always been a bit of a cuddler. A mama's boy. The baby in the house. He wasn't shy with looking for affection from his mom as a little boy and he'd transferred most of that to Erin. He'd seek out affection from her a lot. He'd look for some from his dad but not as much. Like he was afraid of him. But that had changed since the M.S. had been added to his list of challenges. When he thought no one was looking, he'd seek out the affection just as much from Voight as he would his sister.

Hank didn't mind. For all the things he'd done wrong with his kids – he'd never withheld affection. Kids needed hugs. Both of his sons had got them growing up – even if J was selective about his memory about how frequent they'd been. Truth was J stopped wanting hugs long before Voight was ready to stop giving them. But maybe that's how he'd raised him. Boys. He'd taken a different approach with Justin. He'd learned from his mistakes and also had been forced to make adjustments with Ethan.

He wasn't going to go out and publicize it – but having Ethan back home and getting that affection counted for a lot. It was another thing on the list of things he hadn't realized how much he'd missed until it was back in his life and he had time to reflect on it. Sometimes when his boy came looking for those hugs or bits of affection, he felt like Ethan had been some sort of purposeful gift Camille had left him. This piece of her to cling to. A reason and an excuse to be softer. And, as much as he knew that he needed E away to be able to establish Intelligence and that his position in Intelligence was now giving him the leeway to care for his family the way he needed to, it made him regret even more only getting crumbs of those two years of his childhood.

He wrapped his arm around his son and was immediately struck by how soaked his boy's sleep shirt was.

"Take that off," he said, pulling away from his boy a bit and tugging at the neck fo the shirt.

Ethan looked at him but then awkwardly pulled the shirt off while Hank pulled his own tshirt over his head and then scrunched it up to get the neck and arms over his son's extremities. He grabbed the boy's discarded shirt and tossed it to the hamper. It managed to land inside. He reached and took the thermometer from E, examining the numbers. Erin was right. It was barely a fever. Just another night sweat leaving his kid soaking wet.

Ethan flopped back against him. "Your shirt smells," he said.

"You saying I stink," Hank muttered at him as he put the thermometer on the nightstand and again wrapping his arm around his son.

"Your shirt does," Ethan told him.

Hank just let out a grunt at that, as his son settled against his bare chest and again went back to petting at the puppy as the thing showed some interest in climbing up into Hank's lap. And little interest in sleeping.

"You think the name 'Bear' is good, Dad?" Ethan asked in his continued examination of the dog.

"I think the person who names him is gonna have to take a lot of responsibility for him," Hank said.

Ethan looked up at him with big eyes. "Does that mean we are keeping him?"

"It means the three of us are going to be having a real long talk on the weekend," Voight said.

E examined him, weighing the comment. "But we're going ice fishing this weekend," he provided quietly.

Hank shook his head. "You've got pneumonia, Magoo. We aren't going and sitting in the cold."

"So when are we going to go?" Ethan whined at him.

Hank shrugged. "Don't know. When you're feeling better."

His head flopped against him. "When will that be?" he said dejectedly.

Voight gripped at his shoulder. "Doc said those antibiotics are going to start making you feel a lot better in the next day or two but you're body is going to take two or three weeks to bounce back."

Ethan let out a little sigh. "Can we at least go see the fireworks tomorrow?"

"No," Hank said firmly but held his boy tight. "We're keeping you warm and we're resting up."

"So we're doing nothing?" Ethan lamented.

"We're eating some dinner and watching some TV," Hank said.

Ethan sunk against him. "Game of Thrones?" he asked cautiously.

"I don't think so. You're gonna hafta pick something else."

Ethan sighed again and looked up at him. "Does this mean I'm not allowed to do anything next week too?"

Voight shrugged. "We'll see how you're doing."

"But Jay is supposed to take me to a movie and to laser tag," he said.

"Maybe a movie," Voight agreed. "Don't think you're near well enough to be doing any laser tag right now either, Magoo. That's going to have to wait a couple weeks too."

"Are you at least taking some time off?" Ethan whined.

Hank flared his nostrils. "Eth, I took lots of time off in December."

"Not real time off. Hospital time off," he looked at him with puppy dog eyes.

Hank pulled him tighter and put his lips against the crown of his head. "We'll see, Magoo," he assured. "I'll see what he can do."

Always this fucking balance. Or maybe it was more like a Jenga tower. Needed to keep trying to build the family up before something came along that made them all topple down. Harder that it looked.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Please review. Hope you have a great holidays. I'm sort of running out of ideas on where to go in terms of scenes in this particular sequence around New Year's and Ethan's winter break. If you have ideas, let me know. Otherwise, I might sort of move on to other things/scenes.**


	22. Under Appreciated

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Erin looked as Hank came out of his office and barked, "Erin, Al – leave." Always so eloquent. Not eloquent enough apparently because Adam was already mumbling under his breath about how it was very convenient that she always seemed to be the first one granted permission to leave on the days they were tied to their desk.

Maybe it was convenient. It actually was. It was how her and Hank had been managing Ethan's health issues. They took turns. And it often meant that she got the afternoon/after-school/start homework/prep dinner round on days she could go because then she sort of got most nights free. The ones that didn't involve work. Or the ones where Hank was out doing whatever it was that Hank did when he was out late.

It was obvious. Everyone knew what was going on. They knew her relationship with Hank. They knew his home situation right now with Ethan. The unit, though, they were family. They were supposed to help each other out in situations like this. Hank would turn blind eyes to Al or Antonio having to leave their desks early or rearrange their hours if it was for their families. Their kids. As much as he could. As much as the job allowed on a given day or week or case. Sometimes it was easier than others.

Ruzek shouldn't be complaining so much. The rest of the unit had a right to complain. He'd dragged his feet and fucked around so much with his year-end paperwork that it was a mess. The rest of them were stuck helping him clean it up so Hank could get it in and they could meet their stats and quotas and not have the Ivory Tower up their asses into the new year. So they could do their jobs. A job he seemed to like and want for all the bitching he did about the moments where he wasn't getting to be that bad boy cowboy.

Sometimes she thought Jay was right about Adam. That he was too unhinged. Too trigger happy. That he was going to get himself or someone else killed because he was so careless sometimes. Hell, he already almost had that fall.

If anyone had a right to be pissed off in that moment – it was anyone but Adam. There were other people in the room who were hoping to get early leave too. None of them wanted to be the two held behind with Voight to put in the full shift in case some shit did happen to hit the fan. Any shit that hit the fan was more likely to happen that night and they'd instead get crumbs about it from CIs or other units in the coming days and start working on new cases than. If there'd been something that Intelligence was needed for that night – if they'd been anticipating something going down – they would've known weeks ago (or at least days ago) and had their whole agenda in place. Though, Hank had missed a lot of time the past few weeks to have his ear to the rails. He hadn't been prowling to pester his CIs and keep tabs on the scum either. To play the game. But that's where the trust in the rest of the unit and the rest of the CPD had to come in. You had to trust others to do their jobs. If they weren't expecting anything big to go down that New Year's Eve – there wasn't going to be anything going down.

Had to wonder, though. Major events and holidays always brought about that trepidation. Though with their line of work the movement of drugs and counterfeit and anything else Intelligence would follow would've usually taken place before the big event. They'd see remnants of it in the aftermath. The bad hits. New names get thrown around if something unknown had rolled into town and started bringing money, crime or fatalities with it. But still there was something about the gathering at Navy Pier and the big new Chi-Town Rising shindig that had to get your spidery senses going a bit. Still, Voight seemed laid back about it. There'd be a huge police presence at both events. That other units – and other jurisdictions – dealing with terrorism or SWAT or crowd control would take care of the ear-to-the-ground there. If something had come up that Intelligence needed to know – it was their responsibility to pass it on. Not that they hadn't reached out to their own CIs just to make sure there wasn't anything twittering about any of it. But there didn't seem to be. Biggest thing would likely be the usual drunks and the possibility of gun violence in some of the communities. And that wasn't for Intelligence to deal with either.

So if Adam could just get his ass in gear and finish his shit – it would be everyone that Hank was telling to leave. Everyone but two people. And, right now it really wasn't looking good that Adam was going to be one of the ones that got to leave. Maybe that was part of the reason he didn't seem in to big of hurry to get his shit wrapped. He liked an audience.

And, right now he had one. Jay was drilling laser beams in Adam's direction. But Adam seemed as oblivious as ever. He was staring at the screen with one of his stunned looks that was clear he didn't know how to do something but he also likely wasn't going to ask for help. Not from one of them. He was more likely to pull up some hopeful, wide-eyed patrolman into doing his shit for him.

Erin gathered her things – and her coat – and rose from her desk. She was about to move toward the stairs but Hank had come back to his office door and gestured for her to come over. She went and stood in front of him – blocking much of his view from the rest of the bullpen.

He discretely held some folded bills at her. "Get this to Michelle," he gasped as quietly as he ever made his voice go. "Let Al know she's got the cash but don't let him keep her from taking it. She does six hours of 'sitting, she's getting paid."

Erin gazed at him. She suspected that was going to be a bit of a fight. Al wasn't going to like Hank paying his kid. She wasn't sure how much money Al actually liked Michelle having at any given time with her whole age and stage and history thing. Hank sure hadn't liked her having much more than lunch money in her pocket for most of her teens after the trouble she'd given him and Camille and her state when she'd entered the family. He wasn't giving Ethan much more than pocket money either after the whole private school dealing and cigarette and pot smoking at twelve thing. Ethan was a better saver than her, though. She'd always been so thrilled to actually have money to be able to afford to buy anything that she'd blown through it pretty quick.

It'd taken a couple years before she learned to save it a bit better – mostly when she had that brief period in the popular crowd and was getting invited to parties and outings and events, and Hank hadn't been too giving in upping her allowance or Friday night pocket money to accommodate hanging out with the rich girls. So she'd had to learn how to save. Those relationships had been short-lived, though. And really so had her saving efforts. She still struggled with it a bit. Hell, she could hardly afford to buy a new couch when she'd blown through her 'savings' on her 'sabbatical'. And it wasn't like she'd bought anything too fancy even if Jay called it 'decorative furniture'.

Yet, now, she was going to have to be the one to manage whatever Al's rules or attitudes about his daughter getting handed a wad of cash from one of his closest friends was. She didn't much like that idea. But she also wasn't going to start a personal battle with Voight about it at work. Their 'private' lives – their family – had been a little too on display for the both of them basically for months. They didn't need to add to it.

So she just took the bills and shoved them into her pocket without comment, turning on her hell and going over to Jay's desk. He looked up at her as she dropped her car keys on his desk and shoved them over – also trying to be discrete, but she knew it wasn't. She could almost feel Ruzek staring – likely trying to collect more recognizance for Burgess and whatever she thought she knew. And she could feel Atwater doing that side-eyed stare too where he discretely tried to take everything in in the room as he not so discretely tried to climb the ladder. She wasn't sure where exactly he thought he was headed but it was pretty clear that he didn't see Intelligence as his final stop. He was just a rung for him. Sometimes that bothered her a bit. But it'd likely bug her more to work with Ruzek and Burgess together daily too. So maybe she'd just go with the flow on the whole Atwater thing. Hank seemed generally happy with him – expect when he wasn't.

"That thing we talked about," she put to him. "Just do it."

Jay gazed at her and darted his eyes towards Hank's office, giving a small nod of the head. "Oh, I don't think Dad will be too happy about that," he said at a near whisper.

She shrugged. "I'll take the lumps. Just stop and pick it up."

Jay let out a long breath that was about as close as he ever got to agreement with her when he was being drawn into a situation that he didn't much like. But whatever.

She went and met Al, who stood swirling that old toothpick around his lips and waiting for her in the hallway. Typical Al. Always parked out back. Only used the front door when forced too. And never on the same day twice.

He turned and walked with her as she passed him. She held the door for him as they started down the stairs. Her lift home – for her to take over watching Ethan and for him to pick up Michelle. She didn't know what Al's plans were for New Year's Eve. Or even the rest of the day. Michelle had plans with some of the other kids from the Youth Boxing League. So she imagined that Al would likely spend time with her until she needed a lift to the roller-rink for the teenaged dance party and whirly ball and whatever other arcade insanity they had going on in the dark-light lighting there. Either that or he'd just drop Michelle off at the gym or their apartment or some friend's house and he'd go back to Intelligence. Or worse – he'd go and find some spot to drink alone and try to forget all the bad that year had brought him.

Al had always been a little melancholy. He'd clearly been through a lot. Sometimes it felt like he'd been through more than Hank even though they'd spent so much of their careers working together. But Al was a different sort of man than Hank. He was emotional in a different kind of way. Quiet in a different kind of way. And though he knew everyone – much like Hank – he didn't quite seem to have the same network of friends and acquaintances and support in quite the same way that Hank did either. He seemed sad and lonely a lot. There'd been moments that year where he seemed particularly sad and lonely. She knew a lot of it had to do with what had gone on between him and Meredith. The tension between him and Lexi and the fact that he felt like he hadn't just watched his marriage fall apart, he'd lost a daughter.

Erin, though, didn't think Lexi was particularly lost. She was more likely just hurting and just confused. There was likely a lot of anger and a sense of betrayal there too. She was a near adult coming to all the angst realizations that that age came with but having the reality that your parents – your father – is just human and makes all kinds of mistakes and commits all kinds of sins too. Sometimes it's hard to accept that about your dad. Really hard. Sometimes it needs you making your own mistakes and committing your own sins before you realize that what he did might not have been so bad. Maybe hurtful. Maybe disappointing. There's likely reason to still be angry or even feel a little betrayed. But it wasn't evil. It wasn't intentionally done to hurt his daughter. Lexi likely just needed time to come to terms with all of that. Erin wasn't sure that it happened at 17 – even for very grown-up 17 year olds who'd already been through a lot. But she did know that Lexi really did love her dad. That she idolized him in her own way. She respected him. And with time – and effort from Al to keep those ties there and to keep their lines of communication open, for his daughter to know she always had a place in his heart and that he'd still be there when she was ready for him to be a part of her life again – they'd heal. They'd have a relationship again. It just needed that time.

And, if the reason that all of it was happening was that Michelle had been brought into his life – Erin had trouble accepting that was so awful either. Michelle was a nice kid. A really nice kid. Smart and kind despite everything she'd been through and the trouble she'd been in. And she treated Al like gold. That counted for a lot too. He needed that. Needed to be appreciated a bit. Needed to have some affection there. And, she had seen more than once how some of that melancholy faded away when Michelle was around. How Al's eyes got that light in them again. It made it hard to classify Michelle as the problem – or the cause of his problems. It was more that she was a backward gift. And maybe Al deserved just that.

"How's Hank doing?" Al asked as they got down the steps and started walking through the backspace.

She gave him a glance and shrugged. "OK," she said. She thought she might need to be asking him the same but she didn't. Al didn't work so well on the question and answer game. And neither did Hank. It was likely why he was asking her instead.

"Rough few weeks," he said.

She shoved her hands in her pockets. "Don't know, Al. How do you measure it? Rough few weeks or rough few months or rough year or rough years?"

He gave her those deep eyes. The ones that did so little to hid that he was a man of deep thought and deep emotions.

"Ethan doesn't look like he's doing so well," Al said, as he held the door open for her to exit into the parking lot. Chances were he hadn't even parked in it. It was more likely that he'd parked a block or two a way and she'd stand on the sidewalk while he did a little sweep of his car during a walk around to make sure his spidery sense didn't start tingling.

She eyed him at the Ethan comment, though, hesitating before she started to follow him along the path to where he'd left his vehicle.

It was true. Ethan didn't look great. The hospital stay that month had done very little to make him look better. There were some days where he had looked better. When steroids and fluids were being pumped into him. It wasn't so much that he looked better, though. It was that he looked bloated and flushed – and had some color to him – because of all the fluids that were flowing into him through IV. That quickly washed out of his system, though, and now he looked as skinny as ever. His face had that pale, pasty look to it. His tremoring was improving a bit but he just seemed weak. His foot drop was really visible right now and he was still struggling to navigate on the crutches because of his complete lack of upper body strength. The doctor had said that the physical therapist would likely try him on a foot and leg brace too to try to strength the muscles in his calf and ankle to teach his foot to eventually sit properly again. To strengthen it to the point it wasn't dragging along beside him and causing him to trip all over himself. But right now he had the slight wheeze and the frail cough with his pneumonia. He was pretty much just a sick little boy.

Erin knew that a lot of it would pass. He was in a flare right now. A relapse. Though not all the symptoms would disappear – they'd become more manageable. Until the next time. The thing was it was hard for them to predict when the next time would be. It was all just trying to manage the symptoms for him to help him cope. It was hard when it was so compromised with some of his other delays and cognitive issues and learning disabilities with his brain trauma. Some days all of it just seemed so cruel. But she clung to knowing that eventually he'd have good days again. Even some of his bad days weren't as bad as others. And some times good hours were enough. They didn't even need the days. It was just exhausting, though.

"He's hanging in there," Erin provided.

Al examined her. "Back in the hospital again yesterday?" he put flatly, making it clear that Hank had told him nothing. Hadn't explained why Michelle was needed that morning, just requested her presence. And, Al, as his friend, had provided it without question.

But she again shrugged, trying to honor Hank's privacy, even if it was Al. "Yea, he's got pneumonia. Hank just didn't want him coming in with it. He's pretty tired from all the hospital stuff and the activity at Christmas."

Al gave a small nod but still gave her side-eye. "Hank's been quiet about it."

"Yea … you know him and hospitals … and Ethan," she allowed.

Al looked at the ground as they walked. He was likely used to be Hank's confidant to a point. Maybe he was a little hurt he wasn't being trusted as one right now. Or just worried.

"That's a lot to carry," Al said.

"Yea …" Erin agreed.

And it was. She could see that Hank was tired. It was likely more than tired. He was exhausted. Mentally and physically and emotionally. Not that Hank ever really voluntarily took a day off just to take a day off – but he definitely needed one. He more than deserved one. Probably more than one. He likely had a stockpile of furlough. Though she wasn't entirely sure how he'd dealt with the time he was away from the bullpen in December. She hadn't asked too many questions. It was the kind of thing he dealt with and sorted out on his own and pretty much did his own way. It was one of those things where he'd say it was better to just act now and ask for forgiveness later. Not that Hank ever really asked for forgiveness. But you couldn't much not do something that you'd already done. And if the outcome was positive – what more was there really to say about it beyond saying he should've gone through proper channels. That wasn't Hank. He did his things his own way.

"He hasn't been asking for much," Al said, casting her another long look.

She gave him a thin smile. "He's coping OK, Al. He's just tired. Maybe tell him the unit won't fall apart if he actually takes a vacation day or two and sleeps in and sits still."

He nodded but looked at the ground. "Hard seeing Ethan that way," he said.

Eth had still been in the shower when Al and Michelle had arrived. They should've gotten him up and on the go sooner but they hadn't. Ethan still managed to shower himself OK but stepping in and out of the tub was a challenge for him with his legs at the moment. Hank was planning on putting some railing in at least to help him – if not rip out the tub and put in a stall instead. But when that would happen was another story. It hadn't happened yet. So they'd had to wait until Eth finished and Hank had gone in to help make sure he stepped over the edge OK without falling on his face and them ending up in the hospital again with broken bones.

Ethan was dressed in clean PJs and downstairs before Hank had been ready to leave the house in the morning. He'd given Al and Michelle that embarrassed look again. But Erin didn't think Eth had looked that sick. He was starting to get some color back into his face and he wasn't shaking too badly. The lounge pants and hoodie hung off him but that was most of Eth's clothes anymore.

Hank did make a comment about how his son was supposed to be at the age where he couldn't keep up with having to buy new clothes for him with all the growth spurts he was having and the pre-puberty pudge he put on before he'd likely trim right out if he was going to fill out in any way like his dad and brother. But instead what Voight couldn't keep up with was his weight loss and trying to keep the weight on him. Buying clothes for Ethan was just as useless as in a growth spurt because it seemed like any time they bought him a new pair of pants or a better fitting shirt within a few weeks he was just hanging off him again. Though, one of the things they had to do that week was take him in to get him refitted for his school uniform. The ones they'd got for him in the fall nearly engulfed him and even though the school had approved its untidy look given the circumstances, Hank didn't want his boy being a bigger mark than he already was and had decided he was dropping money into buying more clothes that likely weren't going to fit by the end of June either.

"He's really doing OK, Al," Erin emphasized. "He wouldn't be home if he wasn't."

Al glanced at her as they neared his car. "How are you doing?" he tried instead.

"I'm good," she said. It wasn't a lie. "I've got people to lean on. Hank. Jay."

He watched her as he rounded the back of his car in the little circuit he took around it – looking for any sign of tampering. He got to the driver door and unlocked it. Her hand reached for the handle just as his elbows landed on the roof and he gazed at her over the vehicle.

"You can lean on me too," he said. "All of you."

She gave him a thin smile. "I know," she said and gave him sympathetic eyes. "I'll remind Hank too, Alvin."

He gave a little nod and disappeared inside.

Sometimes she didn't think Hank truly appreciated how lucky he was to have Al as a friend. It wasn't just his wife or daughter or the CPD who under-appreciated him. But it really did seem to be the things – and people – who he cared about most who did.

That made her a little melancholy for him too. He deserved to be appreciated – just like Hank deserved some sleep. Maybe they could reach an agreement that would help them both out.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Please review. Hope you have a great holidays. I'm sort of running out of ideas on where to go in terms of scenes in this particular sequence around New Year's and Ethan's winter break. If you have ideas, let me know. Otherwise, I might sort of move on to other things/scenes. Thanks for the thoughts and suggestions so far.**


	23. Weirdo Little Freak

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Michelle glanced away from scruffing at the ears of Bear to look at whatever the hell it was that Ethan was doing with the circuitry kit or whatever the hell it was that he had on the table. Babysitting Ethan was probably about the most boring thing ever. Like the kid was twelve and he needed a babysitter? Clearly his dad was kind of overprotective. Thankfully he had the puppy or else the morning might never end.

"It's cool your dad got you a dog," she commented off-handedly.

Ethan looked up at her and then down at the puppy, who despite the fact she was petting him, seemed way more interested in chewing on Ethan's sock and climbing in and out of his lap. But Ethan was pretty transfixed on the robot or whatever he was making. Though, he seemed to think the puppy would want to play with it. Michelle was pretty sure the puppy wanted to play with him not some plastic toy that she was pretty sure Ethan might freak out about if the puppy started chewing on it, which seemed to be the thing's favorite pastime.

"He didn't get it," Ethan said. "Erin did."

"Oh …" Michelle said and looked at the puppy again. "Well, it's cool your dad is letting you have it."

"Maybe," Ethan said flatly.

She gaped at him. "He's not letting you keep it?"

Ethan shrugged. "Probably will. He likely would've made us take it back if we weren't going to get to keep it. But he says we need to have a 'long talk' about it this weekend."

He said it with this total tone that indicated 'long talks' were his dad's thing. A family meeting or whatever. It was sorta a funny concept since even though she didn't really know Hank, he didn't really seem like the kind of guy who talked and she sorta thought that it was likely less of a talk and more like he just told Ethan stuff. Though, Ethan didn't seem all that anti-authority, which was weird considering he was a cop's kid and kinda of a little freak.

"That's cool. I mean, your dad sorta gives off the vibe he might like throw a puppy in a snow pile."

Ethan cast her a look. "No he doesn't," he said. "Bear's outta a snow pile. We are rescuing him from a snow pile not putting him in one."

Michelle examined the little dog a bit more carefully, checking his paws and ears to see if there were any signs of frostbite that might make Ethan's story ring true.

"Still," her muttered at him, "your dad definitely has a vibe. And a reputation."

Ethan squinted at her. "What's that mean?"

"That the way he talks—"

Ethan cut her off. "That's just his voice. He's always sounded like that. At least since I was born."

"Not his voice," she rolled her eyes, though Hank definitely had this rasp that didn't make him any less intimating. "It's that people are scared of him," she said flatly.

Ethan let out a snort and looked back to what he was doing. "No they aren't."

"They totally are," she contended.

Ethan looked at her. "Dad's a nice guy."

"Maybe to you," she said, though she wasn't even sure she entirely believed that. Though, she supposed that some people might have trouble believing that Alvin was a super nice guy and he was despite his appearance and his initial sort of impressions and vibes he gave off."

"He is nice to me," Ethan confirmed — like he knew he needed to confirm that for anyone because like no one would believe it. Like, Michelle was sure Hank took care of Ethan and stuff, but he was definitely a super strict, hard-ass, tight-ass, grouchy-ass dad. Or at least those were her impressions of him.

"Because he's your dad," she said.

"Not all dads are nice," Ethan said.

"Yea, exactly," she agreed. "So maybe yours isn't one of the nice ones."

He glared at her. "He says only people up to no good need to be scared of him."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm pretty sure most of the Youth Boxing League is scared of him."

Ethan shrugged. "Maybe they're doing shit they shouldn't be doing then."

"Like what?" she protested.

He gave another shrug. "I don't know. Lots of people in boxing have been in juvie and stuff."

"So?" she protested. "Doesn't mean they're doing anything now. Besides. I've been in juvie. And your dad has been in jail."

"Lock up," Ethan corrected.

"It's the same thing," Michelle said.

He shook his head. "He says it's not."

"It is," she stressed at him.

He gave her a look. There was some anger to it but also some progressing and skepticism. He looked away – not commenting. Though, he pulled Bear away from her and into his lap, turning his attention to the puppy who seemed pretty happy to have it.

"Why'd he go to 'lock up' anyways?" she asked, making sure to put some sarcasm at the appropriate words.

Ethan played with Bear's ears. "He says he got really upset and stressed when the stuff was going on with Justin and he made some bad choices about how to deal with that."

"What's that mean?" Michelle spat at him.

Ethan shrugged. "I don't know. He likely hit someone important. He loses his temper like that sometimes. Then he's scary. He's not usually."

Michelle examined him a bit more carefully at that. "He hits you?"

Ethan gave her a super offended look. "NO!" he spat at her. "He'd never hit us. He just gets angry sometimes."

"And hits people?"

Ethan shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know why he was in lock up. I just know he made a bad choice when he was trying to help Justin."

"How was he trying to help your brother?" Michelle asked.

Alvin never told her anything. Which she got. It wasn't really any of her business. But she was kind of curious. Like she was curious about the other people Alvin worked with. And curious about Alvin too. She was still learning how he ticked.

"It was right before his trail and stuff," Ethan muttered.

"What'd your brother go to jail for anyways?" she asked.

"Drunk driving," Ethan muttered. "He paralyzed another kid. And he'd done some stupid stuff before that too, I guess."

"You guess?"

"I was little," Ethan said. "I don't really remember. My dad says it was just stupid teenaged stuff and him acting out after Mom died but that he protected him when he should've let Justin get more than a slap on the wrist so he learned his lesson and straightened out sooner."

"That why he's super strict with you?" Michelle asked, reaching and flopping around Bear's ears again.

"No," Ethan shrugged. "Dad was just always strict. But he's nice. It's OK."

Michelle snorted. "Yea, you likely aren't going to feel that way in like a year or two when you're in high school and he's still got all these dumb rules. Maybe you'll be keeping up the family tradition. Do you bid too."

Ethan looked at her. "Erin never went to jail. She just got arrested."

Michelle let out a laugh. But somehow she wasn't surprised. She liked Erin. She totally gave off a bad-ass vibe. "Really?"

"Yea," he muttered, "before she came to live with us. Like five or six times or something. Dad got sick of bailing her out."

"Came to live with you?"

"Yea," he muttered again, taking the thing he'd created and putting it on the floor for the puppy to look at it. He only licked it.

"So she's not like your sister?"

Ethan squinted at her. "Yes she is," he said.

"But she's like your … foster sister?"

"No, she's my sister."

"Oh … so like Hank … like me and Alvin?" she asked hesitantly.

Ethan examined her carefully at that, seeming to again to consider it and his brow creased. "No, like she lived with us before I was born and she's just always been my sister."

"Oh …" Michelle said and picked uncomfortably at the throw rug under the coffee table that Bear seemed pretty enamored with too. He was chewing on it. Hopefully he didn't pee on it.

She definitely didn't want to clean up dog pee. She'd actually been pretty worried she might end up having to clean up like Ethan pee or puke from being told that he was super sick again. But he didn't seem super sick to her. Though he looked sort of washed out and was acting pretty lethargic and tired. And he'd refused to eat anything. She'd been supposed to feed him breakfast, lunch and get him to take a nap. But he was twelve. So she'd pretty much asked if he was hungry. He said no so that was that. And she wasn't going to tell a twelve-year-old to take a nap because that was just retarded. She figured he was likely intelligent enough that if he felt that shitty, he'd go sleep. But they'd mostly just been watching Netflix and playing videogames and teasing the puppy.

She'd sort of wondered about how Erin fit in the family. Like with how things got said she'd sorta caught onto like she might've been adopted or something. But at the same time she definitely sort of looked like Hank in some ways and she sorta looked like Ethan in some ways – even though the age gap between them seemed sort of crazy. But his brother was old too. It was like totally obvious that Ethan was some sort of after-thought or accident. Or maybe if Erin was adopted or whatever, it was one of those like situations where the parents couldn't get pregnant until they adopted and then the calmed the fuck down about it all and suddenly got pregnant. Though, she was pretty sure that Justin wasn't adopted.

Ethan's family seemed kinda fucking complicated. Not that she should talk. Her family was definitely screwed up and complicated too. Though, Alvin was doing a pretty good job at making it seem less complicated and screwed up than it all was. She was pretty grateful for that – or else the whole situation would suck a whole lot more than it did. He was making it fairly easy and comfortable. In some ways things seemed way more easy and normal and comfortable than they ever had been at home with Mom.

But, somehow, asking out loud if Hank had knocked some woman up with Erin and like had an affair like Alvin had with her mom made her wonder on it a bit more too. Like clearly decent guys could do it too. Alvin had a wife and kid at home just like Hank. Though, given the outcome of everything, she guessed if that was the real story that Ethan didn't know, that Hank's wife must've been a whole lot more open and understanding than Alvin's wife had been.

She felt kinda bad for Alvin. Like sometimes she didn't. Sometimes she felt kinda angry at him for what he'd done to her mom and how he hadn't been there her whole childhood. But other times it was kinda hard to get too angry at him since he was there now when things were all fucked up and he'd royally fucked up his family with his wife and daughter by going to bat for her. And she got that was a big sacrifice. But at the same time, she was kinda glad to have him to herself. She liked him. He seemed like a real dad. Not some skeezy asshole even if he did look kind of skeezy. But he was nice. In this like muted, fix it kinda way. But she liked that too. He was very 'fix it'. Like she could totally handle her own shit but it was sort of nice to have someone as backup.

"So are you doing something with your sister tonight if you aren't coming to roller derby?" she asked – trying to change the subject because she kinda of realized that maybe she'd gone into super personal territory that she wasn't really sure Ethan had even considered and it was probably wrong anyways. Like Ethan would know that, wouldn't he? Like that kinda of family secret can't be a family secret that long when she's living with you? He was likely right. She was probably just adopted or a foster kid or whatever.

But Ethan just shrugged at her again. "Her and Jay are doing something but I guess they're going to be here for dinner."

"So you aren't doing anything?" she gaped at him.

He shrugged and looked at Bear with a small frown. "Me and Dad will watch some TV, I guess."

Michelle gazed at him and slumped back against the foot of the couch. "So why aren't you coming to roller derby?"

He gave her a glance. "Dad doesn't like me going to un-chaperoned events – especially at night. He says we can talk about it again when I'm in high school."

Michelle just gazed at him. The kid was kind of fucking coddled. "It's basically chaperoned," she said. "I mean, like everyone from Youth Boxing is going. Antonio is going to be there. With his kids."

"I don't think Antonio likes me," Ethan said.

"Sure he likes you," Michelle contended, giving him a completely unimpressed look. "Why wouldn't he like you?"

"I don't know," Ethan said. "I guess my dad."

"Your dad is his boss."

"I don't think that's what he doesn't like."

"So what doesn't he like?"

Ethan just shrugged at her. "He likes you fine," Michelle stressed. "And isn't Diego like your age? You should come and hang out with him."

Ethan shook his head. "I don't think Antonio likes that."

"Why not?"

"Bad influence or whatever," Ethan said quietly.

She rolled her eyes. "Ethan, you're like … I don't know … one of the tamest kids I've met in my life."

He gave her some side-eye that really seemed to suggest that there was more to him than she thought. Like it was about the first time she'd seen this tiny cast him that said he might be a bit darker than he seemed. That there might be some actual bad ass in him somewhere. More than his F-bombs and bumming of cigarettes. That he might have some real grit. If that was true, too bad he couldn't bring it into the boxing ring.

"My Dad doesn't want me going out until I've been on the antibiotics a few days anyways," Ethan muttered. "We aren't even going to the fireworks."

"Watching fireworks in January in Chicago would just be fucking cold," she said.

"They go up higher in the cold," he said. "It's pretty epic."

"But you're always fucking freezing," she said. "Even I hear you complain about it and I'm hardly ever around you."

He let out a little sigh. "Yea, and I'm also on crutches so what's the point of going to the fucking roller rink?" he hissed.

She watched him for a second at that. Almost felt sorta bad for him. Sometimes he really did come off as way younger than twelve. But he wasn't looking at her. The puppy had his full attention and she could kinda understand why. She kinda wanted Bear's attention too at that point and she put out her palm to try to entice him over.

"The crutches thing like permanent?" she asked carefully.

Ethan gave a nearly invisible shrug and reached to bat at Bear's tail as he came over to her.

"They don't really know yet," he said. "My foot droop got pretty bad and like they can each me exercises to help it but it doesn't really get better, I guess. But they might try a brace but they've had me in the brace before and I really didn't like it. It's all like … I don't know. Total crippled, retard."

"Forest Gump?" she suggested.

He gazed at her. "I know that's a movie but I haven't seen it."

"Your dad doesn't let you watch anything, does he?"

He shrugged. "Like educational stuff and sports."

"That's super lame," Michelle provided.

Trying to watch TV or use the internet or play videogames that morning had definitely been super lame. Hank had like child controls on everything. She didn't know why Ethan didn't just backdoor that shit. But she guessed that maybe if Hank noticed he'd be in super deep shit. Or maybe he just didn't feel up dealing with the parental unit with him just being out of the hospital and stuff.

"So are you basically going to have a super lame week since you pretty much are allowed to do fuck-all?" she asked.

She sure as fuck hoped that if the answer was 'yes' that she wouldn't be asked to babysit again – because it wasn't like she was so much asked as she was told – and she definitely didn't think she'd be being paid enough to lose out her winter break to sitting here with her thumb up her ass.

"Probably," Ethan muttered. "I mean, I've got physio and rehab stuff. And Dad says we're going into school so he can buy me new uniforms. But that's likely going to be it. He says he wants me to rest."

"You like St. Ignatius?" Michelle asked.

He shrugged. "I like it better than being in butt-fuck-no-where away from my family." She gave him a confused look. "I had to be in boarding school while my dad and Justin were away."

"Erin couldn't look after you?"

"I guess Dad didn't think so," he said with some annoyance. There was clearly more to that story too.

"But St. Ignatius … it's alright, right?" she asked again.

He let out a little sigh. "I guess," he said quietly.

She rubbed at Bear's belly while he playfully tried to nip at her wrist. "My dad says your dad can basically help him get me in there. But I don't know if I want to go."

Ethan gazed at her. "It'd be kinda cool if you were there," he offered. "Not that we'd ever see each other since you'd be over in the high school buildings."

"Buildings?" she asked.

He gave a little nod. "It's like a whole … campus. You haven't gone to see it yet?"

"Nah …" she said. She actually thought going there might kinda damage her badass reputation. She'd take flak from her old friends and she'd definitely take flak from some of the guys at boxing. Some fancy private school? Really didn't seem like her thing.

"It's nice," he said. "Like Harry Potter."

"Oh, are you allowed to watch that?" she teased.

"I've seen some of them," he conceded. "Erin and Dad read me the books when I was a kid."

"You are a kid," she put to him.

He gave her a dirty look but then softened a bit. "You should ask Erin about St. Iggy," he offered. "She only went for high school. She'd know stuff."

"Yea, but she was there forever ago," Michelle said. "You're there now."

"Just in middle school," he said. "It's different."

"How's it different?"

"I don't know," Ethan said. "It just is. Kids are mean in a different way in high school than in middle school."

"So the kids are mean?" she pressed.

He shrugged. "I don't know. They aren't like … nice. To me. But they're still nicer than at boarding school."

"Kids gave you shit at boarding school?"

He gave her a look. His pale, scarred and mangled face looking so fucking sad that it actually stung her. "Kids have treated me weird for as long as I can remember."

"Maybe because you're kinda weird, Ethan," she said.

He gave her a thin smile at her effort but he looked down at his puppy and again drew him back to him. "No," he said quietly. "I don't think that's why."

She really hoped Hank wasn't as mean as he seemed sometimes because the way Ethan was holding Bear, it pretty much seemed like he was the only friend he had.

There was a crash at the door and it opened to stomping boots. Ethan didn't stir, though Bear let out an excited yelp as Erin stuck her head into the living room.

"Hey," she greeted with a smile. Ethan didn't even look at her and his sister frowned at him, her brow creasing as she shifted her gaze to Michelle.

Michelle rose from where she was sitting on the ground and padded over to the front hallway. Alvin was loitering there, giving her a little nod. She wondered what they'd do that afternoon before the roller party started. Maybe she could go over to the gym for a bit. But maybe if Alvin offered up a bit option, that could be fun too. She hadn't gotten to spend that much time with him over the holidays and in a way she kind of wanted to. Or at least more than she got. Not like every day, 24/7 or anything.

"He OK?" Erin asked quietly, still looking into the living room and Ethan still not having acknowledged her arrival.

"Yea, I think he's just … tired and stuff," Michelle said. She knew that was pretty much a lie. She'd gotten Ethan thinking about things he didn't want to think about and feeling like the weirdo little freak that he was and wasn't. And, fuck, even if he was a weirdo little freak, the kid needed some friends. Like more than a dog even though Bear was pretty awesome and she was kinda jealous.

But Erin just gave a little nod at that and crossed her arms, examining Ethan, while Michelle put on her boots and retrieved her coat. She'd already said bye and started to head for the door before the woman stirred.

"Oh …" she said and shoved her hand into her pocket, retrieving a wad of bills and holding them out to her.

Michelle instinctively reached for it – cash was cash and she always wanted and needed it. But she stopped before she could grab it and looked down and then away, giving Alvin a glance. She shook her head while Erin raised a questioning eyebrow.

"It's like you're paying me to be his friend," she said and looked in at the kid. He was a nice enough kid even if he was an annoying little weirdo freak. "You don't have to pay me to be his friend."

Erin looked at her. "Hank wants to pay you for babysitting," she tried.

But Michelle just shook her head again and moved toward where Al was standing just inside the door. "I wasn't babysitting," she mumbled as she put her hand on the door. "We were just hanging out." She gave Erin a glance. "Let me know if he wants to hang out again this week."

Erin gave her a thin smile. "I will," she said. "I think he might like that."

Michelle shrugged. "Maybe," she agreed and pushed open the door and started down the few steps. She could feel Erin and Alvin sharing a look before he followed after her, pulling the door closed behind him.

But the truth was, she wasn't sure Ethan would want to hang out with her again right away. But she sorta thought maybe she wouldn't mind chilling with him, if he did.


	24. Smokehouse

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Erin glanced over at Jay as she realized he was staring at her in an effort to get her attention. She'd been pretty transfixed on Ethan.

He was actually eating. Really eating - and happily. It hadn't been a battle. He'd actually put his own food on his plate and was smilingly chomping away on his smoked chicken – completely oblivious to the fact he was being stared at because he was transfixed by Bear at his feet and knee.

The puppy had definitely realized he was Ethan's dog and was already cluing into that the smaller person was the best one to get a whole lot of attention from. And food.

Ethan kept putting his fingers down for the puppy to lick. It was kind of disgusting seeing as he was going right back to eating and licking at his own fingers as he went between bites. But no one was saying anything. Not even Hank. Surprising. Seeing as Hank seemed pretty obsessed with Ethan's immune system and the potential for infection and inflammation entering his son's body anymore. Erin was pretty damn sure that dog spit likely was a pretty good vehicle for that kinda thing. But likely so was dog shit and dog dander and dog air and just generally having an animal in the house, period. So, it was probably sort of best they all just ignored that fact or else Bear likely wasn't going to get to live with them very long. And, then Erin would feel like a complete heel for having brought Bear into Ethan's life only for him to end up being something that got torn away from him. Again.

But Hank wasn't saying anything. He actually seemed pretty engrossed in watching his son eat too.

Honestly, Erin was just happy Hank was packing away some food too. A full meal. And that the meal wasn't being spent listening to him negotiate (or threaten) Ethan about getting some nutrients into him. Despite the amount of time she'd ended up spending with Hank and Ethan that month – or even that summer and fall – she really hadn't witnessed him eating a full meal. And, Hank used to be a bit of an eater. He knew his food. He liked his food. He was a bit of a foodie. Not that he'd ever want to be given that label. But some sort of old school label was likely pretty much him. Or at least home chef and grill master with some sort of alcohol consignor mixed in there too.

And, considering the fuss Hank had put up about the smokehouse take-out that Jay had brought over, she was also pretty happy he was eating it and not being an ass about the whole thing. It had looked like he was going to be an ass. He was already pissed off at her for not giving Michelle the babysitting money. Like she was supposed to shove it on the kid? If the kid didn't want the money, she didn't want the money. End of story. But then to be told that Jay was bringing over dinner -when Hank had shown up with bags of groceries for the next few meals – the glare had been epic. Those eyes of steel that clearly depicted how unimpressed he was with that.

It'd only gotten worse. He'd tried to pay Jay back for the food. The smokehouse wasn't exactly cheap either. Hank knew that and he was trying to shove quite the wad of cash at Jay. Jay was being just as stubborn as Hank – keeping his hands in his pocket and refusing to accept it as Hank gave him as steely glare as she got. She'd finally stepped in and taken the money from Hank just to stop the standoff. It would've completely derailed the night if they all sat there fucking glaring at each other and not talking over some fucking smoked meat. Besides, even though she knew that Hank wouldn't take the money back, she was at the house enough and contributing to the groceries and cooking enough that it'd just end up back in his pocket indirectly anyways. He likely knew that – even if none of them were going to acknowledge it.

She understood where Hank was coming from. He was militant about providing for his family. Ethan was his kid. His son. His responsibility. His problem. He was the one who kept a roof over his head and got the meals on the table. She'd heard his take on it before. She got it. She could understand it. Hank was a provider. He was a protector. He was a man and a father – and the head of the household. He was sometimes infuriating traditional and old-fashioned that way. Sometimes she wondered how Camille had ever put up with that. Then she'd stop and realize that Jay was the same in a lot of ways and it made her wonder what the hell she'd gotten herself into. If they ended up having a family was this the man that Jay would become? Was she somehow marrying her father? People said a lot of women ended up doing that. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

Thing was, she understood where Jay was coming from in the standoff too. She hated when Hank shoved money at her too. It was funny because when she was a teenager she'd begged money off him so much – first to get herself out of situations or to bail her mom out of situations. Then after she ended up living with them – and gotten over herself in the whole 'taking care of herself' thing and not wanting to even take lunch money from them – she'd gotten on the whole allowance bandwagon pretty quickly to try to keep up with all the Richie Riches at St. Ignatius and get to go out to the parties and the movies and the dinner and the dancing and the stylish clothes and make-up and everything else. None of which she could really afford on her allowance and resulted in a whole lot of whining to Hank and Camille about 'needing' more money and taking on more chores or wanting a part-time job and all sorts of discussions and conflicts about money and its value and things that were and weren't acceptable to be spending money on and ways that were and weren't acceptable to be getting money. She hadn't exactly been a cakewalk for Hank and Camille even if she knew she wanted to be there. But now that she was an adult – and on a detective's salary, and nearly 30 fucking years old – she really hated it when he tried to hand her money. Like she couldn't afford to pick up a box of the cereal that Ethan liked or to pay for them to eat take-out or manage to pick up the bill for a Saturday of having her brother out doing something. It pissed her off. It was insulting. It infantilized her. And she was sure that was exactly how Jay was feeling. Only he was a guy – who was now engaged to her and supposedly 'looking after her' – so she was sure he found it that much more insulting coming from Hank. She was also sure he'd go on a little rant about it at her the first chance he got.

So that made her a little less inclined to make their departure. But she'd promised Jay that they'd got and chaperone Will and Nataile. It didn't sound like a New Year's Eve that was much more interesting than sitting around with Hank and Ethan. But she'd promised. So she was just biting the bullet. The whole thing seemed kind of stupid. Even if Will was stupid enough to try to bed Dr. Manning, the woman was like two weeks away from her due date for the child of her dead husband who hadn't even been gone nine months. There was no way that woman – sober woman – was going to be interested in Will that night. And if he did anything stupid, he'd just be ruining his chances of him ever having a chance. Not to mention seriously fucking up a friendship with a woman who could definitely use some friends and support. But based on the limited amount that Jay shared about Will, he tended to make some questionable choices and blunders when it came to women and relationships. Thankfully, he didn't seem to make as many when it came to medical treatments and surgery. Though, he still had a bit of a chip on his shoulder about all of that too that tended to rub both her and Hank the wrong way.

So even though she didn't really want to, she rose from the table and reached for Jay's plate. He handed it across the table to her, and she glanced at Hank's. He'd cleaned it too but he hadn't tossed his napkin on top of it yet, which usually indicated he wasn't done.

"You done, Hank?" she asked anyways.

He pulled his eyes away from his intent examination of Ethan. He looked at her blankly for a moment and his eyes moved back to the serving plate and the containers of various sidedishes and condiments scattered around the table. They'd done a pretty good job at putting a dent in it all considering the amount of food Jay had brought. Apparently he couldn't decide what to get – so he'd pretty much gotten some of everything, including nearly every sidedish. His explaination was that "Ethan's as picky as fuck. I didn't know what he'd eat." He had a point. Between Ethan being a finicky eater and all the dietary restrictions with this anti-inflamation diet they were supposed to have him on, knowing what to get could be as complicated as fuck. Still, Erin didn't want to actually know what a bill that covered brisket, pulled pork, pork ribs, smoked chicken, a lengthy list of ample sides looked like. She suspected that even if Jay had accepted Hank's cash, it might not have covered it all.

Hank gazed at the couple ribs still left sitting amid things. He'd already had a couple but he'd mostly stuck with the brisket, knowing that it'd be something Ethan wouldn't touch at all. He grunted and made a vague gesture at what was left, though.

It was wordless. But Erin was pretty good at speaking Hank sounds. Ethan was eating still. He seemed most enthralled with the chicken but he had had a rib. So Hank was waiting to see if his son was going to put away anymore before he took another helping of his own. Again, he was doing the dad provider-protector thing. Making sure his kids were taken care of before he bothered taking care of himself. But Erin thought Hank needed to take care of himself a little more than he did most days – and she was pretty happy he'd eaten a full meal too and apparently was interested in having a bit more.

"Eth," she said and he looked at her, still chewing away. "You going to want more ribs?"

He shook his head and went back to looking down at Bear on the floor and gnawing on his drumstick. So Erin reached and rather unceremoniously dropped the ribs into Hank's plate, then reached to take that empty plate instead. He gave her an unimpressed look but she just nodded at the food.

"You're hungry," she said flatly. He'd either eat them or he wouldn't. But she was going to clear the table and they could sit on his plate while she did.

She started to gather some of the empty sides containers, placing the last remaining pickle on Ethan's plate. He'd eaten through most of them on his own too. But he gave her a longer look as she did it.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Clearing the table," she muttered at him.

"Why?" he said.

"To help out before we take off," she said.

Ethan's eyes got bigger. "But, you said you'd watch the first movie with us! You said you liked Indiana Jones!"

She sighed at him and just reached for another container to add to her teetering pile. Good thing she'd spent that year she'd waffled around about what she was going to do with her life after high school waitressing. Otherwise, it was highly likely that these plates would be on the floor and she'd have a bigger mess to clean up.

"Eth, you wanted to play boardgames before dinner. We did that instead," she said.

He gaped at her. "YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THAT!"

She gave him a look. She wasn't going to deal with an Ethan whine or guilt trip that night. She'd been spending a ridiculous amount of time with him lately. She loved him. She wanted to be there for him and Hank. But she also wanted a New Year's Eve that didn't involve a twelve-year-old and a night alone with Jay. Some time to herself. She only got so much of that anymore. Being Ethan's big sister had pretty much become a full-time job outside of her full-time job.

"Ethan, it's nearly eight. Me and Jay need to go and get ready for our New Year's party," she put to him flatly and then turned on her heel to take the dishes to the kitchen.

Hank was staying completely uninvolved in this conversation. So much so that he'd decided to actually start eating the ribs – clearly indicating this was her own battle. Seemed like it was a decent plan – because she could feel Ethan glaring at Jay across the table.

"You aren't even going to a party," he said. "You're just going to Dr. Halstead's house."

"He's having a party," Jay said. Or rather – lied.

Erin definitely wouldn't count her, Jay, Will and Natalie as a party. She'd likely label it as a kind of fucked up non-starter that she didn't really want to attend so Jay better manage this because otherwise Ethan's whining and Indiana Jones might just win out.

Ethan huffed and looked at Hank. "See," he said. "Now it's always just going to be us."

Erin rolled her eyes as she came back to the dining room table. "I'm sure here a hell of a lot for it to 'always just' be you guys," she said.

Ethan shot Jay another look. "You should spend New Year's with family," he said.

"Well, we kinda are," Jay tried. "Will's my family."

"You already got Christmas Eve with him!" Ethan protested.

"Yeah, and we spent Christmas with you," Jay said.

"Hmm …," Hank finally piped up between mouthfuls and leaned over the back of his chair to look after her into the kitchen. "You two coming back here for dinner tomorrow?"

Erin paced back into the dining room and leaned against the entrance. "Dinner or to go to the levee?" she asked.

Hank shook his head and made a dismissive gesture. "Not going to the levee this year."

Ethan's gaping face flew in his direction. "WHAT?! But that's the only time you let me go to the social club!"

Hank gave him a sterner look. "You're too sick to be out around people with that pneumonia and there won't be nuttin' there you can eat anyway."

Ethan pouted. "But I could play pool …"

Hank just grunted at that. But Erin gave Hank a sympathetic look. Even though Erin knew that Hank didn't much like his family in his social club too much, they'd always been allowed in on the New Year's Day gathering. It was about the only day of the year that they were welcomed. That they got a glimpse into the place Hank had grown-up bumming around and running errands. Where his father had made connections and Hank had made his own that had established as a valuable member of the CPD. He knew all of the players in the city, perhaps more than he should. Especially the old school ones. The former generation. And even as a teen there'd been some mystique in getting to enter that building for that brunch and lavish spreads of food and drink in such a dingey setting. It was tradition. One that had gone on for years. One that was part of their family life. It was something they all looked forward too – even Hank. And apparently Ethan too. It was a glimpses of something else about their father. It was a special event. A special day.

"Hank," she sighed. "I can come over and watch him so you can go."

He shook his head again and started to bring his rib back up to his mouth. "Take your hangover day."

"I don't think there's going to be much drinking at this thing," she said, casting a look at Jay for confirmation.

"Yea … I doubt it," he said.

But Hank only shrugged. "Take your day," he muttered between swallows – like he'd read her mind about just wanting some time to herself and with Jay. "Come over for dinner, if you feel up to it."

Erin eyed him. "What's for dinner?" she asked.

"Going to go traditional," he said.

She knew that meant he'd be cooking his mother's idea of a New Year's meal – which she supposed had become her idea of one over the years. But it meant it was going to be European – Austrian or German influenced … pork and legumes and greens and sauerkraut – and that Hank would likely spend a chunk of the day puttering around in the kitchen. But sometimes that seemed to be when he was at his most content. It was sort of weird.

Erin looked at Jay and he sort of shrugged. He likely wanted some time alone too. A whole day without Hank or Ethan in it. Those were hard to come by anymore. And they'd already talked about trying to coax Hank into letting them take Ethan to a movie on the weekend, so if they didn't take New Year's to themselves, they might not get one.

"Yea … maybe," Erin said.

Hank cast her a look – clearly measuring her response. But she thought he understood. Ethan, however, did not. He let out another long sigh.

"See … it's always just gonna be us now at everything," he said.

"You've got the dog," Hank said. "Not just us."

Ethan cast Erin a look. "Be careful or I might decide I like Bear better than you if you're never here," he said.

She snorted at him and turned to go back to the kitchen again. Maybe he'd missed the part of the plan where he was supposed to get so attached to the dog that he didn't need her quite as much as he thought he needed her now. He had Bear for a reason. So if he wanted to threaten her with falling in love with that puppy – let him.

"Happy New Year to you too, Ethan," she muttered.

That was part of the plan too. The new year had to be better than the past one. So far at least it was shaping up to be an interesting one.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Please read and review. I appreciate feedback. Also, just letting you know that there's still two "New Year's Eve" chapters that I want to do — a Lindsay/Halstead/Halstead/Manning scene and a Hank/Ethan scene — but I think the next chapter might jump a bit and I'll come back to it. We'll see. It might also backtrack a lot because I've still been wanting to do the Hank/Camille scene. Sort of wish I had done it sooner because I know I'm going to hate tomorrow night's CPD. So predictable and an unnecessary "twist" that they've set-up for that.**


	25. On Repeat

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

***** **AUTHOR NOTE: This chapter comes before Force Awakens. I'll reorder the chapters after I've caught up with the writing of the NYE and the Jay/Ethan one-on-one. For now, check the note and hopefully don't get too confused. ********

Hank pulled his eyes away from the rolling credits and looked down the couch at his baby boy. For all the back-and-forth they'd had all week about what they'd marathon on New Year's Eve – there wasn't even going to be a marathon at all. Magoo hadn't even made it through the first movie by the time they'd put it on. He was pretty sure Ethan had fallen asleep even before Indy had fallen into the pit with all those snakes – Magoo's favorite scene.

Hank hadn't woke him. His boy needed his rest. Big time. Kid was too stubborn to have taken a nap during the day and even though Hank could see some of the light coming back into his eyes and color to his skin, he knew Magoo's weakened body was still waging a battle against the pneomnia even with the help of the antibiotics. He needed to take it easy. Slow down. So his son was as back on his feet as he could get him before Monday rolled around and he had to throw him back into the cesspool that was middle school. Even the preppy, Catholic, private ones. The fucking M.S. was always going to have his kid at little rundown – even on his good days – and the fucking traumatic brain injury was always going to mean his boy was never going to compete academically or mentally in quite the same way as the rest of the kids. So the best Hank could do at the moment was just make sure he was as rested and prepared as possible for starting in on the winter term. Back at it again. Getting him through school—and puberty and adolescence and young adulthood – was going to be such a long haul. Maybe he was getting too old for all of this. He'd be in his sixties before Magoo even graduated high school. Scary thought.

He'd thought a bit about age and time watching the damn movie. Hadn't bothered to turn it off and go do his own thing even after he'd spotted Ethan sleeping and that dog curled right up with him giving off little puppy snores.

He remembered seeing the movie. Indiana Jones and the Lost Art. In the theaters for God's sake. With Camille. They must've been all of 20 years old. He remembered that it must've been in the period where they were on-again-off-again but leaning toward on-again – and really on-again – after taking their sorta-sideways time apart while she did the college thing.

They'd never really been that apart. Just seemed like a sort of necessary thing for them to take a bit of a break after high school and explore what else was out there. Or, maybe it was more he'd gotten on his high horse about her going to do her schooling when that just hadn't been in the cards for him. He did the school of life thing. College wasn't something he could afford. He'd likely decided she was too good for him. Or at least to be dating him. Or that he didn't want some educated college girl on his arm. That it'd be emasculating in some way. She must've humored him. Or maybe she just wanted the break from him too.

They still saw each other, though. As friends. Maybe more than friends. Obviously more than friends eventually. They'd likely just been lying to themselves about just being friends. But they also weren't. Camille had always been his best friend. Since they were kids. She was on the list of best things that ever happened to him. Damn good thing she was around when Dad died. Hank didn't want to think about the person he would've become if she hadn't been there.

All of fifteen and still this old soul and so much emotionally mature than him to deal with all of that. He knew how to help his mom – to be the son and the man of the house. But he hadn't known how to mourn or how to let himself mourn. How to grieve. Who to talk to. He didn't think he was allowed. Camille had helped him with all those things. Given him that person to talk to. As much as he talked. Or at least that person to be with. Sometimes talking was overrated. Being able to sit in a room with someone and not say a word but still give and receive comfort. That sure counted for a whole lot.

Funny thing was he still wished he had here now to show him how to mourn and grieve now. Her. He still didn't know how to do that. Didn't much know who or how to talk to about it. Maybe that's why he wasn't ready to move on. Maybe he'd never be quite ready to move on. Maybe he didn't want to.

She was his one and only. She always would be. He'd just found her early in life and lost her early too. But it was funny how life worked. At least he was lucky to have found her and had her at all. She'd made him a better person. Man. Father. She still did in a lot of ways. Her not being there had forced him to grow – to become better at being a man and a father to his children – because of her absence. And she'd left behind Magoo.

God knows how he fucking survived that crash. Hank knew that it was a medical miracle. A miracle they were able to peal him off the pavement. A miracle he didn't flatlined on the way to the hospital. That he'd pulled through that first night. He'd awoken from that coma. And that he wasn't a vegetable. That he was walking and talking and had most of his factuality intact, even if he was a little scattered. A little different. Hank just labeled it was him being Ethan now. Wasn't better or worse than the kid he was before that night – he was just Ethan. He was what was left behind. And Hank liked to think that Camille had a bit to do with that. She'd put up some sort of negotiation with whatever's on the other side. She'd go along but Magoo had to stay.

Hank was glad for that. He again wasn't sure who'd he be if he'd lost Camille and his baby boy. Any of his kids. But losing both at the same time. Deep down he knew he likely would've gone off the deep-end. No one can prepare you for losing your wife – not when it's not in your old age. But losing a child?

He'd had a very real glimpse of what that could be like. He'd had the fear and the anguish. The struggle to get his little boy back. Actually losing him would've been too much. As much pain as there had been in the hours and days and weeks and months after the crash – he still didn't want to imagine how crushing actually losing his son would've been. In a way, Ethan being so badly hurt had been the only thing that made Hank pull through because he had something else to focus his energy on. To fight for. To keep him from drowning in the grief and rage over the loss of Camille.

And even now, he knew in a lot of ways Ethan was still that distraction to keep him focused on what he was supposed to be doing as a family man and a father – not just a cop. To still be there for his kids and not just check out and bury himself in the work and the city. Even though that was still an instinct he turned back to and had to strive to remind himself that it was wrong and a disserve to himself and his children – and ultimately to the CPD and the city.

Camille had left that with him too. Another part of Ethan she'd provided. While somehow making sure she'd injected as much of her genetics into the kid as she could. She had always argued not. Even when Ethan was a little boy, she'd said he looked more like Hank than her. She'd pull out the photo albums at his Mom's house to prove. Point at the freckles and insist that she was so sure that Magoo was going to have his stature. And poor little fucker, looked like she was probably right on that. But the important parts – the nose, the lips, the ears (or at least the one his boy got to keep), the goldilocks and those fucking eyes of his – those were his wife's. All his wife's. Sometimes it was still disconcerting when he caught Ethan staring or glaring at him. Because it was Camille who was looking at him. He could feel it. Looking right through him through their boy's eyes. It was worse when Ethan got that frightened or hopeless look and though Hank had seen fear and sadness in his wife's eyes at times. That he'd comforted her. There was something about the look that Ethan got that was so familiar but so foreign and Hank's heart tugged in the fear that it'd been that look – the frightened, hopelessness – that had filled Camille's eyes in those final moments.

Her mind, though, was likely the biggest thing she'd passed on to Ethan. It wasn't going to grow and expand the way that her and him had chatted about when Magoo was still so little and his teachers were already talking to them about him being gifted and wanting to do extra testing or get him into a special program. They didn't talk about "special programs" the same way anymore. As much as Hank had been interested in talking about them ad nauseam when his kid was in pre-school and kindergarten and breezing through the first grade with a yawn of boredom – now he prickled every time these "special programs" got brought up. Because they weren't the same thing.

But Hank still got glimpses of those smarts of his wife – the academic tendencies – buried in Magoo. He had natural inclinations. He could be a sponge about certain types of information. And he still saw twinges of his wife's passions and interests in the things that caused his kid to go all motor-mouthed too.

Hank was sure it'd been Camille who would've picked Indiana Jones as the movie they went to all those years ago. Anthropology. Archeology. Paleontology. Digging in the dirt and mucking around in the water. That was all her. Maybe that's why he liked her so much. Or maybe she'd just chosen it because it was the latest Spielberg – and she'd thought he'd sit through it without much objection. Because friends go to movies. Couples … they don't do as much watching of the movies. In his experience. "Netflixing and chill" or whatever the fuck his kids were calling it now. More things change – the fucking less they did.

Hadn't just sat through Indiana Jones that night, though. That was another funny realization he'd had while watching the damn thing. He was sure he and Camille had likely seen all three of the flicks as they came out. But he'd also watched them with his kids. All of them. Age gaps did that. Sometimes it felt like he kept repeating certain rites of passage over and over again with his kids. Get one through it only for the other to catch up and for them all to have to go through it all over again.

He'd had a bit of a moment where he'd thought this might be one of the last times he'd have to sit through the Indy movies with his kids. But then realized that now Henry was on the scene. Age gap between him and Ethan was 'bout the same as what there'd been between Magoo and Justin. He wondered if it'd only be a matter of time before Henry and Popa were on the couch watching these damn movies again. And then if Erin brought him home a grandkid or two, he might end up doing some of it all over again too.

He wasn't sure if that made him feel old or it made him happy. This continuance. Ongoing family. Their future. He thought Camille would like that. Be so smitten to see where their kids were at now. Erin engaged and a good cop – all cleaned up. Justin on the straight edge and with that grandbaby, even if he still had some growing up left to do of his own. And Ethan. Even with all his struggles, Hank thought Camille would be pretty tickled with him. How couldn't she be? She'd wanted that other baby to add to their family for so long. Sometimes Hank wondered if she'd wanted that baby more for him than for herself. Maybe he'd wanted and needed that baby more than he'd known at the time too. Sure felt that way now.

He scrubbed at his face a bit from his examination of Magoo. But then he reached and shook his boy's foot a bit, squeezing gently at his toes. His feet didn't work so good and sometimes his neuropathy down there was bad enough that you had to give it a pretty good jolt before he knew you were even touching him.

Ethan gave a little moan and squirmed around a bit before slitting open his eyes. "Is it New Year's?" he muttered.

"Not yet," Hank told him.

Another little groan and him trying to roll over only to realize that the puppy was cuddled up to him and staring at it instead.

"Wanna head up to bed?" Hank suggested.

He wasn't sure he was hopeful about Magoo agreeing to really go down for the night. Hank wasn't sure how much he just wanted to be sitting alone in the house. Never much liked that. Hadn't done much good for him. It usually just got him thinking too much about the past. Wasn't good to dwell. No matter how much he missed Camille and missed those years when they had three kids at home. Missed when they had Justin and Erin as full of beans, little hellions to manage. When they were a family.

They still were now. More than they had been for a while. They were getting there. Learning to live in their new normals. But that didn't make things too much easier some days. Especially around the holidays. Especially around New Year's when it's time to be thinking about past and future. And when in the past he would've been out at friend's with his wife. Or they'd have people over. When they'd seal off the year and start the new one with a kiss and resolutions and high hopes for what was to come.

Hank supposed that year he got to kiss his kid on the head or pretend he was excited about that puppy. Thing would likely kiss him, if he let it.

"I wanna watch the movies," Ethan mumbled at him.

"Magoo, you just slept through the flick," Hank told him.

Ethan looked at him more tentatively. "All of them?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

Hank's eyes kept his. "Just the first one. You still got two more."

"Three," Ethan corrected, some how much more awake.

"Fourth one is a piece of garbage," Hank said. "I ain't sitting through that one."

Ethan squinted at him. "What time is it?"

Hank glanced at his watch. "Ten-fifty. You don't got time to fit in another one before midnight. You'll have to watch the rest tomorrow or over the week." Ethan let out a little groan and crossed his arms – more over top the puppy than his chest. But Hank just nudged at his leg again. "C'mon. You're tired. Lets get you upstairs where it's warmer."

"It's not New Year's yet," Ethan protested, showing no interested in budging.

Hank gave him a little sigh and gazed at his watch again. He was sick of sitting around thinking. Didn't like getting too lost in his thoughts. Made him all melancholy. And, unless he had a glass in front of him, he didn't feel much like being melancholy.

"Wanna go see the fireworks?" he put to Ethan.

His boy's eyes snapped to him at that. It was the answer but he still did the typical kid thing. "I thought you said I was too sick," he said with the kind of tone that only a teen could pull off and just made you want to whack them up the side of the head.

But Hank didn't. Never did as much as he wanted to more than once in Ethan's lifetime and likely only would want to more as the kid aged through the next five or six years. Or ten or fifteen if his older two were any indication.

"We'll get you bundled up," Hank said. "Not going to the pier. We'll go sit in the car out at the planetarium. Northerly. See what we can see."

Ethan acted like he had to think about it. Hank didn't think there was much to think about. Kid had a thing for fireworks.

"Can Bear come?" he asked.

Hank sighed but nodded. "Yea, sure," he allowed and started to get up.

Might as well get used to it. Dog was going to be family now. Family stuck together. Even through the rough patches.

"C'mon," he said and pointed toward the stairs. "Let's go see how many layers we can get on you."


	26. Fireworks

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

***** **AUTHOR NOTE: This chapter comes before Force Awakens. I'll reorder the chapters after I've caught up with the writing of the NYE and the Jay/Ethan one-on-one. For now, check the note and hopefully don't get too confused. ********

Hank spread the folded blanket over the hood of the Escalade and then turned and thrust his hands under his kid's armpits and raised him up to set into place. Ethan gave him a weak, embarrassed smile as he settled and was released, the heels of his boots kicking against the grill.

"Don't do that," Hank rasped gently. "Don't wanna get the front-end damaged."

Magoo gave him a small look but stopped the movement, gazing down at the ground where the dog was stumbling around.

"Bear …" he said, pointing like a near toddler.

But Hank just nodded and bent to scoop up the dog too – settling him in his son's lap. The little thing seemed pretty unsure about the snow. Didn't blame it. There was a whole fucking lot of it that year for a thing that small to be trying to navigate in. Lil pup was pretty much covered and shivering by the time he picked him up. Beyond that the little fucker was probably going to have some sort of PTSD about the cold of winter after what that fucking asshole had done to that litter. The critter was lucky that someone found them and had a heart and then managed to melt a few more hearts along the way to get him set up in their home.

Hank wasn't exactly ready to pretend he was onboard with this dog thing yet. Still had his apprehensions about it. Still fucking wished that Erin had talked to him about it before arbitrary making this decision on behalf of the family. A fucking decision that was going to have a whole lot more implications for him than it was her – even if he laid down the law that she brought it into the house, she was the one who was going to be picking up Ethan's slack with caring for the damn thing. And there was going to be slack. Ethan was just a kid. He'd never had so much as a goldfish. He didn't know shit about taking care of a pet. Beyond that getting this thing out for walks and picking up its shit – Magoo was definitely at least going to need help with that in the winter. But maybe the thing could work as some motivation to get him going out more and using those muscles and legs of his. Retraining them and strengthening them – rather than the wallowing about the stumbles and fumbles that'd become part of his daily life. But it was going to be hard that winter. Whole lot of snow and ice for a little puppy and a little boy just learning how to navigate with crutches and a drooped foot. And that wasn't even getting into the mess and clean-up chores the animals was going to bring into his tidy home. It was all going to be something.

Hopefully the pay off was going to be that Magoo and this dog would create a bond. That it'd be a kind of therapy for his boy. A commitment and a responsibility – but also a friend and a bright light. Hopefully the good outweighed all the hassles. Hank was willing to take that risk. He knew his boy needed something. So they'd start with this and see how it went.

Hank leaned against the front-end of the car next to his boy and his boy's dog. Crossed his arms and gazed ahead. The fireworks were going to be some off in the distance with their location but they had a decent view of the city. He liked seeing his city lit up. Stirred something in him. Should be able to see whatever spectactle they were setting off at the big new shindig the city was hosting in the downtown. Though, he doubted the fireworks would be exploding as high as out over the water off the pier. Likely should've looked into when each of the shows were setting their pyrotechnics off. He figured midnight but he supposed it also likely didn't make much sense for both events to be shooting them into the sky at the same time.

Either way, though, he didn't think they'd missed the show. There were enough people who'd had the same idea as them. Snag a spot away from the crowds and away from the tourists. Though, not as many people as some years. But it'd been a while since they'd been out that way on New Year's.

Last couple years he'd actually taken Ethan out to the pier. Bit of a mea culpa about boarding school. Show him a bit of a good time while he was home for the holidays. Take him out to Winterfest. Whip around the skating rink a few times. Let him bounce his beans out on the jumping castles. Do a round of fucking mini golf with him before the inevitably ended up at the Children's Museum waiting out the fireworks and Magoo would sit in the fucking sandpit doing the fake dinosaur excavation. They'd started taking him to that when he was still in diapers and it hadn't been until that year that he'd finally expressed he was too old for the Children's Museum. Had graduated to bigger and better things. Though, Hank had mostly been letting Erin manage those outings. But looking around the site right now, he'd realized they hadn't got his boy to the planetarium yet and it might be something he was maturing into taking something out of at that point.

Hank figured that some of the usual types that'd stake out a spot over here on New Year's had likely decided to check out what the big to-do was in this whole trying to be Times Square bullshit they had going on downtown. Others had likely just come to the conclusion that it was way to fucking cold that New Year's to be standing around outside for a fucking firework show that paled in comparison to what the city put on for the Fourth of July. They were staying up near the row of parked cars along the street behind the planetarium and there was still enough of a wind coming off the water. Some chilled looking parents had scrambled down the hill with their kids to get closer to the lakeshore. But Hank wasn't convinced that gave a better view. Just send your balls crawling farther inside you is all.

"You warm enough?" he asked Ethan.

Ethan nodded. "Yea …" he muttered.

Looked like he was more focused on trying to warm up the puppy than he was concerned about his own core temperature. But Hank had fucking bundled him up. Had him in the heated hoodie and socks. The long johns on. Thermals. Lined jeans. And then all his winter gear on top of it. Technically, his boy was just about a walking sauna. Not that Ethan's body ever seemed to register that anymore.

Still, Hank rounded back to the driver's door and popped it open, leaning across the seat to retrieve the thermos of hot cocoa. Literal hot cocoa. It was fucking dutch-oven baking cocoa – not dark chocolate – and almond milk. It didn't much taste like hot cocoa to Hank. He doubted it did to Ethan either – but he seemed to drink it. And Hank had learned the best way to get Magoo to eat or drink anything these days was just to pretend that it tasted fine and that this fucking diet was completely normal and not a fucking hassle at all.

He poured out a cup and handed it to his boy and then poured his own – even though he'd pretty much prefer an Irish Coffee or Hot Toddy or pretty much anything other than this hot beverage. Then he just went back to leaning against the SUV as they both clutched at their mugs, heating their hands and taking slow sips while they waited out the countdown to midnight.

"Hear your brother was adding new words to your vocabulary," Hank broached after they sat in silence for a few minutes. The pup exploring the hood and nuzzling into Hank's elbow. Ethan gave him a confused look. "Fuck buddies," he put to him flatly.

"Oh …" Ethan said and looked away.

Hank settled against the hood a bit more, watching his boy. "Halstead told me you were asking some about what that meant."

Ethan gave a little shrug. "He told me," he said. "Sorta. And I looked it up."

"Hmm …" Hank grunted and stood for a minute. "You got more to say or ask 'bout that?"

Ethan gave him a glance. "Not really."

Hank gave a small nod. "Don't think Jay and Erin much like you thinking of them on those terms. I don't either."

Ethan looked at him. "But it's kinda what they are."

Hank shook his head. "It's not, kiddo. You don't go and get engaged to a fuck buddy."

"OK … but maybe they like used to be …" Ethan suggested.

Hank let out a sigh and looked back at the cityscape for a long beat. "Maybe," he conceded. "But that really ain't none of our business. And they aren't fuck buddies anymore. They're gonna be man and wife. So, I don't think any of us want to hear you talking about them that way again."

"You said the same thing basically," Ethan interjected and Hank's eyes moved to his son. "That Jay's violating her."

Hank gave him a steely stare and let that sit with him for a long moment. He then rubbed at his temple and looked down at his heavy boots that definitely weren't made for standing in his kind of snow. Steel toes and Chicago winters weren't made for each other – no matter how much of a man you were. He finally made himself look at Ethan again, letting out a bit of a repressed sigh.

"You know how we talk about part of being a man is fessing up to your mistakes?" he put to his boy.

"Yeah …" Ethan allowed carefully.

Voight gave a little nod. "I spoke outta place saying that, Eth. I should've never said that out loud and I definitely shouldn't have said it in front of you. I fucked up. And I really regret using those words and that's not the way I want you thinking about their relationship either."

Ethan looked at him with such little boy eyes but such a young man behind them too. A processing and absorbing. Really taking in that that had been put out there.

"But why'd you say it then?" Ethan asked timidly.

Hank let out a sigh and shrugged, shaking his head. "You know, a lot of the times when I look at your sister, I still see my little girl. Just like when I look at you I still see my baby boy. Erin's my daughter. You're my youngest. It just is what it is. But Erin ain't a little girl anymore and you ain't a baby. And as protective as I feel about you guys – I need to let you grow up and make your own decisions and your own mistakes. I was being overly protective of my little girl instead of being respectful of my grown daughter. And that was wrong."

Ethan kept watching him, processing more, before adding quietly, "But I don't really like Jay doing that stuff to her either."

Voight let out a little repressed laugh and shook his head in his amusement, going back to looking at his feet and kicking around the snow to try to create a clear patch to stand in.

"Well, Magoo, reality is that sex is a part of relationships. And, in relationships – the right kind of ones – their ain't no violation going on. Erin's an active participant. Jay's not doing anything to her that she's not consenting to."

"I still don't like it," Ethan said.

Hank cast him a little smile. "Don't have to like it," he said. "Just need to accept that it's a fact of life and beyond that it ain't none of our business."

"But it is if Erin has a baby," Ethan provided.

Hank let out a snort. "Well, that'd be a bit of a confirmation that they're sleeping together. But pretty sure we already know that and don't think it makes it anymore of our business."

Ethan let a small huff and looked across the water. "I still don't like it," he reaffirmed, reaching to pull Bear away from Hank and into his own lap.

"You like Halstead, right?" Hank put to him.

"I guess," Ethan muttered.

"I think you more than guess," he said. "You trust him?" His son just shrugged at him, so Voight joined him in staring at the black lake for a moment. "I trust him," he muttered and felt his boy look at him. He caught his eyes. "It's why I've got him partnered up with your sister on the job. I trust him to watch my daughter's back. To get her home safe to us every night. That's a pretty big responsibility, Magoo. An important job. And, I think if I can trust him with that, I can trust him with my girl in the rest of it. To be kind to her and gentle with her and take care of her and her heart – and any little nieces or nephews they bring home for you one day. And that's my little girl and I'm trusting him. So I think you can trust him with your big sister."

Ethan watched him. Those eyes. Camille's eyes. Sitting there on him. Like she was hearing the admission. Him letting go a bit. Loosening his grip. Letting Erin grow up more. Trusting her. All things Camille would approve of. But he wasn't sure Ethan approved in quite the same way. He was struggling to wrap his pre-teen head around it all – Hank could tell.

"Erin says that her and Jay love each other like you and Mom," Ethan provided quietly.

Voight allowed a thin smile at that and gave a little shrug. "I hope so," he allowed.

"But … like … they haven't known each other super long like you and Mom. And Justin and Olive knew each other in high school like you and Mom but I don't think they love each other like you and Mom," Ethan sputtered out.

"Mmm …" Hank grunted and gave up his worries about his ass denting the hood, putting his heel against the fender and propelling himself to sit next to his boy. "Well, sometimes love and family and relationships are kinda complicated and a lot of times after there's kids involved – if you're a real man, a good man – you'll do what you need to do to make the best of the situation and to make sure your family is taken care of."

"So you don't think Justin and Olive love each other like you and Mom?" Ethan asked, gazing at him.

He turned to meet his son's eyes. "I think your brother and Olive are still getting to know each other but they're trying real hard to do right by Henry and doing that together is going to bring them closer together and make make them a real strong family with time."

That gaze settled on him again. He kept it. Let his boy think and try to understand. Grown up things for a kid who'd already been forced to grow up before his time in a lot of ways.

"Michelle asked if you and Erin are like her and Uncle Alvin," Ethan said quietly.

Hank grunted acknowledgement of that statement but he felt his chin involuntarily elongate as he prickled. "What'd you say?"

"That Erin's my sister," Ethan said flatly and Hank gave a small nod of acceptance at the kid's response. "But Dad, sometimes you say that Erin coming home was making best of a bad situation and that it was making things right."

He grunted and looked across the lake. "What you think about all that?"

He felt his boy shrugged and heard his gloved hands stroking restlessly at the pup's coat. "People say me and Erin look alike," Ethan said quietly. "Sometimes they even think she's my mom."

Another grunt. "And, you look like your mom, Magoo. So what's that say?"

"People say I look like you too," he said.

Voight looked back – examining his boy in his own attempt to see himself in him. Sometimes he had so much trouble seeing that. Or maybe he just didn't want to.

"Eth," he said firmly. "I never stepped out on your Ma. Not before. Not now. Erin had a real messy childhood. That wasn't a place to be growing up. It wasn't safe. And she needed somewhere safe. She needed a family. And our family needed her too, Magoo. So she came home. That was the best solution and the right thing to do."

His boy's eyes stayed on him in that continued measure. "Justin says no one just has sex with one person," Ethan put shyly but bluntly.

Hank snorted out some amused disgust at that and squeezed the bridge of his nose as he again gazed at the ground. "That so?" he muttered.

"Yes …" Ethan provided unsurely.

Voight shook his head and looked at his boy. "Ethan, your brother and him thinking with the wrong head got him into some trouble, didn't it?"

"You say Henry isn't a mistake," Ethan put back to him.

"He's not a mistake," Hank agreed. "But he is unplanned and if your brother had been taking a bit more care, Henry becoming a member of this wouldn't have been quite as messy as it was."

"So you think Justin has too much sex?" Ethan's brow creased.

Hank snorted at that and again shook his head and gazed at his city. "I think you shouldn't be getting sex or relationship advice from your brother," he muttered.

"But he's my brother …" Ethan said weakly. "He knows stuff."

Voight grunted. "Well, I'm your father, and as someone who's been around the sun a few more times than J, I'm telling you that, yeah, sex feels good and it's fun. But it's going to feel better and be more fun if it's someone you really know and really care about."

"So you think people only have sex with one person?" Ethan squinted.

Voight flared his nostrils. "No, Magoo. Most people are going to have more than one partner in their lifetime. But that don't mean you gotta be sticking your dick everywhere just because you're horny. Save it for people you trust. People who mean something to you."

Ethan sat there. His heels kicking against the grill again. "I think J thinks that you've only been with Mom and that that's boring and that you guys were all … 'melodramatic' …"

Voight grunted at that and crossed his arms again, shoving his hands deeper into his armpits. Leather coat only kept you so warm in this weather but did a good job breaking the wind. Too bad it didn't do as good as job at breaking a twelve-year-old's line of questioning.

"Well, your brother can think what he wants about me," Hank said. Justin sure as hell did anyways and Voight was at the point in his life that he'd pretty much accepted there wasn't any changing that. He'd only have to hope with age and time, their relationship would continue to develop and change. That Justin wouldn't be as critical of his failings as a father and instead just accept him for the human being he was and the man he'd done his best to be for his family. "But, I'll tell you what, Magoo, your mom was the first woman I was with and she was the last one I was with – and that means something to me. It matters. And anything in between – beyond me and your mom making a home for three great kids – ain't no one's business but our own."

Ethan sat staring at him. Hank could feel it. But he just looked at his city. Eyed it. It was about the only other thing he'd had a love affair with besides his wife. But he was sure she'd likely felt cheated on because of it at certain points in their relationship anyways.

"I don't think Justin likes that you talk to me about stuff," Ethan said quietly after a long gaze.

Hank slowly brought his eyes back to his boy and reached to give his shoulder a little squeeze while his son examined his puppy.

"I like talking to you about stuff, Ethan," he said more gently. "I likely didn't talk to your brother about enough stuff and look where that got him. All of us."

Ethan's eyes apprehensively came up to him. "I think he thinks you like me and Erin more than him."

Voight gave a little shrug. He knew that. Justin threw it in his face all the time. All his failings as a father. How he'd turned his attention to Erin when she came home. How she was his golden girl and he was just the prodigal son. How he was raising Ethan completely differently than he'd treated his eldest son. And there was some truth to all those statements. But there also wasn't.

"I like you all the same," Voight said flatly. "I love all of you. But I treat you all differently. Erin's the oldest. She's my daughter. You're my youngest and I'm a single parent now. Justin's my oldest boy and he got a childhood with a mom and a dad. You're all your own people. You all shaped this family in different ways. And I treat you like and love you as the individuals you are. And that's something your brother has always had difficult understanding and accepting."

Ethan slumped against him at that, the puppy in his lap, and Hank wrapped his arm around him, putting a light kiss against the top of his beanie. He'd pulled on the Cubs on that night – not the Blackhawks. Hank had noticed.

"Did you like the rover I made Bear, Dad?" he asked, apparently tired of their heavy talk. But that was OK. Hank was tired of it too. For now.

"Yea …" Voight allowed of his son's latest circuitry project.

He was just glad he'd picked something that was a hit with his boy. Money had only gone so far that year with the extra medical expenses and what hadn't been covered for his son and helping Justin and Olive out with setting up home and the baby. Then there'd been having to adjust the Christmas budget to make sure his grandson and Olive had some surprises in their stockings too and under the tree. Normally, he still likely would've had two gifts under the tree for Magoo. But he'd gotten a heftier stocking than usual and he seemed pleased with everything he'd got – even now a week out from the big day. That was Magoo, though. He wasn't much of a complainer. He rolled with things and just kept rolling. He was proud of him that way. His son was a fighter in his own special way.

Ethan rolled his head against Hank's chest a bit. "There's a robotics club at school," his son said quietly. "They get to make like Mindstorms and robots and do circuitry and learn coding and work in the STEM labs. They even go to competitions. And if they win the competitions they can even go to like state and nationals and internationals. Like a real team."

Hank looked down at his boy. "Sounds pretty interesting," he rasped.

Ethan nodded. "But you have to be smart to join. They only let thirty-five people be on the team."

Hank rubbed at his bicep. "There tryouts?" he asked. "Can you take in your robot? Or get Mouse to help you out with one of those computer programs?"

His son shrugged. "I think most of it's based on your grades and my report card wasn't so good."

Hank put his mouth against the top of his boy's head again. "You're on an IEP, Kiddo," he mumbled. "You did just fine."

"I don't think I'll get picked …"

Hank sighed and rested his cheekbone against his son's crown. "You want me to talk to Father Caruso?"

Truth was even if Ethan said no, he likely was going to now. This was the first thing his boy had expressed an interest in joining – an effort to be a part of something, to interact with other kids – since he'd gotten diagnosed with the M.S. Everything else he'd retreated from. Baseball. Boxing. Even summer camp. He'd gone into hiding and a near depression. A real depression, actually. Just keeping it at bay with even more medication and counseling. For whatever good either of those things were doing for a little boy.

But Ethan didn't give a response either way, just shrugging into him more. "I just kinda want to be part of something again," he said quietly. "I miss that."

"Yea …" Hank agreed.

He missed his son having that too. Missed the baseball games. Missed going up to the boarding school to watch a tournament. Missed the Little League showdowns. Taking his boy out to the batting cage. Lobbing balls at him in an abandoned diamond. Or tossing the ball around with him out back in the evenings. Missed his son having something to work at and strive for. To be good at and excited about. But it seemed like maybe this circuitry stuff could be that for him too. Maybe. Wasn't sports. But it was something and it was something that might have a more long-term future for him than baseball. And he'd just as happily go out and watch whatever science fair robot thing his boy had if he got into this club and into this team as he would've any of his baseball games.

"I've been kinda thinking that maybe I could use my allowance to buy either a tablet or a Wii or something," Ethan said quietly. "If you think that's OK …"

"Mmm..." Hank grunted. "Why you thinking that?"

Ethan petted at the dog, staring at him intently. "You can get apps to learn how to code and stuff for a tablet and there's like games where you can make your own games sorta and like build things and program and stuff if I got a Wii … " he said carefully.

"Mmm …" Hank grunted again and kept a grip on his son. "Can't do any of that stuff on the computer?"

Ethan made a small sound and sunk against him a bit. "I find the computer kinda hard, Dad," he admitted with a weaver in his voice. "Sometimes it's hard to type or mouse the mouse or trackpad if my hand's shaking. And there's so much reading. It's … frustrating."

Hank could hear his frustration and embarrassment. He allowed a small grunt of acknowledgement. He felt Ethan's frustration too – in his own way. He participated in the struggle as he helped him with his homework and tried to help him relearn and rewire his brain. To get things to connect and function in a way that worked for him. But it was a process. It wasn't going to be some switch that was just eventually going to get flipped.

"Tablets are more visual …" Ethan said quietly. "Wii too …"

Voight grunted. That was a phrase that got used a whole lot as his cognitive therapy. At his academic assistance program too. It was something that got focused on. Turning his boy into a visual learn. Getting him to concentrate and process enough to see and learn and absorb and retain that way.

"You look into how much any of these things cost?" he asked.

Ethan's head rotated a bit, gazing up at him with some hopefulness. "If I just got a Mini, they're both like three-Cs."

Hank grunted again and gazed at the water. He could see the lights of more boats gathering in proximity to the pier. Show was likely going to start soon.

"This Wii thing … it the thing Mouse got his nephews?" he asked.

"Yea …" Ethan allowed with some deflation in his voice.

"So it's another video game thing?"

"Yea …" Ethan said quietly. "But you'd like it better than Xbox and Playstation cuz it's like made for kids."

"Mmm …" Hank grunted. "That mean you going to outgrow it soon?" Ethan shrugged against him. "The Xbox got any of these games?"

"Sort of," Ethan said. "Different ones. It has Minecraft and like stuff you can download."

"But you don't like those games?" Hank asked, giving him a look.

Ethan shrugged. "I don't know. But the Xbox is the old one, Dad. Lots of stuff doesn't work on it anymore because there's a new one now."

He grunted. Justin had been going on about that for his entire visit. Hank had mostly tuned it out. He'd had to do a lot of tuning out of Justin that visit after they'd gotten through Christmas day. Focused his ears and attention on his grandson and not the static coming out of his son's mouth.

"So you get the new one, will you be able to get the games you need to learn this stuff?"

"I guess," Ethan said. "But I think maybe I want the Wii."

Hank looked down at him. "You think you'll still want it a year from now? Because you seem to like this Xbox commotion and I heard a whole lot from you about the PlayStation thing when you first came home."

Ethan let out a slow breath. "They put out different games on all of them to try to make you get them all," he said.

Hank let out his own sound and smiled, reaching to rub at the side of his boy's cold cheek. "Glad you get that, Magoo. So I think you need to think a bit more about which one you actually want before you drop that kinda dough."

"Yea …" Ethan said with a small huff of defeat.

Hank shook at his shoulder, though. "I'll tell you what, you think on that. But assuming you get through the next week without putting on much of a show about having to go back to school and you show me how you're going to be stepping up to take care of this dog, when my next pay day rolls around, we can go take a look at the iPads."

Ethan's eyes shot up to him – gleaning with hopefulness again. But Voight held up a finger before he got too far ahead of himself.

"But, it's gonna be a tool for school," he said. "We'll treat it like the computer. There will be rules. It ain't gonna be full of games and you aren't going to be buried in it all night."

"OK," Ethan nodded.

"And you'll be helping pay for it," Hank said firmly. "I'll subsidize. But it's something you want and it's a privilege you've earned – so we're gonna take a look at what you've got saved and work out an agreement on how we'll handle the cost."

Ethan put his good ear back against Hank's shoulder and nodded again. For as hard as Ethan was in some ways, in other his son was easy. Just like any other kid.

He rubbed at his arm and shook at his shoulder. Just held his son, who for the moment was still a little boy and who still took his support and affection. Still wanted and needed it. Still didn't put up a fight about it every step of the way even if he did put up fronts and attitudes.

And as he held him, the first booms of the fireworks started, as off in the distance the smoke and steam of the pyrotechnics jetted across the sky and colors exploded high above. The smoke of the explosions hanging there and lighting up again the next color, long after the first had dimmed.

"Happy New Year, Dad," Ethan whispered, his eyes looking upward.

But Hank's eyes were all on his son and his head again rested against his child's.

"Happy New Year, Magoo…"

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Just a note that the readership counts indicate that a lot of you might've missed Chapter 24 - Smokehouse. Just in case you did and want to go back.**


	27. Scrabble

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

***** **AUTHOR NOTE: This chapter comes before Force Awakens. I'll reorder the chapters after I've caught up with the writing of the NYE and the Jay/Ethan one-on-one. For now, check the note and hopefully don't get too confused. ********

 **WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS M RATED CONTENT. THE START AND END OF THE M CONTENT IS MARKED WITH *** AND BOLD MESSAGE. SO IF THAT'S NOT YOUR THING OR YOU'RE A MINOR, YOU CAN READ AROUND THE CONTENT. THE SECTION IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CHAPTER IS NOT M as well as a few paragraphs at the beginning.**

Erin let out a repressed giggle as Jay pushed her back into his couch. Giggling was a little more girly than she liked to be – but sometimes it was hard to keep them in check. Like now – with Jay having clearly lost all patience in his urgency to get them into bed.

She'd admit it was likely kinda, sorta her fault. She'd conceded to his, "I'm driving" proclamation as they'd returned to the car after Will's yawner of a "party". She'd given him a look – unimpressed. He knew the rules about driving. She drove. He sat – like the good 'house husband' he was and didn't want to be. But she'd tossed the keys to him. Let him have his way. Because sometimes, in relationships, you just had to do that. Humor him.

But she'd only humored him for so long before she'd tortured him. They hadn't really been talking in the car. Maybe they were tired or just decompressing or they just weren't in a chatty mood. But as she glanced at him and his intent gaze on the road, her hand at reached across the car and settled onto his thigh. He'd cast it a look and gave her a glance. But no comment.

 *****START OF FIRST SECTION OF M RATED CONTENT. IT IS ONLY A MILD M BUT DOES CONTAIN SEXUAL ACTIONS BUT NO FOLLOW THROUGH*****

So her hand a moved down to his inner thigh and then inched up until she was cupping his crotch. She could feel his muscles twitching from the moment her fingers started teasing at his inner thigh, but his reaction became that much apparent as she felt his manhood through his jeans and the growing tension rising up there.

"This does not constitute the safe operation of a vehicle," he'd muttered at her, giving her a look.

But Erin had just grinned at him. The white of her teeth showing slightly – and the pink of her tongue as she pierced in between them in her amusement at his uncomfortable enjoyment of the situation.

"You've got both hands on the wheel," she'd told him. "Seem safes to me."

"Uh-huh," he'd grunted and hadn't said anything more. Trying to act like he was ignoring her. Like her hand massaging across the front of his pants and cupping downward wasn't doing anything to him. Like she couldn't feel through his pants the exact kind of reaction she was getting out of him and how he was clearly tensing himself to fight against the urge to squirm under her touch or press more needly into her palm.

So she'd upped the ante, glancing at the road in quiet confirmation that, they didn't have too much traffic to compete with even if she was distracting some of his attention from the road. And with that confirmation, she'd moved her hand upward and wiggled her hand down the waist of his briefs and into his pants – her fingers tracing along the hot length of him.

He'd bucked a bit at that and made a sound. And his one hand had come off the steering wheel, grabbed her wrist and tossed her hand back towards her lap.

"You're distracting me," he chided her.

She shrugged at him. "You seemed to like it."

He cast her an annoyed look. "The roads are icy."

"So …?"

"So," he hissed, "if we slide off the road and some patrol guy stops to check on us and we get to explain that. 'Oh, sorry, officer. We're all right, just waiting for a tow. Got a little distracted at the wheel. Slid off the road. Oh what was the distraction? My fiancé was giving me a hand job.'"

She snorted at him. "I'm sure a guy who works undercover could come with a better explanation than that."

"Because I'm all about lying to the police," Jay muttered.

She just shrugged again. "Maybe you can't remember patrol, but I can tell you, I saw a whole lot more going on in cars and heard a lot more wonky explanations than a hand job."

He gave her a look. "We aren't sixteen and we aren't having an affair. Pretty sure we can find some other place to whip it out that isn't a moving vehicle."

She'd laughed at him. He could be so fucking uptight sometimes. He was annoying. So fucking Jay. But it was something she liked about him too. All these moral standards – and rules and regulations – he held himself to. She kind of needed that. In her life and in a man.

So she'd just gone back to gazing out the side window. But she wasn't anywhere near oblivious to the fact that their route to her condo had suddenly changed and now they seemed to be making a beeline to his apartment – a location far closer to Will's place than her condo.

She'd hardly gotten out of the car before Jay was around it and had her pressed against the side of it, as he hungrily found his mouth. Apparently the rest of the drive hadn't done anything to damper his enthusiasm. If anything, the anticipation must've gotten to him – because he even harder as he pressed against her. But she let him. They both nearly dropped all modesty as they necked in his parking spot. She was starting to think that rather than bolt for his apartment they might just be getting into the backseat.

But he'd finally broken away, gazing at her with those eyes and that hungry passion – her looking at him with moist, slightly parted lips in her own aroused breathing. He'd taken her hand and guided her into the building – though his gait was slightly more John Wayne than usual.

They'd managed to get through the building, up the elevator and in his door with out acting like completely horny teenagers who couldn't wait. But they apparently couldn't wait much longer than that – because Jay had barely closed the door behind him, before he was working on undressing her, running his hands over her body and pressing his against hers. She'd again thought they weren't likely going to make it to the bedroom. That they were going to do it right there – barely inside his unbolted door. But she'd composed her eagerness enough to pull away from him slightly and start to direct them towards his bed. He'd had other plans, though, and had teasingly wrestled her to the couch, crawling right back on top of her as she sunk into the cushions of his "functional" sofa. Hers was definitely way better – in form and function. His was far too cushy for sex. Not that that had stopped them before.

His mouth returned to hers and his hands ran up her bare belly, tickling across each of her ribs, almost as though he was counting them, before they caressed at the lacy material at the side of her bra and then started to reach around her to unclasp it.

 *****END OF M RATED CONTENT*****

She arched her back a bit to help him but then settled, letting out a little sigh and finding his eyes. "I need to tell you something first," she said.

He gave her a questioning look. There was concern there but she knew he was trying to find some sort of witty retort to hid it. She didn't give him the opportunity to test it out, though.

"I might've kind've invited Natalie and Will to dinner at Hank's tomorrow," she said quietly, giving him a nervous smile, biting on the one side of her lower lip with the admission.

He gazed at her sitting up a bit. The gaze turned into a gape. "You did what?" he asked with some annoyed astoundment.

"They might not come," Erin fumbled, putting her hand against his bare chest. Fuck. She loved his body. He was keeper for who he was – but that body – it just added to the package. "Natalie said with Ethan having been her patient and us having him into Emerg so much …" Jay just kept looking at her in amazement, so she kept going. "But … I should likely … let Hank know."

"Ah, yeah," Jay said. "You might wanna bring him into the loop on that …" he muttered and slumped against the side of the couch, between her legs. He looked kind of defeated.

"And … we should likely kinda go …," she offered. "Either way."

He let out another annoyed noise and looked at her. "We were supposed to have a Dad Free day," he said put to her. "A Voight free day."

She pushed herself up the arm of the couch a bit, so she was sitting up more. "Well … we'll have a Voight Free … twenty-two hours," she offered. He cast her a look. "OK … maybe more like twenty," she admitted.

He sighed and sagged his head.

"Jay, c'mon," she said, reaching and putting a hand on his shoulder. "It's family. It's the holidays. It will be the last thing he does for the holidays."

Jay gazed at her. "Yea, and then next week Eth's still off school so we both know we'll be over there helping out. And then he's back at school so you'll be back into your homework help schedule."

She shrugged at him. "The kid matters to me. My family matters to me. That's the gig. You knew that. It's simple."

He looked at her. "I know," he conceded but shook his head and looked away again, mumbling, "I just was hoping to get some time together."

"We have lots of time together," she said. "We spend nearly all day, every day together."

His eyes moved back to her. "Alone time together," he clarified bluntly but softened. "You know … just listen to some vinyl. Read. Binge on some bad Netflix documentaries. Go get some smoked trout and just trout out all fucking day."

She grinned at him with a sniffled laugh, raising an eyebrow. "Trout out?"

"Trout out," Jay said, batting his hand for emphasis.

She smiled more. "Is that some other Halstead euphemism? Because it was Will's whole needing 'clarification on Scrabble' that got us into this," she said.

"How'd that get us 'into this'?" he pushed back.

She gave him a disbelieving look and slapped at his arm where it was resting across the back of the couch. "'Clarification on Scrabble', Jay? Who needs 'clarification on Scrabble'? You should've seen the look Natalie was giving me. I had to say something."

"Oh," Jay nodded. "And the 'something' you managed to come up with was, 'Hey, dinner at Dad's'?"

"It distracted her," Erin pressed.

He snorted and shook his head. "I think an undercover detective could've come up with something better than that," he teased her, using her language from in the car.

She gave him a little slap but smiled at him, sinking back into the couch and gazing at the ground for a moment.

"Please tell me that Will didn't call you out of the room to get advice on how to get Natalie into bed," she muttered. Jay just made a noise and she gave disbelieving eyes to him, shaking her head. "He is such a dog."

"Erin, c'mon …" he said.

She gave him firmer eyes. "Jay, she's a widow. She's going to pop out a baby any day now. I was afraid she was going to go into labor there in your brother's living room right in front of us."

"Yea, so I'm not an expert on the whole nine-month pregnant woman thing, but I'm pretty sure the last thing on her mind is sex with my brother – no matter what he's thinking," Jay said.

Erin shook her head and ran her hand through her hair while looking at him. "This is such a bad idea," she said. "You should tell him to back off."

"Says the woman who just invited them OVER TO DINNER AT HER FATHER'S HOUSE," he stressed in staccato to her.

She rolled her eyes. "Your brother," she said. "With a baby? Can you really see that?"

Jay just made a noise and looked at the ground.

"She's going to be super vulnerable and overwhelmed and lonely and tired," Erin pressed. "This isn't something we should be encouraging. At all."

Jay sighed and looked at her. "He likes her," he shrugged.

"Yea," Erin agreed, "and by the sounds of it, Will's liked lots of other women at the wrong times, for the wrong reasons in the past."

"It seems different," Jay said. "And what can I say about it? It wasn't like we were the brightest relationship to pursue either."

"Umm, I'm not a pregnant widow," Erin put bluntly.

"Yeah," Jay said. "You're just my boss' daughter and my partner. That's real smart."

She sighed and gazed at the ground. "Just tell me there wasn't going to be anything resembling Scrabble going on in that apartment after we left," she muttered.

Jay shrugged. "She seemed pretty tired to me. Think the plan was just to drive her home."

"And for Will to come home after that?" Erin pressed.

Jay gazed at her for a moment and then leaned in, finding her lips again and flicking his tongue gently against them until she opened her mouth to him and let the passion deepen again. His body began to press against her again, the weight of their shifted position, sending her deeper into the plush cushions. Her arousal starting to build and hum again as their hands roamed against their mutual bare, taunt flesh.

She let out a little, content sigh as he broke to come up for some air and gazed at her.

"I think made we should be focusing a bit more on our own Scrabble rules rather than worrying about theirs," he whispered at her.

"Mmm…" she conceded and nipped at his lips again, grazing his bottom one with her teeth and tugging on it gently. "Maybe …" she agreed.

"Yea," Jay said and briefly pressed his mouth and a huff of his sweet breath against her lips again. "Because I can think of some good places to play Scrabble."

"Yeah?" she breathed a little more restlessly. "Where's that?"

 *****BEGINNING OF NEXT M SECTION — CONTINUING THROUGH TO THE END OF THE CHAPTER. THIS IS AN EXPLICIT M — NOT A MILD ONE. *****

He kissed her a bit longer, a bit deeper, and then pulled back slightly, giving her those playful eyes and then briefly sucking the tip of his finger. "On your …" he said and moved his finger to trace out letters on her bare stomach. The wet of his salvia meeting her hot bare flesh and the cool air and creating a chill over the sensitive skin as in purposeful motion C-L-I-T was spelled out.

She gave him a cheeky grin in response to his teasing eyes as he finished his little exercise. "That so?" she mouthed.

He shrugged. "It is," he said and leaned forward again for another kiss.

It lasted longer and she let her arms wrap around him, feeling his broad shoulders and his strong back. Her legs coming up to cradle him more between hers as his mouth moved from her mouth and worked at sucking at her neck and ear and across her collar bone. As his tongue played. Her breathing quickened and she felt the starts of an aroused glean rising on her hot skin. He kissed along her jaw and then raised up slightly, sitting on his knees between her legs as he unbuttoned her pants and pulled them and her boy shorts down, shifting slightly so he could clear them of her legs and feet. She didn't protest in the least as she anticipated what was coming.

He settled back against her. She could feel his anticipation too and found herself reaching for his ass during the kiss and her hands snaking to the front of him to work at his fly but her broke the kiss and looked her in the eye.

"Not yet," he said gently and then started a slow trek down she chest. Stopping to remove her bra and giving each of her breasts attention with his hands and his mouth. Sucks and blows of his hot breath against the cold air causing her to gasp as her sensitive nipples strained and stood even more on end before he nuzzled at the underside of her breasts and then continued his southward trail. He stopped again at her stomach, tracing the tip of his tongue in lazy patterns near her navel in a way that was causing her to restless squirm under him in desire for him to just get to the Scrabble location.

And then he had. But he didn't stop. His mouth kissing at her inner thighs. His fingers tickling at the sensitive skin behind her knees. And her just going crazy. It felt so good but she knew it could feel better. The arousal pulsing up her spine was already telling her how good it was going to be. She could feel how wet she'd become with his administrations. Anything they'd lost in their stop for a chat was now being superseded. Her body was even more ready than before and she felt herself pulsing with aroused anticipation.

Finally his kisses landed on her outer lips. His tongue tracing between the engorged folds. His mouth pulling each briefly into them before the soft kisses returned and his one hand found her – spreading her lips to better expose her clit pulsing in its own ready arousal. His eyes came up to hers, as she gazed down her belly at him under heavy slits. It felt so good that it was hard to keep her eyes open. To not just let her head fall back into the couch and her eyes drift shut as she enjoyed what he was doing.

He kept his gentle but lustful gaze with her as his mouth covered her in a brief warm suck and then the movements of his tongue began. The warm, roughness of his taste buds against her erect clitoris sending pulses through her. A moan escaped and she withered under him. His tongue flicked at her while two of his fingers held her exposed and his thumb drew circular motions around her hood. She could tell from the motions he was likely spelling out something against her but her mind was so submerged with the arousal that she couldn't process what it might be. She wasn't sure she cared. She only cared about how it felt and how it was flooding her being.

The moan turned into an outright groan and she squirmed with the pleasure of it. The uncomfortable agony of it that demanded he continue. Her whole body was restless as her nerve-endings became more and more demanding of the growing sensation between her legs. It flooding up her back and to her shoulders and down the backs of her arms while it also flooded her core in the involuntarily demand to feel more of him.

Her hands reached for him. Her fingers threading through his short hair but also gently pressing him closer to her in her enjoyment. Her pelvis unconsciously pressing up to him too. Meeting him and begging for more. And, he gave it. His one hand left its job and his mouth gave her another suck as the fingers trailed across her stomach and massaged at her breast. Her breathing becoming more labored, as her mouth hung open in slow pants against the simulation. His eyes again watching her as his opposite hand moved and two fingers entered her.

Another grunt escaped from her and she body restlessly fought for the orgasm that she could feel herself charging for. He was hitting so many of her erogenous zones. Her breasts. Her clit. His fingers curling in their search for her G-spot and their mere presence giving her some of the fullness her core was begging for at that point – something to pulse and squeeze against. The fine hairs of his forearms scrapping gently against her inner thighs. The weight of him feeling so comforting on top of her lower half – though her legs were restless under him.

She had lost all ability to contain herself. She knew she was making aroused noises. Her breathing was labored. And as much as she wanted to watch what he was doing, her glassy, dilated eyes could barely focus. But then she didn't have a chance to watch anymore. He'd found her G-spot and her initial shocked gasp at his first brush against it was near immediately replaced with a shaky moan as he stroked the area a second and third time and her body convulsed around him. Her pulsing against his fingers, pulling and tugging at them. More blood rushing into her clit and it suddenly feeling even more overwhelming sensitive under his mouth as she pressed her hands even more firmly against the back of his head and arched up under him, just trembling with her surprised breathing that raced to catch up with her pounding heart and then struggled to calm as her body tingled.

She had to make herself consciously let herself come down. To settle her legs. To loosen her grip on where she was holding his face in place. To tell her breathing and her heart to stop heaving. Her body self super sensitive. She'd tensed so much with the arousal of what he was doing and now the spasms as her body released, had her muscles in her arms and legs feeling like jelly while the nerve-endings in her spine continued to dance from the stimulation and her core told her she was far from being satisfied with just that. Not after how good that had felt. How much it had overtaken her.

Still, as his fingers slipped out of her, she stopped threading her fingers through his hair and let him look up at her. He was clearly exceedingly proud of himself. Grinning like a fool.

"Pretty sure that was a triple letter word score," he said.

She couldn't hid her smile and grabbed at his bicep, prompting him to crawl up her chest and she didn't hesitate for a second to plant her mouth back on his. Kissing him deeply. Tasting what they'd just done.

"Could you tell what I spelled?" he asked, breaking away slightly.

"Haven't got a clue," she muttered and kissed him again.

"Happy New Year," he told her.

She let out a quiet laugh. Appropriate. But she just reached for his fly again and this time he didn't protest. Her anxious fingers fumbled to get it undone.

"Happy New Year," she agreed. "But I think we don't need to do anymore talking this New Year's Eve."

"That your resolution?" he asked as she got his fly down. She started to push his pants down but he moved and did it himself. His erection bobbing as it was freed.

"Mmm," she allowed as he settled back against her, her hand finding him while his mouth found hers again. "Twenty hours," she mumbled against the kiss. "Can think of a lot better things to do than talk."

He made a sound of agreement, spreading her legs and against settling himself between them.

"Scrabble," he muttered, rubbing himself a couple times against her wetness, his head tapping against her still sensitive clit. "Fucking love Scrabble," he added, as he guided himself into her and she again let out a little grunt as the feeling of his presence, her legs adjusting to take in more of him. "And you," he said, as he leaned forward, kissing her again and starting his own thrusts.

"Love you too," she sighed contently, and wrapped herself around him, closing her eyes and enjoying the full sensation as he breathed quiet pants against her neck and whispered more niceties against her ear.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: I know from lots of people that FF does weird posting stuff. And I can see it from readership numbers too on the chapters. Basically it seems like if it hasn't been more than 24 hours since I've posted then it doesn't send out alerts or bump it to the top of the list. I don't really keep track of when I post stuff — beyond it usually being the evening (so if I post something at 9 one night and 8 the next night, it won't alert or bump because it hasn't been 24 hours yet) and sometimes I posted stuff in the morning and the evening if I have multiple chapters prepared. So basically, people who who aren't checking to see if multiple chapters have been posted, are missing stuff.**

 **The recent chapters that looks like a lot of people missed are:**

 **Chapter 21 - Jenga**

 **Chapter 22 - Under Appreciated (Erin and Al)**

 **Chapter 24 - Smokehouse**

 **Chapter 25 - On Repeat**

 **Chapter 26 - Fireworks**

 **I was particularly happy with how On Repeat and Fireworks turned out, so if you haven't had a chance to read them, you might want to check them out.**

 **As always, any reviews or feedback is much appreciated.**


	28. Reward

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

***** **AUTHOR NOTE: This chapter comes before Force Awakens. I'll reorder the chapters after I've caught up with the writing of the NYE and the Jay/Ethan one-on-one. For now, check the note and hopefully don't get too confused. ********

Dr. Natalie Manning glanced up from her efforts to scrape some scrap food sticking to the plates into the seeming compost bin as she heard someone enter the kitchen. Apparently Hank Voight was surprised to see her there because he came to an abrupt stop before he could even put the cordless phone back in its charging cradle.

The phone had rung as they were in the midst of dessert. He'd gone to look at it, casting Erin Lindsay a look as he did and wagging it at her. The woman had looked at little Ethan Voight, who hadn't even seemed to register that the phone had rang or at least was doing his best to pretend he hadn't. She'd just shaken her head. And Hank had grunted something about taking it and had disappeared from the room.

Natalie had still been able to hear him rasping away in a nearby room and not long after there'd been the clear sound of Skype starting up and an incoming call and more voices coming from the other room. It'd been pretty clear that Hank was talking to – or at least looking at and talking at – his grandson. Though, there'd seemed to be some intermittent conversations with the adults on the other end too. She assumed it was his son and wife.

The rest of the people in the dining room had just continued on with finishing up dessert. Though, Natalie found herself dividing her attention between the silly conversation taking place around the table and the hushed, gravely voice in the unseen room.

Joining the Voight family for dinner had been a rather strange experience. It was wonderful but it was strange to see those people in a different setting and light. She'd hesitated on even going. Erin's invitation the night before had seemed so abrupt and then so tentative. And then she really wasn't sure she should be fratinizing with patients because she didn't doubt that the Voights would be back into the E.D. again in the foreseeable future. They were pretty frequent flyers anymore. But Will had pointed out that they'd spent the evening with Erin already, who though she wasn't a patient, was technically an authorized guardian and executive decision maker on Ethan's medical file in Hank's absence. So there was a bit of a patient-doctor privilege there too. And the line was getting more and more blurred now that she was spending some time with Will – with him living so close to her.

He was little more than a block away and some times when you're pregnant, having someone that close came in handy. There'd been more than once she'd called him to see if he could bring over a food she was craving because she couldn't stand to drag her pregnant body outside to retrieve it herself. And, then she was completely aware that he'd dropped in more than a few times on his own accord just to check in on her – to not leave the pregnant widow sitting alone with her thoughts and physical discomfort. Especially now that the baby could arrive any day. Though, she was pretty convinced that her little kickboxer was going to be taking his sweet time entering the world. First time pregnancies – they're always a little late, right?

With her growing friendship with Will and Will being Jay's brother and Jay now engaged to Erin – combined with their professions and interactions on the job – it was going to be pretty difficult to not at least occasionally have some personal interactions with the Voights. She was just going to have to keep it all in perspective when she was treating Ethan in the future.

Besides, Will had seemed interested in going. She knew with his schedule he hadn't gotten to spend much time with his brother that holiday season and he had seemed to want to with the engagement. Or at least see that ring on Erin's finger. But he'd also said that Jay went on about Hank's food, so if they were getting invited for dinner, they should likely take the family up on the offer.

She suspected that Will might've just been trying to distract her from her nervous anticipation of her baby's arrivial and all the places that had her mind going – and just generally freaking out. Because as much as she was ready – she so wasn't. And he'd also provided him with another no quite transparent reason to be at her side for the better part of the evening.

Natalie was glad she'd come, though. As promised, the food had been delicious. She'd eaten as much as her pregnant body had allowed her too – which was only so much with the way her little guy was sitting anymore. Still, she'd enjoyed it and been enthusiastic about taking her helpings – to the point that Will had teased her that the meal and the foods involved were likely going to send her into labor. It was so good, she hadn't really cared to take heed of his joke.

She'd mostly quietly observed at the table. There wasn't a whole lot of chatter going and she didn't get the sense that it was an uncomfortable or awkward silence because of her presence. They just didn't come across was people who talked too much while they were eating. Maybe that was a German thing? Or at least she got the impression of the possible ancestry there given the nature of the food being served up as a New Year's Day meal. And she thought Voight seemed like it had a Germanic ring to it.

Instead, she'd seen what was a bit of a quiet battle of the wills going on between Hank and his son at the table. Ethan hadn't been eating much. The little boy had served himself when the platters were passed around but Hank was apparently unimpressed with what he'd placed on his plate and had added some greens, a hunk of the melt-in-your-mouth pork roast and a small spoon full of some sort of stewed lentils that she was trying to figure out how to ask for the recipe without sounding like she was just being polite. It wasn't about niceties. She'd loved it. She'd had three helpings of it while trying to be modest about it. The amount of food Hank had put on Ethan's plate was a definite an improvement over the blob of sauerkraut and the roasted onions he'd picked out of the dish that had seasoned boiled potatoes in.

The boy had made a clearly unimpressed sound when his father had added food to make the meal look more like exactly that – a meal. But Hank had just given him those stern eyes of his. Natalie got the sense that if she hadn't been there there would've been words around the table at that point. But instead Ethan had picked slowly at the food – mostly pushing it around his plate – casting cautious glances at his father who met his eyes each time. And each time Ethan would put whatever was on his fork at that particular moment and slowly chew while clearly looking disgusted with it all.

It'd been odd enough to see Hank as a home cook. But it'd been even stranger to watch him as the father he was at home. Her interactions with him had been somewhat limited. She'd seen him, Erin and Jay breeze in-and-out of E.D. during various investigations. But they were fully engaged with their jobs at those times. They projected professionalism and urgency and there was rarely time for chit-chat. She'd had some more casual chit-chat with the group of them at Molly's. But she really hadn't been going there much lately – given her condition. And, she doubted she'd be seeing the inside of it much again for several years. So most of her interactions with them had revolved around Ethan having a flare up in his condition and them seeking out medical attention.

She wouldn't say that Hank was one of the worst parents she'd ever dealt with. All parents with their children in Emergency were under a lot of stress. In most instances, she got the sense that a lot of their trips were old hat for the family by now. Though, they'd still had some scares. And, Hank wasn't shy about demanding his son got the attention he felt the boy deserved. And, he was also educated on his son's condition and wasn't shy about arguing back to a doctor about what he felt was best or questioning a course of action. He often had this seething look on his face. Like he might rip into your jugular at any moment. And, of course, she'd heard about the whole punching the mirror thing. And, though, he'd been the first one to break an item in the newly opened Emergency Wing, Natalie really doubted he'd be the last. Tempers and emotions had a tendency to flare when people were placed in those kind of high-stakes, life and death situations.

But even though she acknowledged that Hank could be a little intimidating if things weren't going quite the way he wanted with his son, she'd also seen in the hospital how much he cared for his child. He'd spent a whole lot of sitting with his child and reassuring and advocating for him. She'd seen the closeness between the two that really only seemed rivaled by the bond he saw between Erin and Ethan. The boy clearly adored his sister too and Erin Lindsay seemed to be someone who could draw a smile out of the kid no matter what wringer they were putting him through at the hospital.

It was a rough path that Ethan was on. A lot for any kid to handle. But he seemed like such a sweet kid. Though, you could still see and hear the little boy in him, he had this quiet maturity about him. And, despite everything that he was going through, he came across as so laidback.

Seeing the Voights in their home was really just an extension of the tightness in the three that she'd seen at the hospital. But it was so much more relaxed then any time she saw them at Chicago Med. And how could it not be?

One moment that had stood out to her had been when Hank had brought out this plate of doughnuts for dessert. Though, he'd presented them a "kniekuchle", which had only confirmed her suspicions that there was some sort of Germanic ancestry that was being represented in the meal. The plate had also been decorated with wrapped chocolate gold coins.

He'd looked at his son and muttered, "Don't want you eating the chocolate."

Ethan had huffed at that but Hank had held out his two fists. The boy had stared at them. His father had only shook them.

"Pick one," he rasped.

Ethan cast him eyes but then tapped on the top of one. Hank had opened it to reveal there wasn't anything there and Ethan had given him a look and had started to reach to tap the other but before he could, Hank had done a simple slight of hand, effectively pulling a coin from behind Ethan's ear.

The boy had smiled shyly at that and taken the coin and examined it unsurely. "What is it?" he asked.

"Half-dollar," Hank had said.

It was clear that Ethan had never seen one. It was actually pretty clear that most of the people at the table had never seen one, as it got passed around and gazed at.

"Where'd you get this?" Erin had enquired.

"There's these things called banks," Hank had said flatly.

"That's helpful, Hank," Erin had shook her head at him. "Thank you."

But he'd just turned back to his son. "Don't want to see what's in the other one?"

Ethan had gazed at him expectantly and then tapped on the other hand. It again opened to reveal nothing and Hank again moved like he was going to pull another coin from behind Ethan's ear. But then he'd stopped and just cupped his boy's cheek before reaching into his back pocket and setting a Matchbox car package on the table.

Ethan had eagerly grabbed at it and cast his father a wide smile. "Thank you," he said shyly.

"Happy New Year," Hank had said simply, while his son had picked at the plastic to get the car out muttering something about having not received one in his stocking that year.

It'd been a really simple exchange. A very small gesture to include Ethan in whatever tradition was being presented when he would've otherwise been excluded. But it'd just really struck home the kind of people they were in their home life. How they were coping. And that'd sat with her more as she'd watched the start of dessert.

The little ritual around selecting the pastries. The tradition of apparently allowing the oldest to take one first and working around until the youngest got the last on the plate. How Hank had teased his son about if he was going to do his annual whine about being last. The eating of the coins for good luck and Erin making teasing comments at her little brother about him getting the better end of the deal – actual cash. Ethan going, "What am I gonna buy with 50-cents?" And Erin telling him he wasn't supposed to spend it anyway and him getting all bent out of shape about it. Hank warning her as she dug into the fruit-filled delight that one of them contained a "pig" – for good luck. So to watch her teeth. And the way Ethan hadn't had any interest in eating the crisp-fried dough around his but had ripped it apart with a fork and tentatively dug around the cherries searching out the pig. But it had been her who'd selected the pastry with the little plastic pig in it and Hank had just nodded that it was likely a good omen with the baby on the way.

It'd just been nice to watch a family. Though, maybe a little hard, in knowing that for now her family was just her and her baby. And her mother-in-law. And, she knew she had a lot of friends to help and support her. But it was still different than having a unit and the closer and closer she got to her due date, the more she worried that two wouldn't be enough. The more she fretted if she'd actually be able to do this. Though, there was no way that she wasn't going to do this.

But then the phone had rung and now Hank was standing there giving her a look about her occupation of his kitchen.

"My great kids and those two wonderful gentlemen letting the pregnant woman do the clean-up?" he monotoned at her as he put the phone back in place.

She just shrugged and turned back to what she was doing. "It's alright," she said. "They're pretty engaged in … Pass the Pig?"

Apparently it was some other tradition in the Voight household on New Year's Day. Some sort of game with the little plastic pig that had been in her pastry – along with several others. As far as she could tell, it pretty much was a dice game with pigs. But Erin, Ethan, Jay and Will were getting rather competitive about it all. Mostly because there was supposedly a 'prize', which she got the sense was another diecast car at most, but Jay had declared there wasn't a chance Ethan was winning it. With had just gotten Will on both of their cases and then that had seemed to bring out Erin's competitiveness too. And what really should've been some sort of quirky game had suddenly turned into an all out brawl for pig supremacy. And, the rules had proved a little complicated for her interest. So after they'd moved to the front room, she'd pretty much wandered away. She didn't think the rest of them had noticed.

"Mmm …" Hank had grunted but had come over and taken the plate out of her hand. "You don't need to worry about this."

She'd just given him a thin smile. "I don't mind. I can really only sit down so long right now." She sighed and rested her hands on her swollen belly. He was kicking at her again and she was judging how much longer she could hold it before all his bouncing on her bladder prompted her to attempt the steep narrow stairs up to the Voights' bathroom again. "I can really only do anything so long right now."

Hank had given her a gentle look at that as he moved to stack the dishes in the sink, clearly relieving her of the cleaning duties she'd taken on. "When you due?" he'd asked.

"Tuesday," she said flatly.

Hank's eyes found hers again – clearly a little surprised. "Oh, wow," he managed.

She nodded but rubbed at where she could feel his foot. "I'm not sure he's ready to come out yet, though. He seems pretty content just using my bladder as a trampoline." Voight gave her a little smile but looked away to start running water into the sink. "I really appreciate you having me over for dinner today."

He gave a little shrug. "Appreciate the care you've given my son," he allowed gruffly.

She gave his back a thin smile. She wasn't sure he really wanted to talk but she wasn't really ready to waddle back to the front room yet. So, she provided, "He's a really nice kid. I like him a lot."

He'd turned to give her a thin smile at that. Something about him seemed so sad underneath the gruff exterior. She basically knew what that something was. It wasn't a secret he'd lost his wife. And given her work with Ethan's medical file and her understanding of his previous injuries, she had a fairly good understanding about what had happened and the kind of loss and trauma the family had gone through.

Thinking about it made her a little sad. Maybe more than a little. Because she knew what it was like. It was weighing more and more on her lately. The closer it got to her baby's arrival. Their baby's arrival. Only there wasn't a 'them' anymore. Not beyond in her own mind and heart.

"Can I ask you something overly personal?" she'd felt herself say before she even realized fully it was coming out of her mouth. Her eyes snapped up with some horror that she'd let herself say it. But it wasn't those intimidating eyes that were gazing at her. They were soft. "Does it really get easier?" she asked timidly. "With time?"

His eyes kept hers for a long time. His hand curled around the countertop and the edge of the sink. She was starting to think he wasn't going to respond and she was also starting to think she should waddle away – right for the door. But then he'd finally shrugged.

"Don't know it gets easier," he allowed. "But you get farther away from it and maybe that's easier."

She gave a little nod and kept her hand in place, feeling her baby's heel. She gazed at the floor. "Does Ethan remember her?" she near whispered.

She could feel his eyes on her for a long time. A very long time but she couldn't raise them to find his. But he must've been waiting for because when she finally glanced up, he rather purposely met their lines of sight.

"Not really," he shrugged. "He was little and … his head," he said with a gesture. "But sometimes it seems like he remembers little things. Mostly stories we've told him since. But it makes him feel like he remembers. Knows her."

Natalie allowed another small nod but she again she found herself looking at the floor. It hurt to know her son wouldn't ever know his father. That his father would never know him. And that her son wouldn't have a father to help him grow up and become a man. The loss was still so raw and with each day it got closer to her baby's arrival the more it felt like it was being picked at. That the wound just kept be ripped wider and wider open. Even though she rejoiced that she was still going to have this very real piece of her husband to hold on to. To grow with and love. To share her love of her husband with. It also just kept throwing what she'd lost – they'd lost – in her face too. It made her scared about how she'd feel when she saw the baby. How she'd handle it all. As strong as she knew she was, she felt like this was going to make her dig deeper inside herself to find a new strength.

"You got people?" Hank asked, like he was listening to her inner monologue. But she supposed that was his job. To read people. To get answers out of them. To see what they were thinking and feeling even if they didn't particularly want him too. What should she expected, though? She'd asked him personal questions. She'd opened herself up to having the same put back to her.

"My mother-in-law lives her," she allowed. "And I've got friends," she said, gesturing absently to the front room where she could hear Will just ragging on his brother. Sometimes she thought he ribbed Jay a little too much even though they seemed very close. "Support."

"That's important," Hank nodded and gestured again to the front room too. "And, kids, they're resilient. Not the same as having a mom or a dad, but when one's missing, given the opportunity, they'll find other people to fill those gaps for them. Long as you got people there in your life. Trust the with it."

She gave him a sad smile. He knew he was likely more gesturing at Erin and her relationship with Ethan. She'd seen for herself how she mothered the boy – despite him just being her little brother. She'd seen for herself how some of the new medical students mistakenly assumed she was Ethan's mother and how Erin prickled at it. Not liking the assumption that she would've been a teenaged mother or maybe more specifically hating to diminish the honor that some other woman had for actually being the boy's mother. Not wanting to tarnish that memory. But Natalie also suspected he might be gesturing absently at Will too – and she just wasn't sure about that.

Will was a good guy. A good doctor. A good friend. And she hoped that he remained that after the baby arrived. That he wouldn't duck out. Or that having a baby around would make her a less desirable – and fun – friend. That it would just make her reek of responsibility. But beyond any of that – friendship – she wasn't sure she wanted to think about anything else. Even if it was just thinking about him potentially being a close enough friend to be a trusted male role model for her son. Right now thinking about any man in her son's life who wasn't his father was really too overwhelming. And thinking about any man being in her life who wasn't just a friend wasn't anywhere she was ready to truly let her mind roam. It was too soon. She thought. The hurt was still too fresh. She hadn't yet fully grieved. She didn't think she'd be able to until after the baby arrived. So she was still in mourning. Though, she wasn't oblivious to some of the looks Will had given her or some of the passing comments that Jay had stumbled over in their friendly chit-chat, where he'd realized he might've revealed something his brother had said that he wasn't supposed to.

Will talked about her to his brother. That said more than enough. It probably told her all she needed to know. Or at least all she was capable of processing at this time. At least it was just harmless and flattering right now. She didn't want to delve into it much deeper than that because that seemed like it would just open her to multiple layers of hurt and guilt and regret and grief she wasn't ready to cope with. She didn't have time to cope with anyway. Not when her baby would be there so soon. That's where her attention needed to be.

Hank continued to eye her and finally let out a grunt and moved. She assumed he was done talking to her. She'd invaded his privacy too much. But then he'd glanced over his shoulder and gestured with his hand.

"C'mon," he ordered more than said.

She squinted at him but followed him into the room where he'd disappeared to talk to his missing family members. He was over at a book shelf in the little study, and glanced over his shoulder when she came in. He moved over to the desk with a bulky wooden box and set it on the desk, flipping on a small lamp.

She didn't have to think too long on what the box likely was. She had one of her own. But she stood staring at it, somewhat transfixed.

He gestured at it. "It's his mom's," he allowed. "Stuff she kept. Keep it here so he can look through it when he wants. But so we're around. So he ain't alone."

She glanced out the opposite entrance of the study and saw that it opened into the front room. Erin had clearly seen them enter and was sitting on the couch, looking over at them – having completely lost interest in the game she'd been playing with the boys.

Hank put his hand over the lid. "These are the stories," he knows. "His memories."

She gave a little nod, thinking that was it. But then he'd reached and lifted the lid. She gazed into the box. It was mostly photos but she could see ticket stubs and programs from plays – both from professional productions and clearly her children's school productions. There were some dried flowers and some old VHS tapes and CD-ROMS, that presumably contained videos and photos of the family. And little bits of children's artwork, plaster handprints and homemade Mother's Day cards.

She could hardly move looking at it. But she hadn't had to. Hank had reached it and grabbed a small stack of the photos. He smiled sadly at the one on top, handing it off to her. It was a wedding picture. He looked so young – younger than her. And his wife was radiant in it. Just glowing with a bright, happy smile that spread from ear to ear.

"She's beautiful," Natalie whisper.

He grunted and handed her the next one. His wife on the couch with a still red, near newborn infant curled on her chest.

"That's Justin," he told her, tapping at it carefully with his fingernail.

More photos got handed to her. The three kids in the back of the house in a Chicago winter much like what they were having that year – up to their armpits in snow and the makings of a snowman in progress. There was his older son in hockey uniforms and at football games. Ethan as a much littler boy in front of a T-ball stand readying to take a swing. A shirtless Hank in a boat with a young Justin proudly holding up a large catch they'd clearly just reeled in. Erin in a prom dress and all the kids in caps and gowns from graduations clearly ranging from preschool to high school. And Erin with her two parents smiling brightly again in her full blues on what must've been her graduation day from the police academy. Kids making silly faces at the camera and wrapping their arms around their mother's neck. Hank and his wife smiling and gazing at each other – clearly still in love – at Christmases and birthdays and in backyards and had picnics and against fall foliage and in hockey arenas. His wife decked out like she'd just come home from a long hike and camping trip – covered in dirt but still with that wide grin.

The last photo Hank handed her was Hank, his wife, and a smaller Ethan – his face not yet mangled – sitting at the end of the table with a birthday cake in front of them. The round cake was clearly a decorating attempt that hadn't gone quite as planned and had ultimately just ended up with a plastic dinosaur and a number 7 candle sitting on top of it amidst its near neon green icing. But they were all smiling at the camera – classic safari hats that she suspected were more supposed to look like paleontologist dig hats – sitting on top of each of their heads. Ethan was cheekily looking right into the camera while Hank and his wife had caught each other's eyes and Hank was clearly laughing at whatever she'd just said before the shutter clicked.

"That was just a few weeks before we lost her," he said flatly.

She gave him a sad smile and gazed at the photo. "Ethan looks so much like her," she muttered.

"Mmm," Hank allowed and took that photo and the rest of the pile back from her, reverently placing them back into the box and shutting the lid. "Looks like her, acts like her. Is her in a whole lot of ways."

"I'm afraid that my baby …" she trailed off but then found his eyes. "I don't know if I can handle that."

Hank shrugged. "It's hard," he conceded. "But it's nice to still have her here."

"I don't know if I'm ready for this," she said.

He let a little snort and gave her a thin smile. His eyes got gentler and he reached and tapped her cheek in a way she'd seen him do to both Erin and Ethan at the hospital. Something about it felt exceedingly comforting.

"No one's ready for what you're going for," he rasped. "But you're gonna do just fine."

The thin smile had remained on her for a moment. His eyes really looking into hers in a way that almost made her want to cry. And then his hand had dropped away and he'd wordlessly turned and gone back into the kitchen.

She'd just stood there for a long moment, staring off into the corner and trying to compose herself. Somehow – even though she didn't really know Hank Voight – hearing him say that she'd do just fine made it feel like maybe she would. Hearing it from someone who had waded through something at least vaguely similar to what she was experiencing. And he was doing it. His family was doing it.

She shifted her eyes and saw that the game had all but stopped in the front room. Will's eyes were on her – filled with concern. But she gave him a thin smile and swiped quickly at her eyes – pushing away any tears that still might want to come out.

She walked to the front room, finding a place on the couch next to Will and gazing at the scattered pigs on the table.

"OK, who's winning?" she asked. "Because you're about to go down. I'm going to get that prize."

And she was. She felt it. There was going to be a whole lot of reward at the end of all this. There had to be.


	29. Allowance

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

***** **AUTHOR NOTE: This chapter comes before Force Awakens. I'll reorder the chapters after I've caught up with the writing of the NYE and the Jay/Ethan one-on-one. For now, check the note and hopefully don't get too confused. ********

Voight walked into the front room and stopped to watch his boy for a moment.

Ethan'd reconfigured his rover thing to add a disc launcher to it and was navigating it around the area, shooting the damn things as Bear chased after it, yelping and chewing on the little foam discs in a way that was likely going to mean they were going to need replacing some time soon. The gnawed on and mucked up things weren't likely to fit back into the launcher and shoot off none too easily after the pup was done with them. Magoo had wires running to his fucking Jurassic Park dinosaur – hooked up to the computer – and the thing seemed to be registering each time the toy was actually getting hit by one of the foam bullets (or knocked around by Bear), and Hank watched as a tally on the computer screen went up and up. Magoo was smiling as he was making the shots and manipulating the robot around the dog and the dinosaur.

"Magoo," Hank rasped at him and his boy glanced at him with questioning eyes. "Wanna see you in the kitchen."

Ethan frowned at him. Likely figured he was about to be force fed – or worse be made to sit at the table until he put away one of his nutrient shakes. But even though the kid's shoulders slumped and he looked back to his toy – revving in around a couple more times before he put down the makeshift controller – he did listen. Stopping the play and working to drag himself up off the floor. So Hank went back into the kitchen and took a seat, waiting for his kid to navigate his way there.

Magoo appeared. He was doing a bit better that day, it seemed. Was just using the one crutch on his bad side rather than the two. Voight wasn't sure that was the best bet for getting him back on his feet and his strength back but he was holding his tongue about it for the moment. Would take it up at the kid's rehab later in the week instead. Though, he was definitely of the opinion that Eth was faster moving when he was using the two things to propel himself along.

His boy, though, gave him an incredulous look as he entered the kitchen. Voight knew why. He'd pulled down Magoo's allowance jars and had them sitting in front of him, along with a paper and pen. A separate pile of notes was next to it – Hank's seasonal budget for the kid that he'd started bring his boy in on to drill into him an understanding about what their family's income actually looked like. What they could afford. How they needed to stretch things. Always had been that way – no matter what Justin thought he heard or knew about this street tax business or what else had been in that safe in the basement a year ago. That cash didn't belong to their family – wasn't for them. And now it was gone anyhow.

"Sit down," Voight said and gestured at the chair across from him.

Ethan squinted at him. Voight could see his hesitance but he just waited. Kid wasn't likely to retreat. Magoo knew that would only bring him more grief. So even though he did it sullenly, he came over and slumped into the chair, gazing at the jars and the cash in them.

Hank reached and took a new jar that was in the row. He picked up the Sharpie that was on the table and scribbled on its label and then set it on the paper he had sitting in front of his boy.

"What's it say?" Hank put to him.

Ethan gazed at the jar. A little too long. Voight weighed if he was having trouble making out the word or if his kid just didn't want to acknowledge what was coming to be. "Bear," he said quietly.

Hank nodded. "Pets don't come cheap," he said. "He's your dog. Your gonna be helping out with the cost of his care."

Ethan let out a defeated sound and eyed him. Hank knew why. Kid only got so much allowance and he already made him split it multiple ways in his efforts to teach him about budgeting and saving and taking ownership over your money and prioritizing items you wanted and needed in your life. Kid didn't get a heft allowance and it only went so far. This was going to make him reprioritize and redistribute again. Eth didn't much like it. Didn't have the free flow of cash that a lot of the kids around him seemed to get. Do whatever the hell they wanted. Get given everything they wanted. Spoiled rotten. Only got worse when the kids hit high school and wanted brighter, shiny and fancier things – every release cycle. But that just wasn't how it worked with his kids. And he'd already gone through the whining and negotiation about it with his previous two kids. It'd be another thing he'd be going through a third round of with Ethan. Though, he was doing it a bit differently with Magoo. At least for now. Might loosen up some and give him some more control after he'd established some habits in him and made him see some of the logic behind his methods.

"So first we're going to talk some about what that mutt needs," Hank said and nodded at the pen. Ethan eyed it but with another little huff picked up the pen and gazed at him. "So what's he need?" Hank asked when the kid stared at him for a long beat.

"Food …" Ethan allowed.

He nodded. "Write it down." He watched as Ethan worked at his slow, messy scrawl. "What else?" he put to him again when his son glanced at him.

Ethan shrugged. "A collar?"

Another nodded. "Leash too," he said as his boy started to write. As he finished he looked at him again. "What else?" Hank said again.

"I don't know," Ethan said defeatedly. "… A ball or something, I guess."

"OK," Hank shrugged and let his kid get that down. But didn't say anything when Ethan again looked at him expectantly. He waited to see if the kid would come up with anything else, keeping his hands folded across his abdomen and just eyeing him so Ethan would get the point they weren't done. Yet, he didn't offer up any other ideas. "Think you're missing some important stuff on that list," he finally told his boy.

Ethan gazed at him a moment longer and then suggested "… a bowl?"

"Sure," Hank gestured. "But I think you better get a crate on that list."

"A crate?" Ethan squinted at him and then looked down as Bear joined them in the kitchen, putting his paws on his son's leg, looking for some more attention and affection. Ethan petted at his head.

"The mutt ain't going to be pissing all over this house after you're back in school and we're both outta here all day," Hank said. "Got to get something set up for him to be locked up in."

Ethan gazed at him with some mild horror. "You're going to lock him in a cage?" he gaped.

"A nice cage," Hank clarified. "With food and blankets and some shit for him to chew on."

Ethan sighed and gazed at the list, reluctantly writing that instructed item down.

"You're still missing about the top three things your mutt is going to need for proper care and pet ownership," Voight told him as the pen stopped moving.

Magoo glanced at him and then examined the paper. He clearly wasn't connecting the dots. But he'd never had a pet before and Ethan was Ethan. Sometimes it took pretty in your face methods to get him to connect the dots even with common sense things.

Hank held up a finger at him. "Vet visit," he said and flipped up another finger. "His shots." And a third finger came up. "Getting him registered."

"Registered?"

Hank nodded. "It's the law kid. Need to tell the city and pay up if you're going to have a dog. Prove he's got all his shots and that he's yours now." Ethan just gazed at him with a frown pulling at his mouth. "Write 'em down."

The pen hovered over the page. "I don't know how to spell registered," Ethan said quietly.

Hank patiently rasped out the spelling for him. Then he sat waiting while Ethan worked at getting the other items written out. Didn't much matter he was spelling the one word for him. Voight didn't need to look at the paper to know the other items on the list would likely be misspelled – or at least illegible.

Ethan finally looked at him again. He could tell the kid was hesitating even after finishing getting the words down on paper. But Hank just gestured at the paper again.

"How much you think the things on that list cost?" he asked.

"A lot," Ethan said dejectedly.

Voight nodded. "A lot," he agreed. "So you're going to have to take that into account with your budgeting now."

Ethan let out a little sigh. "Dad, I can't afford all this," he said with a bit of an edge.

Voight just found his eyes. "And right there's a reason why we shoulda had a family talk about this dog thing before your sister went and dragged him home."

Ethan gave him a pathetic look and gazed down at his pup. "You aren't gonna make us take him back, are you?" he asked timidly.

Hank sat back in his chair. "No," he put flatly and Ethan's eyes found his. "This family took on a commitment when Erin brought him home – and this family lives up to the commitments it makes. But that means you're gonna to have to make sacrifices to live up to those commitments you've made to this animal. You understand?"

"Yes," Ethan said quietly. He clearly didn't much like it but he wasn't going to fight it. He'd been around long enough to know how those battles went. He was usually on the losing side.

"OK," Voight nodded at his seeming acceptance of how this was going to go and leaned forward a bit, putting his elbows on the table and pulling the list closer to him, folding his hands over top. Ethan slowly looked back at him from the mutt. "You're in luck, though," he said, "because he ain't just your dog. He's the family dog." Ethan blinked at him. "So we're all," he stressed, "going to be putting in a financial contribution to making sure he's properly cared for."

Ethan's eyes brightened a bit – and Hank tapped on the paper. "Your sister has agreed she's gonna handle his first vet visit and shots. OK?"

"Yea," Ethan agreed eagerly.

Hank nodded again. "I'll handle the crate, bowls, collar and leash."

"But I can help pick his collar, right?" Ethan interjected.

"Ethan, you are gonna be right next to me seeing how much all this shit costs," Hank stressed at him. "And, you decide this mutt needs toys – and babies need some toys, Eth, don't matter if it's a person or a dog. So it don't matter the price tag, you're at least getting him a few things to chew on that aren't my furniture or boots. And each of those things – you're paying for."

"OK …" Ethan said and looked at him speculatively. Kid likely didn't have a clue how much fucking dog toys cost. Getting him a pack of tennis balls was fine but the damn thing was likely going to need something more than that to rip apart.

"You're also paying for his registration," Hank told him bluntly.

His son gaped. "But, Dad –"

"No buts," he said. "You been asking for a dog, your sister got you one. You're going to follow the rule of the law and get him tagged and squared away with the city."

"That likely costs a fortune," Ethan muttered.

"Five bucks a year," Hank put to him flatly.

Ethan glanced up from his depressed gaze at the table and drummed his fingers on it, gazing at the jars that contained his divvied up cash.

"You're also gonna be helping pay for his food," Hank said. Ethan gaped again. "More good news for you, Halstead's agreed with the engagement, Bear's his family too. So we're going be splitting the cost four ways – not three."

Ethan gazed at him. "What about J and Olive and H?" he tried.

Hank gave him a look. "They living here to have anything to do with the mutt?"

"No," Ethan allowed, "but they're family."

Hank shook his head. Reality was that though he'd made clear to Erin she'd be helping out with some of the start-up costs after tossing this mutt into the house – Hank didn't much expect her to be paying for its daily and monthly care. Helping deal with its daily care when she was at the house and Magoo wasn't taking it out for walks or picking up its shit because he was laid up in bed or their city was under five feet of snow – but not paying for it. He was just putting the scenario out there for his boy to keep things as simple as possible without overwhelming the kid.

"We're throwing you a bone here with Halstead stepping to the plate to help you out, Kiddo." Ethan sighed again and looked at the jars, his hand still on Bear's head, scratching between his ears. "So until we figure out how much this guy eats and how much a bag of food costs – lets say we're looking at a bag costing us about twenty bucks a month." He reached and snagged a calculator he had sitting on the table and pushed it across to Magoo. "How much you gonna be contributing a month?"

Ethan gazed at the old bulky calculator for a moment. Kids were so used to doing everything on their phones anymore. But Hank didn't hesitate in pulling out the old standbys. Sometimes the old technology was easier than all this new shit. His boy was used to the calculator anyway – they had it out enough in dealing with his allowance each week – and he worked at typing in the numbers, figuring out the math problem.

"Five dollars," Ethan told him.

Hank nodded and then reached to grab the small pile of small bills that made up Ethan's allowance. He handed it over to him and then reached and twisted the lid off the jar labeled "Bear."

"So, how much you putting in there right now?" he asked.

Ethan looked reluctantly out at the pile but obediently stuffed the two fivers into the jar while giving him a frown.

"OK," Hank said. "How much you got left?"

"Two dollars," Ethan mumbled.

"Mmm," Hank grunted. "That's not going to go very far in getting your mutt some toys."

Ethan gazed at the bills in his hand. "I could likely get him a ball or something at the 99 cent store?" he suggested quietly.

"Mmm …" Hank acknowledged again but reached and grabbed the jar labeled 'savings' and plopped it closer to his son. "Or …"

Ethan looked at the jar glumly – again, Hank knew why. Kid hadn't had much of anything to spend his money on since being home. Not with the way his health and been and the way he isolated himself. Sure, he spent some here and there, but a whole lot of his allowance had ended up in his savings jar. Because Ethan had an endless list of things he was saving for – things he thought he needed to fit in and to function. And, he'd finally saved up about enough to spend some of it on one of those coveted items.

Ethan slowly reached across the table and put his finger on the jar labeled 'Needs'. "What about that one?" he asked quietly.

Hank shook his head. There was a good chunk of cash in it but that wasn't what that cash was for. It was for field trips and school lab fees and sports registration and any clubs or activities he got involved with. Thing was his boy hadn't done any of that in the fall – so the budget Hank had given him for it had gone mostly untouched beyond a material fee for his woodworking class and a trip the art gallery that they'd taken the kids on.

"That's not what that cash is for, Magoo," he said.

"But I've been saving and saving, Dad," he whined. The first real whine of the conversation. But Hank had known it was only a matter of time before they started escaping his kid's mouth.

"Yea," Hank said. "And in life we save for things we want but we also put money away so when unexpected things come up we've got cash to handle it. Something came up – you got a dog, you want to keep the dog, so you've gotta work out how you're going to pay for him. You're gonna have to put some of your savings towards dealing with these start up costs of getting him established in our house."

Ethan sighed pathetically at him and pulled the jar over to him. "How much do I have to spend on his stupid toys?" he muttered, twisting the lid off.

Hank shook his head. "You think I ask 'how much do I have to spend on his stupid toys' when your birthday and Christmas come around?"

"Yes," Ethan hissed at him.

He tapped with a finger on the table until Ethan met his line of sight. "No," he said. "I think about what you want and what you need – hear you out on it, realize that you need even toys that I think are kinda stupid for your growth and development, and then I figure out my budget and I go pick something out for ya."

Ethan sighed at him, as he twisted the lid off. "Now I'm not goin' to be able to afford my tablet or console," he muttered.

"Maybe not for a couple more weeks," Hank said and watched as Ethan dug out some bills.

"Is twenty enough?" he sighed.

Hank allowed another little nod and pointed at the Bear jar. "Think that's a good amount to take to the store as a start," he said.

Another huff but his son did as he was told and than sat there giving him a bit of a defiant glare. Hank didn't bother commenting. Pre-teens were just the start of the defiance. This was nothing compared to what he'd be having to deal with in a year or two.

"So what you going to do with that two bucks you got left from your allowance?" Hank asked as his boy finished up. Ethan looked down at the cash and let out a loud sigh but reached to put them in the 'Bear' jar too, but Hank put his hand over the top. "You got some other stuff you need to attend to," he said and directed his eyes at the 'gifts', 'charity', and 'pocket money' jars.

The gift and charity jars were empty. Magoo had done a good job at saving up some cash and helping out with presents at Christmas. And they'd emptied out his charity jar – Hank matching the amount his son had put in there – and got it donated before the holidays. It looked like he might have about three bucks in coins in his spending money jar. Ethan didn't spend his dough on much other than adding to his baseball card and dinosaur card collection these days – to the point that there'd been some weeks the kid hadn't even bothered to set aside some spending cash for himself, despite Hank encouraging him to. Got to spend some money on yourself sometimes. Helps with your sanity. You just needed to be smart about how and where you were spending it. That's what he was trying to teach him.

Ethan gazed between the three jars and let out a sigh. "I'll just spend it on Bear," he conceded.

Hank nodded some small approval but tapped on top of the charity jar. "You know I expect you to be filling this jar with at least fifty bucks by the end of the year. Means you gotta be putting a buck in there nearly every week, Magoo."

Ethan sighed again. "It's just the second day of January, Dad," he huffed. "I've got all year."

"Yea, you got all year, but you get behind on this responsibility as a citizen of this city and I'm gonna have you playing catch up later," he said.

Ethan had liked picking a charity to donate to when they'd started talking about that. But the civic spirit of actually parting with the cash and doing something for others in the community wasn't sitting with him too well yet. Hank figured that year, he'd be drilling it into him a bit more – get him volunteering a bit, seeing some things to show him that he really didn't have things so bad and he could be helping out other people in a whole lot of ways. A little bit of cash and a little bit of his time could mean a whole lot to people who didn't have much and needed a hand up. It was another lesson his kid was going to learn. Definitely had been one he hadn't taught to J well enough. But it'd been one that Erin had lived and he trusted that she wouldn't tolerate Eth's attitude on the matter too much longer either. Times he could be a boy – other times he had to be a young man. This was one of them.

His boy made a noise but reached and placed a buck in the jar. Hank nodded his approval. "What you going to do with the last one?"

"Bear …" Ethan muttered.

Hank sat back in his chair and watched him move toward placing the bill. "Want a piece of advice?" he asked.

"You're going to tell me whether I want it or not," Ethan said under his breath.

"Yea, I am," Hank agreed and sat forward to tap the to of the 'gifts' jar that time. "Way I handle saving up for Christmas is putting a bit away each pay check. Means that when November rolls around I'm not hauling out the credit cards and spending money this family don't got. You did a good job saving up and contributing to Christmas this year, Magoo," he said. "I'm real proud of you. But I saw how most of your cash was ending up in that jar for the last bit before the holidays so you could do that. Might be just the start of the year – but you start putting even a buck a week a way now, you're going to have about fifty-bucks sitting there by the time you are doing your shopping."

Ethan puckered at him and thought on it a moment but then nodded and handed him the buck to put in the jar. Hank did and then grabbed the 'needs' jar and the 'clothes' jar and put them forward, drawing the 'Bear' and 'Savings' jar back into the row. Then he lifted up the wad of cash he had sitting in front of him.

"Got your buck-fifty for the winter," he told him. "Now we're gonna talk about how we're gonna to divvy it up."

Ethan sighed at him and shrugged. His eyes moved over to where Bear had found something to scratch and lick at the floor by the door. Likely a sign that they were going to have to get around to doing some cleaning around the place that weekend.

Hank tapped the clothes jar anyway. "You think you're going to want some new clothes this winter?"

Another shrug. "You said I need new uniforms," Ethan mumbled.

Hank shook his head. "You know I deal with that. We're talking civies."

Ethan shrugged again. "No," he mumbled even more.

Hank just watched him. "Think you could use a new pair of jeans," he told him. "You been talking about wanting some flannel too." Kid just shrugged. "Ethan, you don't participate and either I'll divvy this up where I see fit or you aren't going to get the winter budget at all."

"I already have lots of money in that jar," he said and pointed a finger at the 'needs' jar.

"OK," Hank said gruffly and nudged that one forward a bit more. "Let's talk about it first."

"We don't need to talk," Ethan said. "There's lots of cash in it."

Hank sighed at him. "You think you're going to be doing any activities this winter, Magoo?" he asked evenly.

"No," Ethan spat.

"What about boxing?" Hank suggested.

Ethan gave him an annoyed look. "I can't box anymore."

"You can't compete anymore," Hank put firmly. "You can still go and hang out with the kids. Train."

Ethan firmly shook his head and Hank slumped back into his chair, giving his kid an unimpressed look. "What about sledge hockey?" he asked. "You seemed pretty interested in that when we were out at the rink." The kid again shook his head firmly. Hank looked down, squeezing at the bridge of his nose. "You think you're going to want to try any of the kids' program at RIC?" he muttered.

"Why do you keep bugging me about this?" Ethan pressed at him angrily.

Hank gave him a firm look with the raised voice. His kid didn't get to talk to him that way. Wasn't time for him to get too big for his breeches. "Because I'm your father and I'm worried that my kid isn't getting out there and making friends and participating in some fucking activities, Ethan. You can't just hide away in a fucking hole because you aren't feeling well. You need to test your bounds. Learn to live within your limits. Because you can still fucking enjoy things and be out there doing things even if it's not running the fucking bases."

Ethan just examined the table. "Can I go now?" he asked.

"No," Hank pressed. "We're still talking about this."

"I don't want to talk about it," Ethan whispered.

Hank just gazed at the top of his boy's head. He just couldn't figure out how to get Ethan to agree to take advantage of some of the programming at the Rehab Institute – beyond dragging him there kicking and screaming. And, really, if by the spring he hadn't agreed to try out some of the programming on his own accord, Hank thought he'd likely be dragging him there kicking and screaming. Because – enough.

The institute offered softball for the kids. The sledge hockey. Karate, judo, horseback riding, swimming. Fucking day camps and summer camps taking them to the museums and bowling and theater. Setting up just about every imaginable opportunity to let these kids try modified activities so they could still participate. Directing them to leagues so they could still compete. Letting them meet and interact with other kids with similar challenges to them. But Ethan just kept on putting up roadblocks. Refusing. And sometimes it made Hank want to punch a hole in a wall. He just didn't know how to talk sense to his son on this. And it seemed like no one at the fucking Rehab Institute was either.

"What about your robots club?" he asked instead, trying his best to keep his upset out of his voice.

Ethan gave him a little glance. "I'm not goin' to get in."

"If you do get in," Hank stressed, "does it got equipment fees or tournament fees or something?"

Ethan shrugged. "I don't know."

Hank just sighed at him and gazed at the jars. "You comfortable with us splitting it fifty-fifty for now? After you get back in class, we get any paperwork from the school showing things are going to cost more than we thought, we'll adjust it."

"There's already lots of money in that jar," Ethan hissed again.

"Ethan," Hank pressed firmly. "It may look like a lot of dough, but as soon as you figure out something you're actually going to do – registration fees, equipment fees – it's going to add up quick."

"I'm not spending it," Ethan said.

Hank drilled his eyes into him. "Your choices here are, I split up the cash fifty-fifty like I just said, I put the full amount in the clothing budget and we go out and let you pick some warmer clothes that fit, or you don't get your winter budget at all and that means I don't hear you asking about clothes or school, club, sport fees until Easter."

"You're being mean …" Ethan said under his breath, not keeping his eyes.

"This ain't mean, Kiddo," he said. "This is a reality check about how money and budgeting works in this house and it's letting you participate in the decisions about where the cash goes."

Ethan traced his finger along the table for a long time, slumped forward, and Hank just let him. Let him think it out. Maul it over.

"Fifty-fifty," Ethan finally said quietly.

"OK," Hank agreed and counted out the bills, splitting them between the two jars and then looked back to his son's still downcast head. "Look at me," he ordered. Ethan looked up. He had the sad little boy look. "Don't start that," he said.

"You're acting like you're mad at me and I didn't do anything," Ethan said.

"I'm not mad," Hank said. "I keep telling you, you need to learn how to manage money."

"I'm twelve," Ethan muttered.

"Yea," Hank agreed. "And don't you think you should be learning now and not when you're in your twenties and trying to start a family and set-up house?"

"So I'm in trouble again because J messed up," Ethan said with a touch of anger.

"No," Hank said. "I'm teaching you a life skill and including you in household decisions that affect how we spend money as a family. That's putting a whole lot of responsibility on you and trust in you. I didn't hand that responsibility and trust to your brother or sister at your age."

"They got allowance," Ethan protested. "And they got to play sports and stuff without all these stupid jars."

Hank sat back and folded his hands across himself again. "Yea, they did. And, you know, I've had both of them come to me in their twenties asking me for money I don't got to give them."

Ethan eyed him. "You give them money," he said.

Hank shrugged. "I help them out when I can, how I can," he acknowledged. "But haven't been able to hand them the kind of cash they think they need for some of the bigger things they've bought or wanted. And that stuff, it ain't my responsibility to be paying for either, Magoo. That's things they should've learned to work for and pay for themselves. And both of them this year have done a whole lot of learning about just how far a savings account will and won't go and how much they should be putting away and budgeting for household and life. That's not something I can have you learning in your twenties. I'm going to be coming up on retirement. We only have so much disposable income now, Eth. There's not going to be a lot by the time you come asking for my help on things like cars or condos or college or a new baby on the scene. You need to learn how to save and prioritize now."

"It's not fair," Ethan pouted.

"Life's not fair," Hank said. "But I'm doing my best to get you set up with the know-how so it goes a bit smoother for you."

Hank gazed at his slumped body but then rose from his chair and rounded the table, wrapping his arm around Ethan's shoulder and pulling him into his abdomen in a loose, one-armed hug. The kid just slumped against him. So he rubbed at his bicep a bit.

"Magoo, just know that I'm real proud of you. And I know there's lots of good things ahead for you. And we're just working on making sure you have the means and the ability to get at those things."

"Yea …" Ethan muttered sullenly.

So Hank just shook at his shoulder again. "C'mon, get the jar and the mutt. We'll take a drive and see about getting him officially established."

Get the dog officially established. Get his boy established in life in the process. That was the plan. Hopefully it worked out that way too. Eventually.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Still going to do the Jay/Ethan chapter. Just a little stuck on what to hit on with their dialogue. Will figure it out eventually.**


	30. Force Awakens

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **AUTHOR NOTE: THIS IS A REORDERING TO MOVE FORCE AWAKENS. BUT PLEASE NOT IT SEEMS THE MAJORITY OF READERS HAVE MISSED THE CHAPTER ENTITLED 'SMOKEHOUSE' and the CHAPTER ENTITLED 'FIREWORKS'. THERE was also a chapter between those two that might've been missed. FF has been weird with the posting, alerts and bumping on the list. You may want to check to see if you missed the chapters.**

Erin wrapped her arm loosely around Ethan's shoulder as he got to the bottom of the steps in the theater and they started to make their way to the exit. He was all smiles and that made her smile too. A lot.

"That was so awesome," Ethan gushed. "We definitely have to see it again. Can we see it again?" he looked at her with such hopeful eyes. "Like now!"

She laugh at him and reached back to give Jay's hand a squeeze as they trudged along at the back of the pack toward the door. Ethan had initially said he didn't want to see Star Wars. That Justin was supposed to take him and Justin had ruined it and now he just didn't care anymore. Erin had known that was a lie. Ethan was going to want to be up-to-date on the film so he could try to get included in conversations when he got back to school.

But it hadn't been her who'd talked Ethan into going – it'd been Jay, by expressing his supposedly undying desire to see the film. She really didn't think he cared that much. Though, Jay could be a little geeky in his own ways sometimes. But she still didn't think he really gave a shit if he saw Star Wars then or weeks or months from now – on a big screen or just on the televisions when it released there. The thing was he knew that Ethan cared – even if he was putting on a show about not. Yet, it'd been presented in a way like they were doing Jay a favor by going to the movie. And, apparently, Ethan didn't mind helping Jay out with that.

"Maybe you should watch some of the old ones before we see it again," Jay had interjected.

Ethan had had a whole lot of questions during the show. He'd started out whispering them at her but she'd set him on Jay. She'd seen Star Wars. She thought she'd likely seen more than one. But she had never really cared enough to know who was who or what was what or why people were going nuts in the theater at certain points. Let Jay manage explaining all of that – because he seemed to actually know the answer, which had also been a little concerning. Maybe he was slightly geekier than she thought. She knew he liked – past-tense – the boy-ish videogames. And that he had a thing for some pretty bad super hero movies. And documentaries. Awful, awful late night documentaries that likely only Jay was up watching. But Star Wars movies? If she'd known that sooner it might've been a deal breaker. At least he didn't have an paraphernalia (visible) at his apartment. Not that Jay did clutter. His apartment was way too organized to have something that didn't have a "use" or a "purpose" – or a place.

She hadn't realized, though, how little Ethan knew about Star Wars. She would've thought that he would've at least absorbed some of it from other kids. It seemed like Star Wars had been everywhere for years now. Even she knew enough about it – and could visibly identify a Star Wars character, even if she couldn't name them – to know that. But Ethan seemed clueless. It either confirmed how little he actually got to interact with kids or just how rattled his brain was. Sometimes she wondered what he retained. Sometimes it seemed like it wasn't much if it wasn't dinosaurs or baseball. Or apparently circuitry.

Ethan glanced at Jay. "Have you got them?" he asked.

"Ahh …," he said, giving her a look as her eyes examined him in anticipation of his answer. "I've got the first ones," he confirmed carefully. "Like the originals. Episode Four through Six."

Ethan's eyes lit up more. "Can I borrow them?"

Jay shrugged, even though her eyes were laughing at him and he was giving her a total 'shut up' look. "Sure," he allowed.

"Wait!" Ethan near shouted and looked back at Jay again, slowing them so they were no longer walking a step in front of him. "Maybe I should watch the real first ones first?"

"No, you should definitely watch these – which are the real first ones – first," Jay said.

Erin rolled her eyes. "I hope you aren't planning on watching them together," she muttered.

But Ethan's eyes grew even more at that and he glowed at Jay. "You want to watch them together, Jay?" he asked.

"Sure," Jay shrugged.

Though, Erin wasn't sure that was entirely true either. When Ethan had previously planned to watch the entire Star War franchise on New Year's Eve – before Justin had gone and broken his heart – even Jay had expressed that was way too much Star Wars for a single sitting. Erin was more of the opinion that it was way too much Star Wars for an entire lifetime.

But even though she wasn't really into Star Wars at all. She was glad she'd come. The movie hadn't been awful. It was definitely a movie for kids Ethan's age. There were definitely a lot more families in the theater than not. She'd sort of been surprised by that. She'd almost been expecting it to be completely full of gross fanboys in full-on costume. Maybe they'd missed that with not getting Ethan to it until a couple weeks after the thing's release. A small bonus of him being stuck in the hospital for a chunk of December. If he hadn't been, he likely would've been at her – because there was no way Hank would've gotten on board – to take him its first weekend.

The biggest thing, though, was seeing Ethan smile. And these days, she really strove for that. He deserved it. He'd had a rough year and even though she had the highest hopes that this year was going to look up – she knew that he was still going to have his challenges. They all were. And she knew he was dreading Monday coming around and him being tossed back into the water that was St. Iggy's. Sink or swim. Ethan mostly managed to tread water but it seemed like he was constantly taking gulps of water – mostly because other kids were splashing at him all the time or at least making waves around him, if not all out holding him under until he managed to struggle to the surface again. It was just nice to give a few nice things – fun things – before his holiday period was over. And it was nice to get to share them with him. To see him happy and excited about something.

It actually made her a little sad for Justin that he'd fucked up the movie outing so badly. He could've shared this with Ethan – but no. He couldn't let either of them enjoy it. He had to turn it into a thing. Justin always had to turn things into things – things they didn't need to be. It was so fucking annoying and the older they got the more tiresome it was.

She hadn't talked to him since they'd left. Not on New Year's. Not on Hank's usual weekend Skype with Henry. Ethan hadn't either.

He wasn't ready. He was hurt. Upset. Sometimes Erin worried there were only going to be so many times that Ethan let Justin hurt or upset him before he completely cut his brother out. If Justin wasn't careful that might happen sooner than he thought. Erin thought they all knew – or at least her and Hank seemed to – that Ethan's teens were going to be a rough go. He was likely going to have a lot of rage and anger. Thankfully Hank had some experience dealing with that. Both her and Justin had put him through it in their own ways. But it was going to be different with Ethan and it was going to be primetime for him to push people away, if not cut them out entirely. And if Justin wasn't careful, it might be him who ended up on the chopping block. And that was the kind of elimination that would damage their relationship in a way that might take years to repair. And Justin wasn't as patient or as dedicated about those kinds of things as Hank. Maybe he'd grow to be know that he was a father too, but Erin still found that he had a lot of growing up to do before his understanding and his parenting became a real valid consideration in the equation. Sometimes she really felt like she understood more about parenting and caring for a child than Justin did.

But since Justin had fucked up – it was her and Jay who got to share the experience with her baby brother. And, she got the sense that it was an experience and a memory that he'd cling on to for a while. He still talked about them going to see Jurassic World in the summer. It said something about the lack of volume in terms of movies in the cinemas that Ethan had gotten to see in his lifetime. He wasn't exactly a spoiled kid. So getting to go to a movie was still special to him. It was still exciting and they'd gotten to be a part of it. Jay too.

Sometimes she thought Jay understood more about parenting – and maybe more about being a big brother, despite having been the younger brother – than Justin did too.

"You can definitely watch those without me," Erin said anyways, though. Because even though she liked sharing in Ethan's excitement – she didn't feel the need to share in it that much.

Ethan glanced longingly at the box office as they headed through the glass doors to the outside. "Maybe we could still see it again, though …?" he pressed.

Erin shook her head. "Ethan, we just walked out of it. We aren't seeing it again right now."

He made a little sound but Jay reached out and scruffed at his hair – yanking the beanie he had propped up on the crown of his head down over his ears. "We still have lunch on the menu, Kid. No time to watch it again now."

"BURGERS," Ethan said with raised eyebrow.

Erin cast him a look. "Not burgers – not unless you want to eat it wrapped up in lettuce."

Ethan gagged at her. "That's not a burger. It's meat salad."

She tried to keep the smile from tugging at her lips but moved her laughing eyes to Jay who seemed slightly amused too. "Not burgers," she pushed at him again.

"Not burgers," he confirmed.

"OK," she allowed and reached and knocked at Ethan's shoulder. "So behave and I'll see you guys in a couple hours."

Ethan looked at her. "You're not coming?"

She shrugged. "I already crashed your guys' hot movie date."

"It wasn't a DATE," Ethan protested harshly.

Erin nodded. "You're right," she agreed, giving Jay a teasing look. "Because if it was, I'd be pretty upset about him cheating on me."

"I think you were cheating on me in the theater," Jay put back to her. "I saw how you were looking at Han Solo."

"That's Indiana Jones," Ethan said.

Erin barely acknowledged he spoke and instead gave Jay a more teasing look. "Those eyes were actually for Chewy."

"Oh …" Jay nodded and rubbed at the scruff on his face. "And here I thought you wanted me to shave this."

"I do," she confirmed and leaned in to share a small kiss with him.

"Grossness," Ethan muttered.

Erin looked at her brother and smiled giving him a little smile and started to walk away. "Text me when you're done," she called over her shoulder.

She could feel Ethan watching her but didn't look back. They'd agreed that Jay would take some one-on-one time to talk to Ethan about the engagement and whatnot –and there could be a whole lot of whatnot with Ethan. She was honoring Jay's request to get that time. She figured she'd still end up having a lot of her own follow-up conversations with Ethan in the aftermath and there'd likely be a joint discussion – that might even have to bring in Hank – in the future too.

"C'mon," she heard Jay put to Ethan, "we can talk all about the grossness of all this over Korean BBQ."

She almost wanted to be a fly on the wall for that discussion. Grossness and all.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: There's a chapter before this posted today. I know FF doesn't seem to alert or bump stories if there's more than one update in a 24 hour period — so letting you know so you can go back and read if you missed it. Please review or comment. Feedback is appreciated.**


	31. Grilled

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **AUTHOR NOTE: This chapter comes immediately after Force Awakens. It will be reordered later.**

"I think like everyone in my class asked for BB-8," Eth babbled at Jay. "But I don't think you get to build him. I think it's like a remote control thing. Like a Sphero. Dad says that's a stupid toy."

"Ah … yeah …," Jay nodded, watching where Ethan's meat was starting to look like it was starting to stick to their grill at the Korean barbecue place. Truth was he didn't really know what a Sphero was. And he didn't really care. He did kind of care that the kinda of expensive lunch was starting to look like it might be reaching the point Eth might refuse to eat it.

"I think Spheros are kinda cool," Ethan continued to blather. "But it's kind of boring you don't get to build it."

"Yeah …" Jay agreed and reached with his tongs, testing where Eth had his beef. It was definitely reaching the point it was stuck to the grill. "Kit your Pop got you is pretty cool," he allowed, trying to move Eth's food a bit.

"Yea," Ethan nodded. "I built a rover yesterday. Like on Mars. Or like to look for bombs. Only it can fire bullets. Well. Foam discs. But if it was real, it could fire bullets. Anyway, Dad thinks it's cool. Sorta. At least he said he liked it."

"Ah … yeah …," Jay acknowledged again. "Eth, I really think your meat is done."

Ethan finally stopped gazing at him and glanced at the grill. "No, it's not," he disagreed.

"Ah, yeah," Jay pressed again. "I'm pretty sure it is." He tried to pull it off the metal with the tongs again and it again stuck to the thing but Ethan got in there with his tongs, batting his away.

"It's not how I like it yet," Ethan argued.

Jay gazed at him – weighing how much to push it. "Meat's sliced pretty thin for this kind of barbecue, bud," he tried.

"I know how to grill, Jay!"

Jay let out a little sound but backed off, moving to remove his own food from the hot plate and to his plate. He'd kind of thought that Ethan would like this place but he wasn't sure it was quite working out that way. The kid was in one of his picky moods. Not that Eth couldn't be in one of his picky moods. The shit he was and wasn't allowed to eat was a pretty exhaustive list. Though, he'd spent way too much time with Erin and the kid that fall to have committed way too much of the fucking thing to memory. Thought this place was a pretty good option. Thing was that so far only thing Eth was showing any interest in was cooking the beef until it was leather.

And Jay didn't get the impression he was really cooking it with the intention of eating it. The kid was in one of his chatty moods. Still hyped up from the movie. Which he guessed was good. Meant he enjoyed it. And, Erin would think it would good too. Because the longer Eth was hyped up the harder it meant he would crash – and crash in a pass out kinda way. Which would mean they could just escape rather than them hanging around because Erin was worried about the state of her little brother.

But despite Eth having one of his no-filter moments, they hadn't really delved into any of the topics that they were supposed to be talking about. Jay was kind of feeling it out, though. He'd kind of learned there was a lot to be said about letting Eth direct things the way he wanted to direct them. Though, he knew he'd have to nudge him a bit – because Erin was going to want to know how it went. And if it hadn't went – she'd end up just doing the whole talk herself. Which was fine. She could talk to him. He was her little brother. But Jay just wanted to make sure him and Eth had a bit of an understanding too. The kid deserved that much.

"You know how to grill, huh?" he put to Ethan.

Ethan shrugged at him and picked up the tongs, turning some attention to his leather, as if to prove it.

"Dad lets me help," he said.

Jay nodded in some acknowledgement. Voight and his fucking grill. He might've not guessed that about the guy but in retrospect, he should've. The guy was such a blue-collar, working guys' guy. He was the kind of guy who spent his summers at the grill. Charring meat. Drinking beer. Listening to ball on the radio. Pitching balls at his kid. Tinkering on fucking little home improvement projects around the house or in the back or on the car or the kids' bikes. When he was home.

Weird how he didn't much see that at the start. Just saw the bad ass cop. The guy you heard rumors about. Stories about. The guy who'd done a whole lot of work U.C. Who'd spent years in Gangs. Who had connections with a whole lot of people on the seedy side of Chicago in ways that didn't come across as just CI type relationships.

Jury was still out on what he did and didn't believe about the stories he heard about Voight. About how he felt and didn't feel about some of Voight's methods. If he was a good cop or a bad cop. A dirty cop. Though not dirty in a dirty way. Just did shit his own way for his own reasons. He had is own moral code. And, Jay supposed he could respect that up to a point – even though there were times he really fucking disagreed with it. It didn't always represented what he stood for. But he took some heed in knowing that it didn't always represent what Erin stood for. That she prickled at some of Voight's methods - some of the shit he pulled - just as much as Jay did. But she'd defend Voight to the grave. Fucking lay down in the dirt for him. Or for her family.

Maybe it was that slow realization that had swung Jay more and more about who the guy really was. What he really was like. Because for a father to have his kids feel that way about him – especially his grown children – there had to be something to him? Because Jay sure as fuck wouldn't lay his life down in the dirt for his own father.

But it'd been seeing that father side of Voight that had done him in a bit. His own father sure as fuck hadn't ever taught him to grill. Couldn't remember him ever grilling for the family at all – beyond some showy barbecues when he had over people they were supposed to impress with their best behavior. But that sure wasn't the reality Eth had. Jay fully acknowledged that the kid had gone through some fucked up things. That Voight had made some shitty choices about how to manage some of it. But in the now – that kid was really being looked after. Guided. Cared for.

"Dad would likely like this," Eth provided, finally transferring his leather to his plate and gazing at it.

"Don't know," Jay allowed. "Seems a bit more like a meat and potatoes guy."

Ethan gazed at him, processing that. "Sometimes he makes other stuff," he said. "Pasta. Eggs."

Jay allowed an amused smile at that and gave a little nod. He'd learned too that Voight was a damn good cook – but the stuff he put on the table was far from sophisticated and rarely was it anything that resembled anything ethnic.

"But this is grilling," Ethan defended. "And he likes grilling."

"Yea," Jay allowed with a shrug. "He does."

"He says it's a life skill."

Jay smiled a bit more at that. Voight preached at Ethan a lot. Eth was about the person that Jay saw Voight talk to the most – like actual sentences not just grunts. But probably the more amusing part was that Eth recited what his dad said to him like it was gospel. But Jay recognized there was a whole lot going on there. It was how Eth learned and retained things. And it was his little boy desire and excitement to be home and to be back with his dad – and the perceived approval that came with that. And then there was just the hold that Voight exercised over two of his three kids too. To a point. Erin and Ethan both talked back to him too. But definitely not as much as Justin in Jay's observation.

"That so?"

"Yeah," Ethan muttered, gnawing a bit on the well-well-well-done meat. Why he was even gnawing on the beef, Jay didn't know. The kid didn't even like beef. But apparently it was the least disgusting option of the meat available to him in the twelve year old's mind. "A man should know how to cook a meal for his family."

"Ah …" Jay allowed again.

Voight had lots of opinions and advice on what it meant to be a man and how to be the man of a household or raise a family. Jay got the sense he was going to have to try to politely listen to them without displaying too much attitude for the next long while. Or the rest of his life. He wasn't sure how thrilled he was about that aspect of being with Erin. But he'd pretty much accepted it was part of the deal. He mostly bit his tongue at work when he didn't agree with shit Voight said. Because that was part of the gig. He'd just have to learn to do that in his personal life too. Or tell Erin and let her tell of Voight. That was a possible solution too. Though, embarrassing in a different way.

He looked up from his cooking, though, and saw Eth looking at him expectantly after his shared advice. Jay raised an eyebrow at him – not sure what more the kid was wanting out of him.

"So do you know how to cook?" Eth said bluntly.

Jay shrugged. "Sure," he said and gestured at the hot plate. "I'm cooking."

Eth squinted at the squid he had the grill with some disgust. "Like real cooking," the kid pressed at him.

"A second ago grilling was real cooking," Jay said.

"No," Eth said, "grilling on a barbecue is real cooking this is like … I don't know. They're letting like two-year-olds do it," he said and gestured across the restaurant where a family of very frazzled and exhausted looking parents were trying to manage three very unruly kids at their Sunday brunch turned Korean-style dim sum (there was likely some other word more politically correct word for that) that clearly wasn't going anywhere near as planned.

"Ah …" Jay allowed. He really couldn't argue with that display.

"You never cook when we're at your apartment," he said. "We always get takeout."

Jay shrugged and popped some more food in his mouth. "You like takeout," he said.

Ethan squinted at him. "So you don't cook for Erin?"

"Sure, I've cooked for Erin," he said and tried to think about if he ever had cooked for Erin. He suspected the answer was no. Did cereal count? Toast? She always bitched about him only having almond milk. He suspected she wouldn't like anything he cooked for her. He'd seen the way she ate. It was impressive she could eat that way and have that body. Maybe it was a paleo diet. She was pretty much a carnivore. Jay got the sense most of the Voights were. Though, Ethan seemed to have an affinity for salad. To the point that Voight wouldn't put salad out on the table in a communal bowl because than all Ethan would serve himself would be salad.

"Like what?" Ethan asked.

Jay shrugged and looked at him. "Ethan, I don't know. Food. Eggs."

The kid squinted at him again. "Erin doesn't like eggs."

"We eat together all the time," Jay stressed.

"But you don't know how to cook?"

"I know how to cook," Jay said. "I'm a man in my thirties. I've managed to feed myself for a long, long time."

"Didn't the army feed you? Like in a mess hall?"

Jay snorted and shook his head. "It doesn't entirely work that way."

"Did you ever have to peel potatoes? Like in the movies?"

Jay let a smile tug at the corners of his mouth and shook his head. "No," he allowed flatly.

Ethan examined him and then plopped another piece of beef – that he likely again was going to cook too long and than refuse to eat – on the grill. "I bet they make Justin peel potatoes."

"Maybe …" Jay allowed, though he didn't quite believe it.

But it was a pretty funny image to think about it. The fucking asshole deserved it. Not that that would teach him anything. He'd had a lot of other chances to learn something about something and hadn't. Jay doubted that KP would be the thing that knocked sense into him.

"Eth, you're OK with me and Erin being engaged, right?" he pressed gently.

The kid stared at him but then shrugged. "Dad says that we like you and we trust you so it's really none of our business."

"OK …" Jay allowed, a little surprised by that take. But that likely counted for something. "But I kind of thing some of it's your business and I'm asking you how you're feeling about it … so … ?"

Ethan eyed him. "Well, I think you should know how to cook and not just order takeout," he said after he seemed to really struggle to think about it.

"OK …" Jay allowed again. "Valid point—"

Ethan cut him off and sat up more at the table with this complete seriousness washing over his face. "For realz, Jay!" he pressed. "Because Erin cooks real gross. So if you can't cook and she can't cook what will you feed your family? And a man has gotta feed his family!"

The frantic honesty of his statement forced Jay to again try to hide his amusement but he managed to nod. "You've got a point, Eth," he agreed. And he did. "Me and Erin should spend a bit more time learning how to cook multi-course meals."

"And less time Netflixing," Ethan muttered.

Jay gave a shrug to that. "OK," he conceded. "Maybe a little less time Netflixing." He wasn't sure if he was agreeing to them spending less time watching his documentaries of choice or less time having sex. Though he took some issue to decreasing the amount of sex on their menu at the moment, he'd also admit they'd been spending a whole lot of time in the sack lately. They could likely chill a bit.

Ethan allowed a little nod and stared at his plate, picking up the tongs and suddenly acting super interested in his charring meat again.

"You just haven't seemed all that happy for us, Eth," Jay pressed again. "And I know Justin said some stuff that might've … confused things for ya."

Ethan shrugged. "Me and Dad talked. He said you aren't fuck buddies too and said I'd be in trouble if I use that word again about it."

"Ah …" Jay said a little pissed. He thought he'd been pretty clear with Voight that him and Erin wanted to get first crack at talking to Eth about this. But apparently he hadn't given a shit. "You still don't sound too happy for us, though."

Ethan glanced at him and gave a shrug. "Why should I be happy about it? It's not like it's me getting married."

"What about being happy for your sister?" Jay suggested.

Ethan eyed him. "She doesn't seem any different so why should I act different?"

Jay considered that and shrugged. "I don't know," he allowed. "Maybe because people getting married is supposed to be kind of exciting?"

Ethan shook his head. "It's not exciting," he said.

"Why not?" Jay asked.

Ethan let out a little sigh and eyed him. "Well, first, she's probably gonna want to spend time with you all the time now."

"We kinda spent time together before getting engaged," Jay reminded him.

"Yea," Ethan said. "But now Erin skipped Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve!"

"Eth," Jay pressed at him with firm eyes, "you saw her both those days."

"But she went out with you."

Jay sighed and looked at him and then gestured for him to keep going. "OK, what else?"

"Well, then she's gonna like hanging out with you more than she likes hanging out with me," Ethan said.

"I'm pretty sure Erin likes hanging out with the both of us," Jay said.

"But I don't always want to hang out with you AND HER," Ethan pushed back at him. "I like just hanging out with her."

Jay sat back in his chair and crossed his arms lightly over his chest. "OK," he allowed. "I hear ya. To be honest, bud. I like having one-on-one time with just Erin too where you aren't around."

"So you can Netflix," Ethan said with some disgust again.

So Jay shook his head. "Nah," he said. "We likely don't do that nearly as much as you think. We go hang out at Molly's a lot. Or go get a bite to eat. Play pool."

"You play pool?" Ethan perked up.

Jay shrugged. "Yea."

"But you also Netflix," Ethan said flatly with his sudden interest in pool fading.

"Yea," Jay allowed again. "But a lot of the time when we Netflix – we really just watch Netflix, Eth. We're pretty boring. And, you know, work's pretty tiring. Sometimes by the time we get home, we just want to decompress. Chill."

"Netflix and chill."

"Literally, Netflix and chill," Jay put back to him firmly. "What's your dad do when he gets home?"

Ethan shrugged. "Help me with homework," he said.

"Yea," Jay nodded. "What else?"

Ethan thought about it. "Laundry and dishes."

"Yea," Jay nodded. "What else?"

"I don't know. Watch hockey and read and stuff."

Jay nodded. "Eth, that's what a lot of mine and Erin's alone time looks like too. Pretty normal, boring stuff."

Ethan gazed at him carefully. "J only married Olive because he got her pregnant," he said quietly.

Jay let out a slow breath. "Yea," he acknowledged. "That seemed to play a role in their nuptials but that's not part of ours."

"But you didn't even date," Ethan protested.

Jay gave a thin smile at that and looked down for a moment before shrugging and finding the kid's eyes. "Yea, I guess, it might not really seem like we dated. But, you know, dating doesn't have to look like the Disney Channel." Ethan squinted at him. "You remember that me and Erin talked to you back in September about us being a couple, right?"

"Yea …" Ethan allowed.

"So we'd been together a while," Jay provided.

"Like three months!" Ethan contended.

Jay let out a little sigh. "Well, longer than three months, Eth. But it was complicated."

"Because you were fuck buddies even though Dad says we aren't supposed to call you that."

Jay made a small noise and shook his head. "We weren't really fuck buddies either. It's just that we worked together and … your dad has opinions about people having in-house relationships. And … I think we all had stuff going on in our own lives we had work on before we were ready to focus on a relationship."

"But three months is like nothing!" Ethan said.

Jay shrugged. "It's not long, but you've got to remember that me and Erin have known each other a couple years and been really close friends in that period too."

"Justin was friends with Olive in high school," Ethan provided.

"Yea … so I've heard," Jay allowed.

"And then he got out of jail and got her pregnant because he was thinking with his wrong head and then they moved away," Ethan said.

Jay eyed him. "Is it the moving away part of that statement you're worried about?" The kid just shrugged at him. "We aren't going anywhere, Ethan."

"Justin did," he said.

Jay let out a small laugh. "Bud, what's going on in your brother's life is pretty different than what me and Erin got going on in ours."

"Justin is in the army. You were in the army," Ethan said.

"I was in the Rangers," Jay corrected – not that the kid knew or cared about the differences. "And I'm not anymore."

"But you and Erin and Dad all get shot at," Ethan said.

Jay let out a sigh. "Yea, I guess. But – also not likely as much as you think. Most of our job is sitting cars doing surveillance and going and talking to people."

"You use guns," Eth said. "Carry 'em."

"Yea …" Jay acknowledged.

"And getting shot and dying is almost the same as going away. It's worse. Because you don't come back."

He sat still looking at the kid. He was stoic in how he'd presented it and Jay really couldn't figure out how he was supposed to respond. But a rather stark reality hit him that he hadn't really considered before – everyone in the kid's fucking life worked in the line of fire. Had their lives technically in danger at some point in their career. When he'd already lost his mom. And now he lived with knowing his dad, sister and brother all worked in jobs that cared risk too. Now even he was entering this kid's life and was bringing that burden into it too.

"You talk about that kinda stuff with your dad or sister?" he asked carefully.

Ethan shrugged. "They say they're careful."

"They are," Jay said. "And they've got lots of people who've got their backs. Me. Al. Antonio."

"Not J," Ethan said.

Jay let out a little sigh. "No, but you know, your brother isn't deployed right now. And he'll have lots of guys in his unit who have his back too. It's just the way it works."

"What if they don't like him?"

Jay gave him a thin smile at that. "There will be people there that like him, Eth. He'll have people he's tight with."

Ethan just examined the table for a long time. "I don't want you and Erin to move away too," he said quietly.

"We aren't going to," Jay offered. "We both really like Chicago. We grew up here. We work here. It's where we want to be. And, your sister would miss you and your dad too much to move anyways. I'd kinda miss my brother too. Sometimes."

Ethan gave him a shy smile at that and again poked at his leathery meat. "Justin doesn't like me very much now that he has H instead."

"You know, Eth, I don't think that's really what's going on," Jay said. "I mean, I don't have kids, but I think your brother is just really busy with all his army stuff and training – all the duties and responsibilities and regulations that come with all of that. And then he's got a new baby and wife and house on top of all of that? It's a lot. For anyone."

The kid's eyes found him again. "Are you and Erin going to have a baby?"

Jay gave a shrug. "Likely some day. But not right now and not nine months from now."

"Then she'll just want to hang out with him and so will you," Eth said. "Because you'll be busy and love him more."

"Eth," Jay said and leaned forward a bit to find the eyes that had looked away from him. "OK. To start – the baby could be a girl," he teased but the kid just eyed him incredulously. "And, two, your sister isn't going to love a baby more than you. OK? I know it. Just different. You're always going to be her brother and she's always going to want to spend time with you – whether it's just me and her or if we start having kids. You're going to have a place in our family, just like we've got a place in yours. Right?"

Jay sort of hoped that struck the kid. Because it struck him. It'd been weird spending time with Erin's family. Sometimes it frustrated the fuck out of him – because it was spending time with Voight. With his boss. But it'd also grown on him. Eth had grown on him. Even fucking Voight had grown on him. Or at least at-home, family-man Voight had.

But really what had grown on him the most was feeling like he was part of a family again. Even if it was Voight's family. He hadn't fully realized how fucking much he'd missed htat. How much he'd felt like that hadn't existed in his life for so fucking long. How much when he looked back on the times it had existed but it all just felt like a lie now. But how fucking normal Voight's family seemed. Like they were fucked up too. They were about as far from normal as you could get. They were full of history and trauma and fucked up choices and consequences. But they were a unit. You felt togetherness when you were there. History. A real history. A house of stories and caring and people who'd been there and grown there and lived there and still came back there. A little kid still growing up and finding his way there. Maybe he'd do better than the rest of them.

But then all the insight Ethan had put back to him was, "Maybe you should wear plaid more."

Jay gazed at him with some confusion. "What …?"

"Plaid," Ethan said. "Like flannel. So you fit in more. Like have a place."

Jay sat back in his chair and gazed at him in some amused disbelief. "Umm … OK," he allowed. "I guess that's something I could work on too."

Ethan nodded. "You should wear it on Dad's birthday. When we take him for dinner. Because then we'll all be wearing it. And that's what we got him for his birthday. A new shirt."

Jay gave a slow nod, again trying to hide his amusement at the sudden shift in the conversation and the concept of the three fucking Voights sitting in a restaurant in their fucking plaid or flannel shirts and Voight opening a box containing another one. Their family was fucking weird.

"Thought I remember your dad saying you weren't supposed to be getting him a birthday present," Jay put to him instead of commenting on the family's complete lack of fashion sense.

Ethan shrugged. "Well, we'd already bought it and we have to take him out for dinner because Erin can't cook and I'm not so good at making Daddy's favorite foods."

"Ah …" Jay allowed.

"But Dad says that a real present would be for him to go out to his social club and have a drink with his own friends. So Erin is supposed to take care of me that night," Ethan said and then added forcibly, "After dinner."

"Ah …" Jay nodded again.

"But I think a better plan would be if you take me to laser tag that night," Ethan said.

"That so?" Jay smiled, giving his eyes a nearly indiscernible roll.

"Yea," Ethan shrugged.

"OK," Jay allowed. "But I think maybe we should see how you're feeling. That the deal was we'd go when you were feeling a bit better."

Ethan gave him a look that said he didn't care how he was feeling – he was gong to laser tag that night. And he was taking it seriously. "And, Jay," he pressed with a sternness he rarely heard out of the kid. "I don't want to go to some baby laser tag. I wanna go to one of the tactical ones. Like what you and Erin and Dad do. iCombat. Not no Laser Quest."

Jay smiled and shook his head. "You know you're just as fucking bossy as your sister?"

Ethan shrugged. "And you love her."

He snorted. Kid had him on that one. Little fucker. Good thing the both of them had kinda grown on him. A little. Or a lot.


	32. Everything Uniform

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

"… Yea," Hank muttered to the St. Ignatius administrator. "Nice visit."

It was a bit of a lie. He wasn't much sure he'd classify Justin's time home as a "nice visit" – but just tended to be how J's time back in town seemed to go. Seeing his grandson was nice. Having the holidays with his kid was nice. Lots of nice aspects to the five days J and his family were home. So he'd just label it as "nice". Besides, it was small talk. The woman didn't much want to hear anything beyond it was "nice" and Hank didn't much want to disclose more than that.

He hated the fucking small talk aspect of being a single parent at that school now. Pain in the ass. When the other two kids had gone through St. Iggy's, Camille had handled that bullshit. She was good at it. Making nice with the other parents and the staff. Joining the different parent groups to show their support to the school in some way other than showing up at Justin's games or parent-teacher conferences. And, God fucking knew they needed someone who could make nice with the staff and parents. Wasn't like Erin or J had been the ideal students at St. Ignatius. Both had given that school and the staff and teachers a run for their money. Both had lead him sitting in the principal's office arguing the case for his kids to keep going there and then hauling their asses home and handing out more fucking groundings and consequences and punishments than he'd ever fucking thought he'd have to with his kids. Didn't even know why J got his licence considering how often he had his keys taken away from him and his ass planted on the couch more weekends than not in groundings that seemed to span from he was about fourteen right through to him ending up in Statesville. So clearly none of it had made much difference. Took his keys, slapped his wrist, yelled at him, gave him the tough love – and still kept on pulling the same stupid shit. Still got behind the wheel drunk – more than once – and fucked up way more lives than just his in the process.

But that sure wasn't small talk either.

"So hard to imagine Justin as a father now," the glorified sectary had said.

"Mmm …" Hank grunted.

Somehow that statement was rather offensive. Because somehow he suspected from this woman's tone had likely expected his son to be a father back in his teens rather than knocking some girl up in his 20s. Another fucking kid from St. Iggy's. Hank was likely lucky they two of them had managed to show some more sense about protection and contraceptives in their teens than they had in their 20s.

"Justin and Olive should come in the next time they're home," she suggested – like she wanted to be some sort of voyeur. Because Hank knew that J and Olive sure as fuck weren't the kind of alumni St. Iggy's liked parading in front of prospective students.

"Not likely going to be home again for a bit," Hank muttered, gazing at the door Magoo was behind trying on some smaller sizes of the school uniform. Hank figured he was likely about the only fucking parent in the school that week looking to get his kid smaller sizes for the winter term. Kids that age were supposed to be growing – not shrink. Unless it was some fat little fucker. Then good on them. But that wasn't Ethan's scenario at all.

"Oh, I'm sure it must be hard to get his time all booked with the army now," she said. "But you must miss seeing that grandchild of yours. They grow so quickly."

Hank grunted again and made a dismissive gesture from where he was leaning against the counter in front of her desk, trying to act like he had any sort of interest in holding a conversation with her while he waited for his kid. "We do the Skype thing. Take Ethan out every few months to see his nephew."

"Oh, that's nice …" she smiled – again rather insincerely.

He just made a sound to acknowledge her platitude. Truth was that Justin being in the army wouldn't have much to do with when he came home again anyway. Not with how things were left at Christmas. Not with how their talk on New Year's had gone and the Sunday. It was going to take time. J needed to prove himself to Voight again. Not just as a husband and son. As a brother. As an adult member of that family – no matter how far away he lived. He'd been hurting the lot of them for years and there'd never been any apologies about it. Not to him. Not to Ethan and not to his sister. Instead he just kept poking at old wounds and basically adding infections to the new ones that family was trying to deal with. Hank didn't have the time or patience for it anymore.

He'd done his best while J had been growing up to be the father he thought a son needed. To administer the tough love in his teens while the little fucker decided to be a royal pain in his ass. He'd come up with all kinds of excuses for him after his mom was gone. Kept saying that none of it was his fault. He was struggling with the loss. The fundamental change and trauma in their family. Lost mother and, in essence, a lost little brother too. Hank had kept thinking he could fix it. Kept thinking that Statesville or boot camp or being a father was going to change him. Make him see the light. Get him to grow up.

And maybe it had. Or it was. But not enough. Not yet. And he just didn't have the space in his life to deal with it anymore. J was an adult man. A husband. A father. Hank wasn't going to coddle him anymore. Wasn't going to keep on giving him excuses. Wasn't going to tolerate the disarray that his visits seemed to create for his youngest every fucking time he came home.

Still loved his son. He'd still talk to his son. Still wanted to be a part of his daughter-in-law's and grandson's life. But, J just wasn't welcome in the house until he could get his shit together. Until he could learn to respect the situation him, Erin and Ethan were dealing with and he could treat his brother like a sick little kid who needed the support of his older brother – not to be fucking ball-busted by him all the time. So for now – no visits.

And even though Hank was keeping in the back of his head that him and E would take a trip out that way to see J and Olive and the baby – he knew they wouldn't go until Magoo was ready. And, right now, Magoo wasn't even interested in talking to his brother on the phone. Not Olive or H either. So it was going to be a bit before he was booking off a long weekend to make that trip.

But it was what it was. Sometimes you just needed to silence the fucking noise in your life. Focus on what was in front of you. Right now that was E and the job. End of story. J had his own shit in front of him to focus on. So let him and they'd sort it all out with time.

That's what families did. Hopefully J got that much.

"It's so nice when we see Erin in," the woman had offered and gave him a thin smile.

"Mmm …" he grunted again.

Voight knew Erin despised going into St. Ignatius. But she ended up in there regularly. Picking up school work for Ethan in his absence. Sometimes just picking up fucking E. Other times being a fucking participant in the family (something that J still seemed to struggle with so much) and going out to the various shit the school held just to show support for Magoo and the school and the community.

But Iggy's was full of less than pleasant memories for Erin. Hank got that. It'd been a rough go for her. But it'd been what she needed. They needed to get her the fuck away from some of the influences she had going on in her life. Public school wasn't working for her. Bad news was still fucking following her in that situation. Assholes were still showing up and waiting for her at the gates. They couldn't do that at St. Ignatius. That sort of riffraff didn't end up on the grounds in any way that they were able to stay very long before getting escorted away by security or police.

Still, dealing with fucking Richie-riches when you came from Erin's background wasn't easy. And Richie-Riches combined with high school and the age and stage bred a whole new breed of mean girls. Some of the fucking bullshit that had gone on had just been ridiculous. His girl wasn't a crier. But these bitches managed to bring her to tears more than once. Not that she'd cried to him. It'd been Camille. But it still got back to him and broke his heart. And there was only so much he could do about it or how he could tell her to deal with it – because the deal was, she got into it with any of these bitches even once and she was out. So all Hank could tell his girl was to suck it up. Shake it off. Move on. Didn't matter what they said or thought. Her worth as a person wasn't based on their opinion. And they didn't know shit anyways.

But that hadn't seemed to make her high school experience any easier. They'd had to drag her through it kicking and screaming. Dealing with truancies and tardiness because she didn't want to go sit in class with those people after they knew her 'truth'. Fuck that. Where she came from wasn't her truth at all. But try explaining that to a teenaged girl who'd only known Bunny up to that point. Wasn't like she'd done a good job at establishing any sort of worth in the girl.

Hard go, though. Erin was as smart as a fucking whip. But resisted school tooth-and-nail. She didn't see it was a ticket out. She barely saw it as a means to an end. And Bunny and all that chaos had meant she was academically behind even if the fucking public school system had never held her back a grade or three. But she wasn't on the same level academically as the other kids at St. Iggy's. And rather than get mad at that – to fucking show them they could all go shove it – she just shutdown most of the time. So the tutors and the sitting at the table fighting with her about homework and suddenly having to base allowances and chores on test scores and report cards and completing fucking assignments became the standard. And a standard way to get her pretty fucking pissy with him and Camille too.

Erin had had a whole lot of opinions about him deciding to send E to St. Ignatius. She hadn't been keen on the idea. But he thought she understood that Eth was getting more help and attention at Iggy's than he would in some public school. But it did place a fucking flashing target on him. He was different. It wasn't like a fucking prep school of Iggy's caliber – with its kind of tuition fees – ended up with a lot of 'special needs' kids.

The door to the room opened and Eth came out on his crutches – just standing in the doorway like that was enough of a show. Hank gestured for him to come stand in front of him. Ethan sighed at him but did and Voight looked at the pants on him. They still looked fucking big. He reached and grabbed at the waist near his boy's hip. His whole hand easily slipped under the waist band. He shook his head and looked to the secretary.

"Gonna need to go down another size," he said. "Maybe two."

She nodded and spun on her chair, rising and going over to the little display of the various uniform elements, sorting through the piled clothes on the shelf again, looking for another size for his boy.

Hank examined his sullen kid. Ethan hated the uniform. Really fucking hated the uniform. Not that Voight blamed him. Who the fuck looked any good in maroon? Maroon and khaki? You really couldn't get much more hideous than that. But he'd already heard all that bitching and moaning before. Especially with Erin. Erin in a fucking plaid kilt? That she'd fucking roll up until it left nothing to the imagination. That'd been fun. Kids were such a fucking pain the ass.

"Wanna try a size down in the shirt too," Hank rasped at the woman's turned back.

"Dad …" Ethan had huffed.

"Don't have XS in the button-downs right now," the woman said. "Have one in the polo. Short sleeved."

Ethan scrunched his nose at that. It was the maroon color that really just brought out how fucking pale and sickly his kid looked. But at least it might fit.

"You can wear it with a sweater," Hank said to him, like his reaction had been about it being short sleeved. "Why didn't you try on the sweater?"

"Because I don't like the sweaters, Dad!" Ethan glared at him.

Hank just shook his head. "Grab him the pullover and the cardigan in the XS too," he told the woman.

She came back over to the counter and put the pile of clothing there. "Got you the S of the pullover too," she said. "Sometimes it's best to go a size up if they're wearing it over the shirt or turtleneck."

Hank glanced at the display where the clothing was tacked up. "They got turtlenecks now?"

"I HATE TURTLENECKS!" Ethan protested.

Hank didn't even look at him and just muttered, "You're always cold."

"They're allowed to wear solid white turtle necks under the sweaters," the woman allowed. "You can just pick them up wherever you want."

Hank nodded and handed the pile to his son. "Go try that stuff on," he ordered. "And I want to see one of those sweaters on when you come out next time."

Ethan let out a dramatic huff but tucked the pile under his arm and maneuvered back to the in-school suspension room that he'd been allowed to use as a change station.

Hank gazed at the display a bit more and pointed. "The kids allowed to wear the fleeces in class now?" he asked of the zippered sweats tacked up there.

The woman craned her neck and looked and then stood, she placed her hand on the one that was clearly a hoodie. "That's spirit days and events on the athletic field. The other two can be worn in school," she said, "but only the half-zip is allowed in the classroom and just seasonally."

Hank nodded. "They in season?"

She bent to look on the shelf at the sizes. "They are," she said. "Usually allowed to have them on until around Easter break unless this winter decides to stick around a longer."

"Thanks," Hank grunted as she put the fleece there.

He looked at the door and was about to go hand the item through the door to his son when Father Caruso walked through the space, headed for his office. He gave Hank a glance and slowed his gait.

"Hi, Hank," he greeted with a way more genuine – though thin – smile. "You got Ethan in?"

"Yea," he grunted and directed his head at the suspension room. "Just picking up some new uniform pieces for him."

"Oh … good," Caruso nodded. "So we'll be seeing him on Monday?"

"Yea," Hank allowed. "Getting him all set. Just about got him caught up on the work his teachers sent home."

Caruso gave him a thin – though somewhat sad – smile at that. "Oh, don't worry if he can't get through all of it," he said.

"We're all just so glad to hear he's out of the hospital and going to be back with us," the woman behind the desk overcompensated again.

Hank cast her a look but then shifted his eyes back to the Father. "Padre, you got a second? In your office?"

The priest just nodded and held out his arm to direct him that way. He closed the door as he entered and walked around his desk, putting a pile of papers on it while Hank stood in front of it. He gestured for Voight to take a seat but he wasn't going to until he did.

"Hank, you really don't have to worry about him getting through everything that got sent home," Caruso said, shuffling through a pile of papers and glancing at the flashing light on his phone before pulling his chair out and sitting, and then again gesturing for Voight to do the same. "Like I told Erin when she came in to pick up the package, that last week is so packed with special events and the concert and the open house and our spiritual life and community work, academically, Ethan didn't miss much. So it really just becomes those three days he missed and we'll work on getting him caught up when he's back in the classroom. All his teachers understand the situation."

Hank just grunted and rounded the chairs, letting himself sit, though he tended to do better in an office that wasn't his own when he was standing. Let him command the space and the conversation more. But he knew he needed to go at this a bit more with kit gloves than he usually liked to in most things.

"Not about that," Hank said.

Caruso looked at him, measuring him. "Then what's it about?" he asked speculatively.

Hank crossed his legs. "Ethan says the school's got a robotics club. He wants to join up."

Caruso sat back in his chair eyeing him. "Hank …" he sighed.

Voight held up his hand. "Mike, it's the first time since this whole M.S. noise that he's expressed interest in doing anything."

Caruso let out a heavier sigh and rocked in his chair. "Hank … there's a lot of factors at play here."

"He said there's tryouts," Hank put to him. "So you just tell me what he needs to bring in there and I'll make sure he shows up ready to go. The school don't got to do a thing."

"It's more complicated than that," Mike said. "It's a very exclusive team."

"He's IEP," Hank argued. "You can't measure his grades against the standard grading system."

Mike sighed and rubbed at his temple like a headache –more likely a migraine was coming on. "It's not just about the grades, Hank. It's the team's sophomore year. It was our rookie year last year and our kids got to Nationals. A lot of those kids came back this year."

"So you telling me there ain't a single slot open to get some fresh blood on this team?" Hank pressed.

Mike gazed at the ceiling. "There are very high expectations among the kids – and the parents – about how far this year's team is going to go. They at least want a slot at Nationals. We won a grant from NASA for the year."

"So you're saying it's a money thing," Hank grunted.

Mike looked at him. "It's not a money thing, Hank. But, yes, operating this program is very expensive. The farther the team gets in the competition process – the more expensive it gets."

Hank shrugged. "So tell me where to send the check."

"Hank …" Mike sighed again.

Hank leaned forward and put his hands on the desk, getting into his personal space. "How long have we known each other, Mike? How long have our families known each other?"

The Father looked off into the corner. "A long time," he muttered but then moved his eyes back to Voight. "And that's why I have bent over backwards to accommodate you, Hank. I knew what you and Camille were doing for Erin. I understood what your family was going through and I made sure that Justin graduated – on time. And, I feel for you with all you're dealing with with Ethan. I've made sure all three of your kids have been able to come here – on bursary – because I know you. I know what kind of person you are, and who your parents were, and who your kids are. But –"

"But what's the point of him being here if he's not allowed to participate in anything?" Hank interrupted. "Thought St. Ignatius is supposed to be all about community leadership and outreach. Inclusion."

"Hank, I am going above and beyond to accommodate Ethan in his academic and spiritual life," Caruso said.

"What about his community and social life there, Father?" he put back to him.

Mike flared his nostrils and shook his head. "Hank, a lot of the kids on the time are our high school students. They are working toward university scholarships. For some of them, a high ranking of this team is the key to getting into their school of choice."

Hank shrugged. "That sounds like just about any other team I've heard of. And, teams still need to be recruiting the younger kids to bring up."

"Hank—"

Hank batted his hands on the desk again. "He knows about teams, Mike," he said. "All those years playing ball—"

"So take him to play ball, Hank," Mike pressed at him with a touch of anger. "We've got one of the best wheelchair softball leagues in the nation. It's the Cubs. He's already a patient at RIC. This is a no brainer."

"He don't want to play ball right now," Hank said. "He wants to do this."

Mike looked off into the corner again. Hank could feel him seething. Pissed that he was putting him in this position again.

"He's a team player, Mike," Hank offered more evenly. "And he's not expecting to be on the starting line-up. Let him ride the bench for the season. I don't care. Just let him get in there and learn some of this shit. Interact with some of the kids."

"Ethan needs so much extra help …" Mike muttered, shaking his head and not looking at him.

Voight let out a sigh and sat back in the chair – eyeing the guy he'd known on his street growing up since they were both in diapers. Their parents knew each other before that.

"I got people telling me E's got an aptitude for this stuff, Mike," he pressed – drilling his eyes into the man with his firmness.

Mike gave him a little frown. "His health, Hank," he said more gently. "It's a huge time commitment. The team meets nearly every day after school."

"Great," Hank said and gestured with his hand.

It was great. Usually he couldn't figure out what the hell to do with his son after school – not since he decided he wasn't going to go over to the boxing gym anymore. And, Voight didn't much like him going home alone. Or bumming around the streets or holed up at Holly's house. Didn't think her parents liked much they'd become a defacto babysitting service either. And Lexi hadn't been an option given her current status with Al. Not that a high school senior wanted to be watching some junior high kid anyway.

But Caruso just eyed him more firmly. "There's full-days – Saturdays. There's the weekend competitions. If they advance beyond the city – there's travel. We expect to at least get to Midwest Regionals - that's in St. Louis."

Hank shrugged. "Good," he said. "Get in some barbecue while we've got the kids out there."

Mike sighed. "Hank, Ethan isn't going to be able to keep up that kind of schedule. We both know that. And I can't endorse placing a child on the team who won't be there when there's other kids who can make a full commitment and a greater contribution to the team."

Hank sat looking at him for a long beat. They looked at each other really. It wasn't a power struggle. It was just a matter of conflicting side. Voight could see Caruso's point. And he knew Mike could see his. Thing was it was his kid. His boy. And, Voight knew he needed to win this battle. He was willing to negotiated whatever he needed to negotiate to get his son onto that team. Get the energies he did have directed somewhere. Doing something.

"I got him this circuitry kit at Christmas," Hank provided more evenly. "You should see the shit he's making, Mikey. Homework – it's a fucking battle with him. I can't get him to focus. There's tears. This kit. He's been puttering with it near constantly since he opened it. He'll sit there hours and make these things. There's some pride and self-worth in those eyes of his that I haven't seen in a long time when he's doing it. When he brings whatever the hell he's created that afternoon over to show me when I get in from work. He needs that. This. I need it. I'm asking you. For me."

Caruso looked at him with these eyes. Ones that said his decision was made. "Hank, I've already done so much for you. But I've got to think of the entire school community."

Hank sighed and shook his head and held up his hand. "We both know it's not me you've done anything for. It's not me you've got Ethan here for. It's Camille. It's always been for Camille. So I'm asking you to do it for her again. Her baby's hurting, Mikey. He's struggling. We all are. We really fucking need this."

Mike let out a noise and gazed at his desk – lost in thought. Maybe lost in too much thought. Long ago times about growing up in the neighborhood. Lots of boys. Only so many girls to go around. Hearts got broken along the way. Life happened. And people went on their own paths dictated more than in part by those childhood experiences. You could only run away from your past – your family – so much. And sometimes it really just made you run to something. Who you were – or weren't – but what you'd somehow become.

"We need another mentor for the club," Mike said under his breath. "Especially if we're going to let … middle schoolers … try out … for the team."

His eyes came up and found Voight's. Hank gave a little nod. "OK," he agreed. "I can work with that."

And he could. Had a pretty good idea about who to send in there for that job. Another person who owed him one – or two or three.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Still going to do the Jay/Ethan chapter. Just a little stuck on what to hit on with their dialogue. Will figure it out eventually.**


	33. Mouse Hole

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

"So I can't say no, can I?" Mouse asked exasperatedly.

Jay just stifled a grin and shrugged at him. "Likely shouldn't," he acknowledged, taking a slow tug of his beer.

"Fuck man," Mouse muttered and took a much more significant tug of his, gazing dazed off into the corner of the basement room he didn't occupy nearly as much as he once did. But it was still definitely a Mouse Hole. Though not quite the shit hole that Jin had kept it as. Mouse's military precision and finicky personality betrayed him in the space. Everything had its place – no matter how dark and dingy it was down there.

Jay slapped at his knee. "Hey, c'mon, it won't be that bad."

Mouse's dazed eyes shifted back to him. "That's easy for you to say," he said like he had marbles in his mouth.

"It won't be that bad," Jay stressed at him again. Sometimes Mouse really needed to be told shit more than once. He was kinda like Eth that way. Positive reinforcement and all that.

"Every Saturday," Mouse spat with some more exasperation. "From now until like May! Me stuck in there. Every Saturday. And now you're going to be scot-free."

"You mean Ethan free," Jay grinned holding the beer near his mouth and trying not to laugh. He knew Eth wasn't on the team yet – but he had to admit when Erin had told him Voight was twisting the school's arm to get his kid into this club and it'd mean that nearly every Saturday Eth would have some kind of practice – it'd definitely had occurred to Jay that that was going to be time he would be getting with Erin rather than having to share Erin with Ethan. Sounded like a pretty damn good deal to him.

"Same fucking thing," Mouse grumbled. "And he said too he'd cut me loose early some days to go into the school from like three-thirty to five-thirty."

"Hey," Jay smiled. "There, even better. Get out of here early."

"To sit in a room with like … weird, nerd … robot teenagers," he said.

"Weren't you a weird, nerd robot teenager?" Jay put to him.

"Ah, no," Mouse twitched. "I was waaay too stoned for that."

Jay snorted his amusement at that and took another swig of his beer that he'd been informed that Voight had bought – so maybe they shouldn't even be drinking it because it was like a bribe … or blood money, Mouse had suggested. Jay had pretty much decided free booze was free booze. But he'd let himself to adjust to having to live with Voight freebies in his life at that point. Truth was nothing came free. That free wasn't free even if he was going to treat it that way.

"I was more of a hacker," Mouse muttered and nursed another gulp from his own bottle.

"You're good, buddy," Jay tired to encourage. "You can still apply that hacker stuff to this robot club stuff."

Sometimes Mouse could be so fucking insecure about his skill sets. But the guy knew his shit. Really knew his shit. And had way more skillz than he thought he did or gave himself credit for.

Mouse had been getting better about all that. Jay had seen his confidence grow. Had seen some instance of fucking over confidence. Bit of a rooster strut at times. But he could still turn on a dime and suddenly need pep talks to get through shit again. To remind him of his worth as a fucking human being and as a member of the team. He'd proven it enough times now. He needed to start believing in it and taking ownership in it more.

"Yea, I don't really get the impression that that my title is gonna be robot club guy," Mouse said. "Pretty sure this is like Ethan's babysitter or something."

Jay cocked his head at that and gave him a little shrug. "Yea, pretty much," he agreed. "But maybe try to look at it more like a tutor."

Mouse let out a long sigh and sucked back some more of his beer. "How fucking mean of me is it to hope he doesn't make the cut to get on this team or whatever it is?"

Jay gave him sterner eyes. "Pretty fucking mean," he pressed at him. "And, c'mon, it was you who basically got him on this stuff. Who fucking told Voight that the kid had something."

"Yea, but it don't mean I want to spend my Saturdays hanging out with the kid," Mouse said.

"He's not so bad to hang out with," Jay said.

"Says the guy getting into his sister's pants," Mouse mumbled. But Jay just giving him warning eyes – so fucking don't go there. And, he got all squirrelly and looked away, fiddling with a bottle cap. "He's just so weird," he said under his breath.

"Mouse, you're fucking weird," Jay stressed at him.

Mouse gave him a glance. "I wasn't Ethan weird at twelve."

"Maybe if you'd had your brain spread across the pavement when you were seven you'd be that fucking weird at twelve," Jay told him sternly.

Jay was pretty fucking furiously protective of Eth anymore when it came to shit about his brain injury or his disability. He'd seen some of the shit the poor kid had had to go through in just the past six months of settling back into life in the city and as a fucking middle schooler at a private school that would get him feed into what should be an elite high school program. Only the kid wasn't going to be so elite. Things that had made the kid elite – his baseball skills – had pretty much been striped from him at the moment. And with all the medical bullshit that was going on around him right now with the flare-ups of his symptoms, he was pretty much a walking mark. He was a target.

Moue of all people should fucking get what Ethan was going through. Should sympathize on some level. He shouldn't be one of the ones giving the poor kid shit about it. The kid got enough shit. The kid had a whole lifetime of shit ahead of him. He didn't need the adults around him – that he trusted – throwing more in his way.

"Eth really likes you, Mouse," Jay told him more evenly. "He says you talk to him about some of this shit. He looks up to you."

Mouse sighed again and spun the bottle cap around and around his knuckles. It reached the end and he flipped over with his thumb to run it down them again and again. Like a fucking waterfall.

The guy made it look effortless. He managed the dexterity for that meanwhile there were so many other times where Jay saw that tremor in his friend's hand that made it a hassle for the poor guy to so much as hold a pen. Though, he could usually hide that behind a computer keyboard anymore.

"Look," Jay sighed as he watched him. "I didn't have all Ethan's issues but I was pretty fucking weird at his age. No friends either. And dealing with the whole fucking private school scene. And it sucked. It really fucking sucked. So if this can help the kid feel more normal or like he fits in, he really fucking needs that, Mouse. You can understand that. Of all people …"

"Yeah …" Mouse allowed reluctantly and then shook his head to look at him. "He's a nice kid," he offered apologetically. "I like him and all. I don't mind him hanging out down here. But every Saturday?"

Jay shrugged and took another sip. "Maybe you'll meet some hot teacher," he teased, raising an eyebrow.

Mouse made an annoyed sound and looked away. "Fuck off."

"What?" Jay pressed back at him and leaned forward in his chair a bit to get into the guy's space. "C'mon, Mouse. You're doing real good these days. You should put yourself out there a little bit. Come to Molly's. There's people there you know. Who know you. Sylvie …" he suggested, giving his shoulder a little shake.

Mouse gave him a sad look. "You mean more of your sloppy seconds?"

Jay sighed and sat back in his chair, legs wide as he looked at him, the bottle hanging between his knees. "Nothing happened between us."

"She liked you," Mouse said.

"We had a moment," Jay said. "Barely."

"You flirted with her," he mono-toned dejectedly.

Jay shrugged. "I've flirted with a lot of women, Mouse."

Mouse just shook his head. "She dated Roman," he muttered.

"They aren't together anymore. Summer thing," he said. "Hardly. Basically they hooked up. From what I hear."

Mouse just made a noise.

"C'mon," Jay pressed. "You've been crushing on her. I see her at Molly's all the time. You should come have a drink with us."

But Mouse just shook his head even more firmly and went back to gazing intently at his bottle cap, moving it around even more restlessly.

"OK," Jay said and gestured at him. "No Molly's. More reason to check out the sexy teacher scene. Get away from whole too-close-for-comfort thing we've all got going on here."

"Stop it," Mouse said quietly.

"Mouse, I'm serious," Jay sighed at him. "I'm worried about ya. I see how good you're doing on the work side of things. But you're still in a hole with everything else. You've got no—"

"I've got my sister. My nephews," he hissed.

"I know, bud," Jay said a bit more gently. "But you've got friends here and you never come out with us. I know you aren't hanging out with your old crew, because if you were you wouldn't still be working for Voight. So that means when you aren't out at Emily's or holed up here, you're locked up at your place."

Mouse shrugged. "So? You know how that is."

"Yea," Jay put back to him firmly. "I know how it is. And it's not how I like you living your life, Greg. This gig is supposed to be—"

Mouse's eyes finally found his but they were dancing with some anger while the rest of him twitched with the same agitation that didn't know how to express itself.

"Look, I'm not you, man," he spat at him. "I'm not the hot, flirty Ranger turned cop who can just manage the smooth talk and attract the girls without even trying. I'm the fucking twitchy, weirdo medical discharge the girls go running the other way from when they see me down the street and think I might've even looked at them. I'm the creepy guy. OK, Jay?"

Jay sat staring at him. For a long time. Watching the way he was shaking with how he said it and then how he spun away and even more agitatedly flipped that bottle cap around and around his knuckles again.

"Mouse, that's not how anyone around here sees you anymore," Jay said. "It's not even how most people out there in the world see ya. You've really cleaned up. Everyone can see how much more stable you are. How good you're doing."

Mouse shot him a look. "They all still give me shit," he said.

"That's just cops, man. Just like the Rangers."

"OK," he hissed. "Then I see the way Erin looks at me. It's not like the rest of you guys. And it's the way all women look at me. Like I'm that creepy guy they've gotta stay away from."

Jay sighed and slumped farther back in his chair. "Mouse, I don't think that's what Erin's thinking when she gives you that look. She likely doesn't even realize she's doing it."

"Oh, yeah," Mouse pushed at him. "Then what's your girlfriend thinking?"

Jay gazed at his anger for a long moment. "She's seeing Eth, Mouse," he said flatly. "And sometimes I think that's a little hard for her."

"Well, boo-hoo for her," Mouse said with some anger still teetering in his voice.

Jay glared at him a bit. "Yeah, Mouse," he pressed back at him. "You think was easy for your sister seeing you all broken when you came home? Watching you have to find your way? And you're a grown man. Erin's been having to do it with her little brother since he was fucking seven years old. And don't even pretend you don't have an inkling of what Ethan might be going through or what she's going through. Because I know you've dealt with that shit and you see it painted all over Emily's face too. And I know it fucking kills you how much Em worries about you. That you hate you do that to her. But she keeps bending over backwards to try to help you out too."

Mouse looked away from him and swiped the bottle cap harshly around the countertop again. "I like going out to Emily's place on the weekends," he said quietly. "Hanging out with the kids."

Jay shrugged. "OK, tell Voight that. He'll respect that. He's big on family and being there for your family."

Mouse made a little sound and gave him a sad look like he didn't feel like that was going to make much difference.

Jay sighed. "Look, I'm sure the every Saturday thing is grossly exaggerated. And, even if it sucks, go out to Em's after the club meetings. Or talk to her about having the kids over. You're doing awesome. They'd love to have some sleepovers at your place, man. Maybe you can even take them into the robot thing a few weekends."

Mouse grunted some recognition of that suggestion but still didn't seem too thrilled about it.

Jay drummed his fingers against his empty bottle. He was definitely going to need another. "Hey," he called and Mouse gave him a little glance, "I don't want you to take this as you being some sort of charity case or something, but I know that Erin and Voight getting a chance to work with you has helped them both feel a lot better about Ethan's future."

Mouse gave him a thin smile and shook his head. "Yeah me …" he muttered.

"Voight's real grateful about this circuitry and robotics thing," Jay tried again. "And Eth is just … all about it. He seems really into it. Excited."

Mouse nodded and gave a little shrug.

"So it's really cool you brought that shit into their lives, Mouse," Jay pressed.

"Yeah … OK …" Mouse allowed and finally sat up straighter again to take another swig of his remaining beer, staring at the camera monitors in the room.

Jay sighed and looked at him. For as far as Mouse had seemed to come – sometimes it still felt like he still had a real long way to go. But he supposed that was true for everyone. In their own ways. He just wished he could figure out some way to make it a bit easier for the guy.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Another chapter is being posted shortly tonight. It has Hank/Erin. Your reviews and feedback are appreciated.**


	34. Homework

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Voight didn't even look when he heard Erin's footsteps creaking back down the stairs. Didn't look when she came into the front room. And he did his best to ignore her when she came and invaded his space – sitting at the end of the couch, partially obstructing his view of the game. But he still pretended he didn't notice. Just kept staring at the hockey on the screen.

"Hank …" she finally sighed at him with a touch of annoyance.

"Mmm …?" he grunted and shifted his head a bit to try to see around her. "He sleeping?"

"Yeah, Hank. He's sleeping," she said with some more annoyance.

He just nodded. "Good," he allowed flatly.

"Hank, it's barely eight-thirty," she pressed at him.

"Mmm …," he grunted and shifted a bit more on the couch, reaching for the remote and turning up the volume a touch. "He's pretty tired."

"He's exhausted," Erin pressed at him.

Voight just shrugged and pointed the remote to turn up the volume another couple bars – hoping she'd take the hint. He was pretty fucking exhausted too. He was in for the night. Didn't have anything he felt the overwhelming need to be digging into. And his kid was passed out. Plan was to watch the game and to hit the hay early himself – assuming this didn't go into overtime.

She glanced behind herself at the screen and then looked back to him. Not that his eyes moved to her. "Can you turn that off?" she put to him.

Voight pressed his tongue into his cheek at that and did move his eyes to her. He glared. Wordlessly expressing his displeasure.

"I want to talk for a minute," she said.

"I'm watching the game," he rasped at her.

Her eyes looked at him just as annoyed as he felt at her. "Can you mute it?"

He elongated his chin and gave her a warning look. But she just stared back at him.

"What are we going to do about Ethan?" she finally put to him.

He gestured annoyed at the stairs. "He's sleeping," Voight pressed. "Hopefully nothing for the next eight hours."

"Hank," she barked at him. "It's eight-thirty. He's fast asleep. He's exhausted. We should talk about that."

Voight let out an exasperated noise at her and reached to mute the game, glaring at her when the room did fill with silence. "It's his first day back," Voight said more evenly. "He's going to be tired."

"He can't function like that," Erin argued. He could see the frustration in her. The concern.

"He's fine," Voight said. "He got through the day."

"Did you do any homework with him tonight?" Erin demanded.

Voight gave her a warning look. "I could see my boy was spent. It was his first day back," he put to her firmly but calmly. "We had some dinner. Looked through his school bag and agenda. Did a bit of reading and then he put himself to bed."

"At eight at night," Erin pushed again. "You don't see a problem with that?"

Voight shook his head. "No, Kiddo, I don't."

"How's he going to keep up like that?"

Voight gave her a look. "He'll go at the pace he can manage."

"So in other words they're going to hold him back?" she demanded.

"No one's said anything about that," he told her and looked at her more firmly. "Erin, you're tired too. December was hell, OK? We're through it. You don't need to be here tonight. Go home."

She just glared at him. "You shouldn't be encouraging him with this robot club thing," she said – completely ignoring his statement.

He ran his tongue around his mouth again. "He wants to be on the robotics team," he provided flatly.

"He can't handle it, Hank," she spat at him, gesturing madly at the stairs. "Look what one day of school did to him."

He glared at her raised arm until she caught on and dropped it. "He's fine," Voight said again. "This is the first major flare-up we've had to deal with since the diagnosis. He just needs some time to ease back into his routine."

"Exactly," Erin argued at him. "Ease back in. Not add after-school classes and weekends. You're going to destroy him."

Voight grunted at her with that suggestion. Some fire dancing in his eyes. Destroying his kid wasn't on his agenda. At all.

"The kid needs something beyond us," he pushed back at her more harshly. "He's supposed to be making friends. Starting to want a social life. To be outta the house. That's the age he's at. This is something he wants. And it's something he fucking needs."

"And what the fuck are we going to do when he comes home like this every night and we have to battle him about homework?" Erin argued. "He makes himself sick again?"

"He's not making himself sick," Voight pressed. "He's sick. What we're fucking doing is figuring out a way for him to have a life within the limits that's presented him."

Erin made a sound of extreme displeasure at him and shook her head, looking away and running her hand through her hair – staring off across the room. Voight eyed her.

"Why are you here?" he put to her.

"I'm always here," she mumbled.

"You don't got no reason to be here tonight," he said. "You knew I was picking him up, managing him tonight with his first day back."

She shrugged. "I wanted to hear how his first day back went," she said.

"Mmm …" Voight grunted. "You sure your not avoiding Halstead?"

Her eyes snapped to him at that. But Voight just settled back into the couch, looking around her again to the game. Point got scored while she'd had him distracted.

"Haven't heard any announcement at District yet," he muttered, watching the puck.

"We're waiting until we get the ring back from being resized," she hissed at him.

Voight grunted. "You taken it in to get that done yet?" he asked and shifted his eyes to her. He could see her seething but there was some awkward embarrassment there too. "What's the hold up?" he asked when the answer to his question was more than obvious. But she just made a sound and shook her head. "Don't string that boy along, Erin," he said firmly. "He doesn't deserve that. Neither do you."

She sighed at him. "We just haven't talked about all the details yet."

"Could be doing that tonight," he muttered, shifting his eyes back to the screen. "Let me watch the game in peace."

She snorted some annoyed amusement at him and shifted her eyes to the screen to watch the game for a few minutes in silence too. "You decided what you're going to do when we go public?" she asked without looking at him.

Voight shrugged, settling his hands more across his chest. "Likely have you ride with Antonio for a while."

She glanced at him. "What about Jay?"

"Ruzek," he said flatly.

Erin groaned but shifted her eyes to the TV without arguing about it. Voight figured Halstead could show Ruzek a few things from a different perspective than he'd gotten from O. And Ruzek and Atwater were a bit too buddy-buddy and green for Voight's liking. Got the job done but were more bull in the china shop than in preferred a lot of the time. Antonio would be good for Erin too. Both of them were meticulous hard-asses. He'd see how they worked out together. Mix it up again if he needed to. Send Erin out with O a bit. Jay likely too. Would probably have to pair her up with Ruzek some for the young couple U.C. work. She wouldn't like that. But it was what it was.

"What about long-term?" Erin asked more softly.

"How about I see that ring on your finger again – outside of this house – and I'll start thinking about long-term," Voight said flatly.

He still hadn't figured out what long-term was going to look like. But he'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought some about it. Knew that both of them wanted to advance in Intelligence That both of them thought they had a career to make there. That just wasn't going to be the case after their nuptials.

Truth was he wanted to have a man-to-man with Halstead about it. Hear him out on what he was thinking. Because Voight's thoughts were that Halstead had done work in other units. Had proven himself elsewhere. Had connections elsewhere to give him a leg up. Get him in. Guide him along. So he knew the good, the bad, and the ugly of the police out there and the politics that went along with it. Erin hadn't had that. He'd twisted arms to get her shield and then pulled her right out of patrol and into his unit. He knew she was good for it – but she didn't have the documented history in her jacket to back her up. If anything, she was known was "Voight's girl". He knew. They both knew. Her work in Intelligence had spoken for itself. She'd more than proven herself. She'd gotten noticed. But she'd also had other opportunities and ended up right back in his bullpen. Pretty much re-affirming she was under his thumb in a lot of people's opinions up in the Ivory Tower. Moving Erin around CPD wasn't going to be as cut and dry as shifting Halstead around.

Voight hoped they were both bright enough to know that. To accept it. To see what had to happen eventually. But he didn't get the impression they'd much talked about it yet. And he wasn't sure he wanted to have his talk with Halstead until him and Erin had had more than a few real conversations about their future. So he was trying to be patient. Give them some time. He was a pretty patient man. At least he could be in the right circumstances. But it only ever lasted so long.

"I think Jay wants to keep things really small," Erin said after another silence of them watching the muted game. "For the wedding."

"Mmm …" Voight allowed. Listening and not. Or rather listening and giving her space. That was usually the best course of action with any conversation with any of his kids.

"You're OK with that?" Erin asked and gave him a glance.

Voight shrugged. "Not my wedding." Erin just made a sound and looked back to the screen. "You got some sort of posse you were planning on inviting that I don't know about?"

"No," she said carefully and gave him another look. "But just … really small, Hank," she clarified again. "Like civil ceremony small. Us. You and Ethan. His brother. Dinner after?"

Hank watched her – reading her body language carefully. "That not what you want, you need to tell him."

Erin sighed. "I don't know what I want," she said but then cast him a sad smile. "I didn't have any kind of little girl delusions that I was going to get married or what my wedding was going to look like."

Voight allowed her a thin smile – but there was his own sadness behind it. Bunny had royally fucked her up about relationships and married. The parade of men in and out of that girl's life. Bunny went through husbands more frequently than she took out the garbage. Hank and Camille had done their best to correct those wrongs – the misconceptions that Bunny had planted – but they could only heal so many scars. That kind of stuff stuck with you when you were exposed to it so young.

"There's nothing wrong with a small civil ceremony," he offered.

"It feels a little shotgun," she muttered.

"But it's not?" he said – even though there was a question to it. One he didn't think he needed to be asking but she'd opened herself to it.

"No, Hank," she spat at him with daggers.

He held up a hand to calm her down. "So then tell him that," he said. "I think you two need to work some on your communication."

Erin just made a noise at him and looked at the screen again. "We aren't exactly grand romantics."

"Don't have to be," Voight said. "Do need to talk."

Erin just made a sound that acknowledged he'd spoken.

"Get out of here, Erin," he put to her and she glanced at him.

"Really?"

He shrugged. "Don't get my house to myself much anymore."

"You don't exactly have it to yourself …" she tried, gesturing to the ceiling and Ethan's room.

"Erin, go home," he said more sternly. "Or go to Halstead's. But leave me alone with my couch and my game."

She sighed at him – staring at him so long that he was sure she wasn't likely going to listen to him. That about the most he was going to get was her heading upstairs to her room and closing the door. That'd be kind of ridiculous at 8:30 on a weeknight.

She finally rose and crossed her arms, gazing at him again, but satisfied she was at least giving him his couch back, he shifted his eyes back to the game and lifted the remote, finding the button to unmute it.

"You going to need me to come sit with him tomorrow?"

Voight grunted and shook his head. "Got it covered," he said. "Go work on you this week."

She gazed at him again for a long time – just standing there smack dab in his front room. But she finally let out a sigh and went to the front hall, putting her boots back on and retrieving her coat. She still stood there for a long time, juggling her keys in her hand and staring at him and the TV again.

"OK …" she finally said. "So … I guess I'll see you in the morning."

"Yep," Voight allowed.

"OK …" she said reluctantly.

It was so fucking telling how much time that she'd been spending at the house lately. What a fucking mess December had been. She seemed to think they might fall apart if she left. But they wouldn't.

Now more than ever she needed to be spending some time working on herself again. Focusing on herself. Her future. Working some shit out. She couldn't be doing that stuck in there hovering over Ethan. Smothering them both with her feminine instincts that she thought she had all hidden. His girl was more of a girlie girl than she wanted anyone to know. And his girlie girl needed to be talking to her man and figuring out what her future family looked like and getting some starting details of a wedding in place. None of that was going to happen if she was over there fussing over him and Ethan.

He could feel her staring at him but he purposely didn't look. She finally moved for the door, pulling it open.

"Hey, Kiddo," he called at the last second and he felt her poke her head back into the entranceway. He looked over and gave her a thin smile. "Love you."

She returned the smile. "You too, Hank," she allowed and held up her hand in a small wave. "Night."

 **AUTHOR NOTE: A chapter was posted before this with Jay/Mouse. Your reviews and feedback are appreciated.**


	35. Try Outs

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Voight stepped out of his office as Trudy got Magoo to the top of the stairs, reaching to flip the case board out of his sight. Not that the kid hadn't seen one before. Thing was his kid just didn't need to be seeing this one. He really hadn't needed to see any of them. Just sometimes he'd been a little lax about getting things out of sight in a timely manner. Or maybe it was more he was grooming E a bit – slowly. Getting him used to the way things were in a bullpen. Because maybe some day he'd be in one of his own. Contributing to cases – and the city, and the CPD – in his own way. If that was still what he wanted. Sure seemed a whole lot better than other available options, which sometimes seemed like it would be his kid in a Walmart vest stocking shelves or a visor asking if some dunce wanted fries with that.

The way his kid was looking at him in that moment, though, Voight got the impression that Magoo sure felt like his future didn't include anything too bright. Trudy was frowning at him too. She'd clearly sensed E's hurt when he'd gotten in the door. He'd heard as much in her voice when she'd called up to let him know that E was there.

Magoo wasn't supposed to be there. Voight had told him to make his way home on his own. It was good practice for him. Showed some trust in the kid to navigate the buses. Deal with a bit of walking and standing with his crutches in the winter. None of this coddling of the parents who hardly let their kids walk down the block – let alone to school or get on the bus or L. Got a little fucking ridiculous sometimes. Liked his kids to be independent. Him and Erin picked him up at school enough. Didn't need to be happening every day. E needed to learn to trust in his own abilities to fend for himself. To get home – or wherever the fuck he was supposed to be that afternoon. To stay out of shit for a few hours. Start his homework. Do some dinner perp. Or just have the house to himself without fucking destroying it. Trust and responsibility. Kids needed that. Especially at that age. And especially with Magoo when so much of his illness caused them to coddle him and baby him a bit more than Voight would like. But it's hard not to when your kid is hurting and struggling like that. Life's a fucking struggle, though.

Voight gave a little nod at Platt and gestured for his boy to get his ass over there – and E sullenly did. His crutches clicking in a way that garnered glances from the guys in the bullpen. Magoo purposely avoided eye contact with all of them – no greetings for Dawson or O, who'd he usually engage in some brief exchange with. None of this nonsense fucking bru talk that fell out of Ruzek's and Atwater's mouths that made Voight question the kind of education that either of them had ever got. The two of them – men in boys bodies still trying to fucking hard to play with the big boys. Good police. Worth the effort. But still a whole fucking lot of work and growing up to do.

Biggest give away, though, was that E completely shrunk from Mouse and Halstead. Might as well as have crawled into himself he tried so hard to get them not to look at him.

Voight just put his hand on his kid's shoulder as he got over there and guided him into his office, closing the door halfway and leaning against the front of his desk, eyeing him.

Magoo had that completely defeated body language. His son was tired. And he was clearly disappointment. He was avoiding eye contact but Voight didn't need it to sense the tears that were welling in his kid' eyes. But E was doing his best to be a man about all this.

"So what happened?" Voight put to him, crossing his arms.

Ethan scuffed one of his crutches against his toe, looking at the maneuver like it was fascinating. "It went real bad," E muttered under his breath.

"What went wrong?"

E's shoulders rose and fell with defeat. "Everything," he whispered.

Voight shook his head at him. "Don't give me that," he rasped at him. "What do you think went so bad at the tryouts?"

E let out a little sigh and looked up at him with those sad eyes. Those fucking heart-breaker eyes. "There was reading, Dad," he said. "And math."

Voight shrugged. "OK. They have someone help you with that?"

"Yes …" Magoo said quietly.

Voight gestured at him. "Then what's the problem? You knew this team's going to involve that. That's real life, Ethan. You've got to learn to speak up when you need the help and to fucking accept the help."

E just eyed him. "We had to build a 'moving object'," he said.

Voight shrugged again. "OK. You know how to do that. You're driving me and the mutt crazy with the thing you've got at home."

"It was with Lego, Dad!" Ethan protested. "And without wheels or motors! And my hand's shaking bad today!" he added and pulled his one hand off the crutch to out it out to prove it.

Voight hated looking at that tremor in his kid. When he saw it, he just wanted to grab him and hold him until the fucking thing stopped. Thing was it didn't usually stop. It'd calm. But the moments of it being gone seemed less and less – even with the medication. It had seemed like it'd been more under control in the week before he was back at school – but now with his son tired and rundown a bit from managing to get back into the swing of things – it was creeping out in a more visibly way.

"It's a robot club, E," Voight provided evenly, though. "You're going to have to build things. And you're going to need to learn a way to manage that with your tremor."

Ethan huffed at him and gazed at his feet again. "We had to explain things too. Like what we built and how it worked and get them to build it without seeing it by explaining it. So like talking and working in teams and partners. And planning missions and problem solving. … No one wanted to work with me."

"So the coach paired you up with a group, right?" Voight put to him.

"Yea …" Ethan shrugged.

"OK," Voight sighed and looked at him. "Well, you remember when they recruited you onto junior varsity? Some of the guys didn't want to practice with you at the start either, right?"

"But the club's for Grade Seven to Twelve, Dad," Ethan near whimpered at him. "The poster said so. I'm allowed to be there this time!"

Voight watched his boy. Yeah. He was allowed to be there. But he'd pulled strings to get his boy the chance to be there. He'd been left with the expectation that it was going to mean that his kid would get a little more consideration than just showing up at the tryouts. But maybe not. Maybe he wasn't as ready for this as he'd been lead to believe. Maybe Caruso was just doing him lip service to get him the hell out of his office. Still, he so fucking hated seeing disappointment on his kid's face. Life was so fucking full of disappointment. Magoo knew that. He didn't needed to be taught that again. And again, and again.

"You got to remember, Magoo, that this is a competitive team. Not everyone who tries out gets on the team. But you went out there, you tried your best and you'll just have to wait and see what the rooster says when they post it. I'm proud of you for going out."

"I really wanted to be in the club, Dad," E said quietly.

"I know," Hank acknowledged. He wanted that for his kid too. Badly. Enough that he'd actually looked into this whole robotics league thing. The competition dates in their city and region. The rules. The kind of equipment – and the cost of it – that Magoo might need. Started processing the learning supports his boy might need in it all. Furlough he might need to book to make sure he was available on competition weekends for his boy. He'd fucking intended to support his boy in this. Give him the opportunity to try it. To see if it was his thing. To develop these skills. To try to get his son back on some sort of track again. Make it easier – better – for all of them. Reset. "But, you've still got lots of opportunity to try out again. Next year."

Ethan gave him sad, watery eyes but Voight didn't have the opportunity to tell him to man up – to set aside the crocodile tears. His door burst open – Halstead handing off the knob.

"Sarge, we've got to roll," he said with no shortage of urgency. Voight's eyes shifted to see the frenzy going on in the bullpen. His guys were bolting for the exits. "It's Lindsay."

Voight pointed at E, already moving to the door. "Stay here," he barked.

"What's wrong with Erin?" Ethan asked, his eyes widening even more at the chaos in the room behind him.

"Stay here," Voight pressed again and charged out the door after the rest of them.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: A few things …**

 **-I'm at the point where I'm just going to kind of jump around where I like. The chapters will get reordered eventually to make more complete sequences and arcs. But they might seem kind of disconnected when reading. Hopefully it's not that confusing for people who are regular readers.**

 **-FF only seems to send updates and bump a story to the top of the queue if you update in periods of 24 hours or greater. I had been trying to be conscious of that for a while. But it's kind of a pain in the ass. I know a lot of the "guest" readers who aren't registered users just look for it to be bumped to the top of the list. But basically — that's not going to happen as much anymore. Because it's a pain in the ass. I'm just going to update as I update. If I happen to have several chapters ready and feel like posting them all in the same day — they're going to post. You won't see the story bumped to the top. So you might want to either sign up and follow the story or my author listing so you do get alerts — or you might want to just start checking in on the story regularly. I can tell from the readership counts that a lot of the "guest" type people don't see chapters when the story doesn't get bumped. Like a third of you.**

 **-My stories in this CPD AU have the best readership of any of my FF stories. Like I regularly get over 5,000 of you reading a chapter and huge numbers on days I update. That's really flattering and I do appreciate so many of you read the stories and clearly enjoy them enough to keep coming back to them. But I do sometimes find it really disheartening to see such awesome readership and get like only one or two … or no … reviews for a chapter. Especially if it's on a chapter I was really, really happy with how it turned out (recent examples being Fireworks and Everything Uniform). Now, I really don't except all of you to be commenting every chapter or anything like that. But, honestly, some positive feedback really does go along way. If there was a chapter you particularly liked or you're just a long time reader, you know, it's much appreciated if you drop a note every once and a while.**


	36. Hero

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **AUTHOR NOTE: This chapter comes immediately after Try Outs. It will be moved to reorder later.**

Jay snuck up on her in the break room where she was trying to get some alone time to recompose herself. It was taking a while. The whole thing had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. Or even think about. The position that she'd been put in. What had nearly happened. The flashbacks that had washed over her in the panic of what she'd gone through in the past. Things she didn't want to think about. Things she refused to think about. That she buried down and pretend didn't happen and maintained they didn't define her – and it was the long ago past. Something she'd been rescued from – removed from – and it had no bearing on her now.

It did, though. It'd dredged it all up. Seeing that fourteen year old girl and knowing what had been done to her – against her will, in the dark of night, in her own bed, in her sleep. She'd seen the change in the girl – where the child you were in your early teens was ripped from you before you were ready. She'd seen the look on her father's face and his helplessness. And she'd seen those things before. In herself. In Hank. Not that Hank had been helpless but there'd still been that look in his eyes when he knew what was going on or later when she allowed herself to get into situation that let it continue when he was already trying to help her – remove her from all that.

She'd seen him cast those looks toward her as they worked the case too. Measuring how she was interacting with it. If she was handling it. If she was OK. If she was level. Or if they were at another banana peel. One neither of them wanted her to be at. One they didn't have time for.

But even pushing aside that – like she always did because she wasn't sure it'd ever be something she'd be fully ready to admit or deal with - there was the fact she'd bought it. She'd missed what was really happening. That woman – who she was, what she was. And she'd let herself end up in that situation. Maybe worse – she'd put Jay in a situation where he'd just blown someone's brains out for her sake.

Erin knew that's what he was trained to do. That he'd done it before. But the unmistakable reality was that he'd just been forced to take a life on her account. And that was likely just the kind of situation that Hank didn't want them to be in. It was why he didn't like in-house relationships. It was why he wasn't going to let them ride together anymore. Why they couldn't be partners anymore.

Because maybe Jay had pulled the trigger a little quickly because it was her who'd had a knife to her throat.

And now it was him who'd had his gun taken away from him when they'd left the house. Him who'd have to fill out the paperwork about the shooting. Him who'd have to prove to IA that it was a good shot. And him who'd have it on his record that his kill count had just gone up. That he'd fired shots. That he'd taken a life. And whether it was a good shot or not – whether he was deemed to have followed policy and procedure or not – it'd be him who'd have it hanging on his record and be something that got brought up (or at least considered) at other stages in his career and as other life-and-death and spur-of-the-moment decisions were made by him.

He'd complicated his jacket, his life, his career – maybe even his morals – for her. He'd killed for her. Or because of her.

"You alright?" he asked, as she still tried to ignore him – even though she knew if he was coming up behind her he was just getting back from the bureaucratic hoops he'd had to go and jump through with the Ivory Tower and Platt downstairs. And that there wasn't much point in coming back – because he undoubtedly would've been told to take the rest of the shift off and likely not show his face again until he'd had his psych check-in, which likely wouldn't happen until at least tomorrow. And Voight would just tell him the same – to play it by the book. As much as he pushed the bounds on some things – as he knew how to find and operate in all the grey areas – this wasn't one of them. It was his team and he didn't like them to be short-handed or to have bureaucratic eyes on them from cops who'd forgotten how to do the job or why they were doing it. So she knew there was only one reason he'd come back there - her.

But it still wasn't enough for her to immediately turn to him. To look at him. She kept on focusing on trying to calm. Like continuing to bob the teabag in the hot drink she didn't even really want was somehow going to make things better in the few more seconds it was buying her.

She finally let herself turn. To look at him. But he had that look on his face. One she hated seeing and one she felt like she got way too much at work. She knew it was because he cared. But it also made her feel weak. Like she couldn't take care of herself. Like she was disappointing him. And like he was always having to bail her out or tell her what to do to get her out of these situations. And she hated that. She really did.

She leaned against the counter and frowned at him. "Yeah," she allowed. Because what more could she really say. She was alive. She barely had a scratch to show for it. But no – she sure as fuck wasn't alright. And they both knew it. Everyone in the unit knew it that afternoon. Hank did too. But she wasn't going to admit that.

She knew he wasn't buying it. Why would he? The emotions that played across his face weren't as well hidden as he might think. At least not to her. And she could see it in his eyes. He was hurting too. He was scared. Tired. There was a pain there. There was a glassiness to them that somehow hurt her more to see – because there really hadn't been any other time she'd seen that in them. And she thought that might scare her a bit too. Make it harder.

He looked down for a moment – like he'd realized she'd noticed the look there. But it was only for a split second before he brought them back up to hers.

"Promise me one thing," he said raspy with the slightest quiver that she didn't miss either. She struggled hearing it. Looking at him. But he corrected his tone, becoming firmer. "Never go in without back-up again."

She sighed and looked away. She knew he meant well but it was patronizing. "Yeah …" she allowed.

"I mean it," he stressed a bit more urgently. "Even to get a parking ticket. It goes for all of us."

She allowed him a small, sad smile and moved closer to him. "I'm already kicking myself," she assured him. He nodded – like he was expecting them to have a talk right there about what he'd had to do, about what it meant. But Erin wasn't ready for that and she pivoted. "It's just … that girl. I don't know … I bought it."

She had to look away as she said it because she saw the change in his face again. The realization that they weren't going to go where he thought. The frown still creasing his face as she brought her eyes back to his – silently asking for his understanding that she wasn't ready to talk about it yet. Not there. Not with everyone else in the next room.

"We all did," he assured her and then allowed her the escape, giving her an apologetic look. "Lecture over. You want to get a beer?"

She let her sad eyes stay on him. "Definitely …" she agreed.

But there was a clicking near the door and she glanced to see Ethan standing unsurely in the doorway giving her a look of trepidation.

"Dad says I'm supposed to tell you both that you aren't supposed to be here," he said. "Like not in here. Like not at District."

Erin gave him a thin smile. "We were just leaving," she assured.

He kept gazing at her. "He said to ask if you can take me home because he got a dinner invite," Ethan provided flatly.

She squinted at him. "A dinner invite?" Ethan just shrugged and Erin sighed and looked at Jay. Some frustration washed across his face too. "There's beer at Hank's …" she provided quietly. He just grunted. There'd be beer in the fridge downstairs but they wouldn't be talking. Not yet. But maybe she liked it better that way. Maybe she didn't want to delve too far into this just yet. "I'll get you home, Ethan," she said turning back to him.

He just kept staring at her and she cocked her eyebrow at him. "Are you alright?" he asked cautiously.

She gave him a weak smile. "Yeah …" she agreed.

The stare continued. "You've got a mark on your neck," he told her quietly.

Her hand smacked up. She hadn't realized it was that visible – that Ethan could see it from the door. The knife had barely scraped her skin. But she gazed at her fingers to see if there was still lingering drips of blood and she pulled at the collar of her sweater trying to hide the mark from view.

"I'm fine, Ethan," she told him with a firm urgency.

But his eyes just kept on taking her in. This measured look that wasn't unlike the one Hank gave her. But somehow getting them from Ethan was almost more disturbing because they were too penetrating for a boy his age.

"What happened?" he asked.

She just shook her head and shrugged. "Nothing," she provided. "Just work."

Ethan's eyes stayed on her a moment. They clearly conveyed that he knew he was being lied to and then they shifted to Jay in a careful examination. Jay still with that slightly stunted, glassy-eyed look. This paleness about him. Nearly a fatigue. That complexion that so rarely washed over him but when it did it provided that reminder that they still knew so little about each other. That they still held in so many of their secrets. That she still didn't know what exactly it was that had really happened to him in Afghanistan. What he'd seen or done. But it'd been something. Because she knew that look and knew that complexion and she knew she was wearing it that afternoon too. Post-traumatic stress underscored it. And it was even more intensified when it was being triggered by someone you cared about. Someone you loved.

"Did you take care of her?" Ethan asked him in a near whisper.

And Jay just gave him the faintest nod. "Yea, I did, Eth," he said. "I told you. I've got her back. You don't need to worry."

Ethan kept gazing at them. His eyes shifting between them but then he turned, mumbling about needing to get his stuff. As she watched him go, she let her hand come down from her mug and her pinky discretely hook around his.

"My hero," she whispered in a quiet tease from years gone by. Thing was it wasn't a tease anymore. It hadn't been for a while. There was a truth to it. A real one. 'My hero.' He was.


	37. Tough Questions

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **AUTHOR NOTE: THIS CHAPTER COMES IMMEDIATELY AFTER 'HERO'. It will be reordered later.**

Erin lifted her head off the pillow slightly as she heard the footsteps creaking up the stairs and then felt Hank's presence in the doorway. She'd heard him come in and heard him say some things to Jay – but they'd been a definite lack of conversation. Now he was hovering outside Ethan's door. She gazed at him for a moment and then let her hand drop away from her passive twisting of Ethan's blonde hair in where he'd finally drifted off against her shoulder – leaving her to stare at the bottom of the top bunk overhead and to get lost in her own thoughts.

She wriggled out from under his deadweight, him making a small noise of protest but settling into the pillow and the mattress without a fuss. Before she could move to tuck the covers more tightly around him, Bear had snuck up to claim her arm spot on the bed and cuddle into Ethan, resting his head on his paws and seeming to start to drift back to sleep just as quickly as her baby brother.

She walked to the door, giving Hank a thin smile as she stepped outside it and reached to pull it shut behind her. But he put out his hand to stop her, leaving it partway open and gazing in at Eth's form in the dark as she settled her shoulder against the wall outside.

"He OK?" Hank asked.

Erin gave a little shrug. "Yea," she conceded. "He was just a little worked up about seeing the mark on my neck and not getting a straight answer about what happened. Got into one of his question-and-answer sessions about what happened to his mom. The crash."

Hank gazed at her sadly for a moment with that and then shifted his eyes back into the bedroom. "What'd you tell him?"

"Usual talking points," Erin said flatly.

It was a dumbed down story that was supposed to be easier for Ethan to digest. Maybe it was easier for all of them to digest that way.

'Your mom was driving to pick-up your brother from a party. She had to take you because it was late and we were working so there was no one in the house to leave you with. She ended up driving through an area where there was a shooting. One of the bullets hit your mom. She was in shock and disoriented and she drove through a red and into an intersection. A truck was on-coming - really fast - and it hit the car really hard.'

There were always the follow-up questions:

'Did she hurt?' … 'No, Ethan. She died on impact. It happened way too fast for Mommy to have felt anything.' Erin really hoped – for Ethan and for Camille – they weren't lying about that.

'What happened to me? Why didn't I die?' … 'Somehow you got thrown from the car, Ethan. You got really hurt. You hurt you head. Your brain. And you were in a coma for a while.' No one ever knew how to answer the 'why didn't I die?' part. Luck? God smiles on little children? Complete happenstance? A miracle? There wasn't an easy answer but he hadn't died. But he had been put on a really long road that seemed like it was harder than most.

'Did it happen because of dad's job?' That hadn't been one when he was little. But it came up more now. Now that he heard things from people about what happened from their point of view. Now that he heard whispers about who his dad was and who people thought he was and things he did and didn't do and how all that fit together in his twelve-year-old's mind. But the easy answer to that one was that it wasn't because of Hank's job – even though Erin knew that Hank would always carry blame for what happened to his wife and what happened to his son. Scars he had to bear. And ones that reared their face at him every day in more ways than one.

And then also new was, 'Could you get hurt at work?' He hadn't asked that much when he was little. He hadn't even asked it much when Hank or Justin were in jail. He'd asked if people were mean in jail. He'd speculated on the kinds of criminals who were in jail. But he hadn't seemed to consider that there was a very real possibility that Justin or his dad could get hurt in jail. And they had. They both had. But that wasn't something they ever talked about as a family either.

It'd been more since the summer that Ethan seemed to have this realization about the level of danger that existed in their day-to-day. Maybe it was because he saw the late nights they sometimes had. Or saw their stars. Or their guns. Or heard little stories. Or was in at the District and saw the uniforms and criminals and wanted posters and case boards. Or maybe it was because he saw the looks in her eyes or Hank's – and he was old enough now to understand some of what was going on behind them even if he couldn't entirely imagine it and they were doing their best to protect him from ever having to understand it.

They always provided him such B.S. answers for that question too. That they were careful. That they were trained. That the whole unit had their back. That most cops go through their whole careers without taking a bullet and anything that happened to them would just be scrapes and bruises.

Erin had to admit that having Ethan home made her more conscious of it all too. She didn't like seeing him scared. Worrying about them. And she also didn't want to be the source of his worry. And didn't want to think about the pain he'd go through if anything serious ever did happen to her or Hank – or even Justin now when he got deployed. Seeing how concerned he was too when the only glimpse he had of what had really happened was a two inch scratch on her neck and some redness. Something that would physically fade in a matter of days – even if the experience was going to stay with her long after that.

"He settle down?" Hank asked passively.

Erin shrugged. "I gave him one of his anxiety meds," she said. Hank cast her a look but she just shrugged at him again. Sometimes she didn't know what to do when Ethan got worked up like that. Sometimes when he was worked up like that it started to exacerbate some of his other issues – which she knew neither of them wanted. So even though they all had issue with Ethan needing those kinds of pills – it'd seemed like a night where it she was justified in giving him one.

"You take one?" he put to her.

She eyed him harshly at that suggestion. "Not my pills," she said flatly.

He gave a little nod, accepting the answer and going back to looking at Ethan. She glared at him a moment. Sometimes it still felt like he didn't trust her. Didn't believe that she could keep clean and stay straight. To avoid those banana peels. Like he was waiting for her to find another one to slip one. Or worse – like he thought what had happened that afternoon likely was one and she was about to backtrack in some way. But she didn't really want to fight about it. She figured they had other battles. They always did.

"How was your 'dinner invite'?" she put to him a little sarcastically.

He gave her another glance. A little disapproving. "Good. Seems like Eddie has got things set up to give this a real go," he said.

"Mmm …" Erin allowed – internally rolling her eyes. She knew how Hank felt about the guy but she wasn't sure how she felt about him – even if she'd been polite to him the other day. "Noticed the dinner invite wasn't over here."

Hank shrugged. "You know how I feel about these guys seeing E," he said. "Would've preferred that none of them saw you either."

"Anyone who wants to know anything about you, knows you have kids, Hank," she provided.

"Don't mean they got to see what they look like," he said and found her eyes. "You all are a liability," he said and then gestured through the door. "Especially him. Still a little kid. Still home."

Erin raised an eyebrow at him. "A liability, huh? And yet you keep saying you want more grandkids and that I should be getting barefoot and pregnant."

He snorted at her. "Housewife, no. Have some kids of your own. Start a family. Yes," he said and looked her in the eyes. "Being a father – a parent, it's the best thing in the world. You guys. H. Best things in my life. Every day I'm thankful for getting to be a father and grandfather."

Erin kept his gaze for a moment longer but couldn't keep it. She always found it hard to hear him say that for some reason. He told them regularly enough. Not daily. Not even monthly. But he made sure they heard it. Erin liked hearing it but there was something about it that always seemed like an apology too that somehow made her uncomfortable. She knew Hank had made his mistakes. With all of them. Not just with Justin. But she didn't know he needed to – or should be – apologizing for any of it. Even when he hadn't been there – he'd been there. In his own way.

"How are you doing?" he asked, as her gaze moved to her baby brother instead of him.

She shrugged. "I'm OK," she said.

She could feel him looking at her. "You think you should be talking to someone too? Dr. Charles?"

She cast him angry eyes. "I'm fine, Hank."

His eyes looked sad. Those sad eyes that that girl's father had had. Only Hank's were filled with way more knowing than his. Knowledge. He'd seen things. He'd dealt with things. And people. Things that man hadn't dealt with. Things he could only imagine. And Hank knew she had too.

"Don't know how fine you are," he said.

"I'm fine," she pressed even more firmly.

He grunted at her and gestured toward the stairs. "Halstead doesn't look so fine," he provided.

Erin shrugged. "He's OK," she said. Another lie. Seemed like her night was full of telling little lies. Stretch – or hiding – the truth. To try to protect people. Or herself.

"Looked like you'd been into my liquor cabinet," he said.

"I had one," she hissed. It felt like he was testing her again. Questioning her on her ability to know when to stop. Letting his distaste about her going beyond two hang above her. Treating her like a child. Or a drunk. Or an addict. Or all three.

"How many Halstead have?"

"I wasn't keeping count," she said with more annoyance.

"Mmm …" Hank grunted and gazed at her. "You know today is exactly why—"

"Hank, I'm really not ready to talk about it yet," she interrupted.

He grunted and kept those eyes on her. That look that said he didn't like that she'd cut him off and he really didn't like that she wasn't going to hear him out or let him help. But that he was going to treat her like an adult and respect her wishes – but she'd have to deal with the consequences.

"After his paperwork gets signed off on, he gets back upstairs, that's it," Hank said. "You two aren't riding together anymore. So you're going to want to figure out what we're telling the team about that. Don't want to talk to Charles. Don't want to talk to me. Better talk to him."

She wanted to be angry with him but she didn't really have the emotional energy left for that at that point in the day and he didn't give her a chance anyway. He had his say and he'd gone in the door – likely to check on Eth. Or more likely to scoot poor Bear out of the bed.

But Erin sighed – taking it as a moment of escape – and trudged back downstairs. Jay was still sitting on the couch, tugging at a beer and gazing at the T.V. with a far off stare. She went and sat next to him but he hardly even stirred, so she settled against him and he at least shifted to let his arm wrap around her. She stared at the screen too.

"What are you watching?" she asked.

"Some documentary about some corrupt cop in Brooklyn who was dirtier than the deals her was supposed to be policing," he mumbled.

She cast him a look. "Well, that sounds like a good one to be watching in this house."

He just made a sound and kept looking at the screen. He still had that pallor to him. The Jay she knew – loved – wasn't all there that night.

"Want to talk about it?" she asked.

He gave her a confused look. "I can restart it if you want, it's on Netflix. It's only like ten minutes in."

"About today, Jay," she said more gently. "About what happened."

He gave his head a little shake and took a swig of his beer.

"Hank says—"

"I don't want to talk about Hank either," he cut her off.

She sat up a bit and stared at him. This wasn't the Jay she knew. It had rattled him more than maybe she'd initially thought. Maybe she'd let him have too much time to think on it while she hadn't wanted to talk about it either.

"You know how you tell me I need to get in front of whatever's going on?" she put to him and his eyes shifted to her slightly. "Jay, whatever's going on in your head right now, whatever you're thinking, you're feeling – you need to get in front of it. We both do."

"I'm fine," he muttered.

"You don't seem fine," she said.

He just shook his head at her and shifted more away from her weight – to the point he was starting to get up. "You staying here tonight or you want a lift home?"

"I don't think you should be driving anywhere right now," she put to him.

He shrugged and pulled out his phone. "Sure, I'll get an Uber."

She stood and grabbed the phone out of his hand until he met her glare. "I'll drive you," she said. "But we need to talk."

"You didn't want to talk," he said.

"I still don't want to talk," she put to him. "But we need to, Jay. Or this is going to fucking pull us apart."


	38. Medium Rare

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Erin glanced at Jay was she tried to hurry down the street and he was still taking his sweet-ass time and fidgeting all the way.

"Fix your tie," she muttered at him. He cast her eyes but she just glared back. "And hurry up. We're late."

He took a long step to get in stride with her. "What's the big deal?" Jay muttered. "So we're a little late."

Erin's eyes fixed on him again. "He's never late. You know that. You know how he feels about truancy. You should too. Where's your military precision?"

He gave her annoyed eyes again and shoved his hands into his pockets – still ignoring her demand about fixing his tie. "Parking over here at dinner is a bitch. His fault. Should've picked somewhere else."

"This is where he likes to eat on his birthday, Jay," she pressed at him and stopped in front of him and gave him daggers. "Fix your tie," she demanded.

For all his bitching about finding a spot – they might as well have left the car at District and walked over. Because he hadn't found a spot he felt he could suitably wedge his truck in until they were several fucking blocks away from the restaurant. So now they were having to walk a fucking mile. She was not dressed to walk a mile in this weather. And neither was he. Not that he seemed to notice – with his fucking 'I'm a bad ass' leather jacket hanging open over the suit she'd forced him to wear in complete mismatch. He hadn't even bothered to tightened the tie around his neck.

"I don't do ties," Jay pushed at her.

She glared and stepped forward, grabbing at the loose knot and drawing it up to his neck – as he yanked away like she was tightening a noose. She stopped to do up the last two buttons on his shirt he'd left undone.

"There's a dress code," she muttered at him, completely ignoring his little boy behavior.

"I have it on good authority that Eth is wearing plaid," Jay said as she finished and she rolled her eyes. "I was also told I should wear plaid. Now as much as I am opposed to your family tartan, I would gladly go all lumberjack than have this thing around my neck."

"There's a dress code," she told him again, more firmly, and again started her streak down the street.

She shouldn't have bothered with the dress and heels. Pull out one of the fucking pant suits and flats from her brief stint with the Feds and be done with it. But Hank liked when she got dressed up. Possibly more than Jay. She was actually pretty sure that Jay hadn't noticed she had a dress on that night he was so fucking bent out of shape about being asked to put on a suit and tie.

"Voight will not have a suit on to eat a fucking steak," Jay muttered at her.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, where he was still standing with his hands shoved in his pockets, letting the gap between them increase. She was really starting to wonder why she'd invited him. She'd hesitated on it. She actually wasn't going to but then it'd been Hank who'd asked if he was joining them and when she'd sputtered he'd just put flatly, "Make the reservation for four." And that was pretty much the end of the discussion. For all of them. Much to Jay's chagrin, it seemed.

"First," she said to him sternly, "you don't go here for steak. And, second, Voight wears a suit to about four things: weddings, funerals, court dates, and his dinner here once a year."

Jay just shook his head and rolled his eyes but advanced to catch up to her. "It's such a fucking cliché that this is where he picks to eat for his birthday."

She cast him even more annoyed eyes. "It's a Chicago landmark," she said. Jay gave her a look like that didn't help her case. "He knows the current manager. He's part of his social club."

"And … you just destroyed a Chicago landmark for me," Jay said.

"Constantine's a nice guy," she told him with some of warning in her voice.

"As nice of guy as these other 'social club' guys he had us all mixed up with back in November?" Jay put to her.

Erin just shook her head. "Just keep your commentary about his social club and acquaintances to yourself tonight. OK?"

"You're acting like I'm the only one to have issues with some of these people he associates with," he muttered at her. "Who he's dumping Eth on us so he can go and do … whatever it is that Voight does with these people."

She gave him a pissed off look. "It's his birthday, Jay," she said. "All he asked for was a family dinner and a few hours to go and have a couple drinks with his friends."

"'Friends'…" Jay muttered.

She stopped again and glared at him. "One thing Hank didn't request for his birthday was drama, Jay. He said to include you on the reservation," she pressed at him. "But you aren't officially family yet, Jay. So if you don't want to be here or can't be a fucking grown-up about it – just go."

They shared a stare for a long moment but then she turned and started going again, wrapping her wool coat a bit more tightly around her. Dressing up all girlie was so overrated. She was just about freezing all her girlie bits off in this outfit. So Hank could get that fucking fatherly glow on his face and make his annual comment about his tomboy being all cleaned up. Give her army boots and jeans over this shit any day.

It took several yards but she felt Jay get in stride next to her again. "It's kind of ridiculous that he picks here and expects you to pay," Jay offered a bit more congenially. "This place is notoriously overpriced."

She gave him a glance. His hands were still in his pockets but the defiance on his face – the outright annoyance that this was how he'd been asked to spend his evening – had been replaced with some sheepishness.

"He doesn't expect me to pay," Erin said. "We'll likely do a little dance where I try to pay or try to help pay. But he'll pay."

"That's a pretty expensive meal out …" Jay said, giving her a look. She knew he was likely going to really struggle with letting Hank for his meal. Especially after he saw the prices. Or worse – after he saw the menu didn't have prices. Not a good sign about the affordability. Basically – if you needed to know the price before ordering, you shouldn't be eating there.

She just shrugged, though. "It's something he likes to do once a year," she said. "For himself. For his family."

Jay gave her a long side-look. She knew in a lot of ways he still didn't really get Hank. At all. She thought maybe he was starting to. That they were developing more of an understanding of each other at work – and outside of it. But sometimes the way he looked at her – things he said – she knew he had trouble wrapping his head around who Hank was or the way he was. Or maybe it was just how he was as a father or a family man.

Erin supposed she could understand that. Jay didn't talk about his dad much but when he did, he didn't have much nice to say. And, she had to admit what she did hear about him didn't exactly make him that likeable. Nor had her brief encounter with him at Christmas. He seemed pretty much as diatonically opposite of Hank as you could get.

The thing was, though, she didn't really know anything other than Hank when it came to fathers. She barely had a concept of who her father was. She'd hardly even seen any pictures of him to even know what he'd looked like. She could barely remember him. The shadowy image in her mind was just that – a shadow that she wasn't even sure existed. A voice over a phone that just delivered broken promises and always sounded so rough and so rushed. He'd never really wanted to talk to her. Or see her. Why else would she not even know where he was not. Did he even care where she was. That she existed. Not likely. But that was something she'd mostly come to terms with a long time ago. Her father – or Bunny's unwitting sperm donor, as she often saw him – had never been there. And his absence carried more consequence – more cause and affect – than him being there did. It likely would've been worse if he had been around enough to be more than a snapshot in her mind and some shoebox.

She had her family. Hank and Camille and Justin and Ethan. She may have only gotten them for the tail end of her childhood – but they were still more of a family than anything she'd had growing up. And they still were now. Hank had shown her more about what a father was in the time she'd known him – and had him as her dad – than she'd ever expected to get. He'd more than made up for any lost time she'd had in having positive, caring, adult male role models in her life. And even though she didn't need to told he was far from perfect. That he had his own ways. And sometimes he really fucked up the whole parenting thing. Stumbled around as much as she saw anyone else stumble around when they were handed that title. But at least he kept trying and stumbling and doing his best to figure it out. He was a good person. A good dad. Even when he was screwing up. They all knew they were cared about. That Hank would do his best to make sure they were OK. Bend over backwards as much as he could to do right by them. Erin didn't think even Justin would argue that. And having someone in your corner like that counted for a lot – even if they were flawed. He was human. He was supposed to be.

Jay gave his head a little shake. "This is such a working man's thing. Buying a good steak."

She cast him another look. "He's a working man, Jay," she said flatly. "And it's not steak – it's prime rib. He'll be insulted if you order the steak."

He gave her a look. "Since when does Eth even eat red meat? Like … what … $60 red meat?"

Erin shrugged. "Hank will deal with it," she said. "And Ethan knows the drill. And he knows it's his dad's birthday."

"It's just a lot of money to spend on something you eat – or in Ethan's case, don't eat," Jay muttered.

Erin sighed and looked at him. "It's something he did with his wife, Jay," she put to him. "It's where she'd take him for his birthday. It's something she would've saved up for. Especially this soon after Christmas. They might've been a way better living situation than anything I'd had – but they were working people. They were pretty pay check to pay check. They scrimped and budgeted. And this was something special she did for him, OK? And eventually they started inviting us when me and Justin got older – including us. And now it's something that Hank likes to treat us to once a year too. It's something he'd be budgeting for too. It is expensive. But it's special. And it's his thing. And it's about Camille. So, please, he invited you … just … go with it."

He stared at her a long time again and she could again seeing the gears processing. Him again taking in more about Hank – and what it'd been like growing up in the Voight household than maybe she wanted to share. But it was what it was. She was having to share more and more of herself with him. Reveal bits and pieces. And, if Hank seemed to be accepting that that reality was happening – that it meant part of his life and his family life was being exposed – she knew she had to to. It was kind of how marriage worked?

But eventually Jay just wordlessly reached for her hand. His flesh was cold in the winter air – but there was still warmth to his touch as his fingers thread with hers and they finished their walk to the restaurant. Not talking anymore.

Hank and Ethan were standing in front of the restaurant – having not gone inside. Ethan was shivering and looking like Hank had given him about hypothermia with the wait. He glared at her as they approached and she cast Jay a dirty look. She knew what was coming.

"You're late," was the first thing Hank said to her.

"We had trouble finding parking," she provided lately.

"There's a garage around the corner," he said with a gesture.

"Jay drove," she said. "He prefers to spend his money on gas, driving around looking for a spot to park his monster truck on the street."

Hank looked at him, his tongue running across his teeth behind his lips. "That's pretty dumb-ass at this time of day."

Jay just looked at him. "Ah, yeah, happy birthday to ya, Sarge."

"They're here. Can we go in now?" Ethan whined. "I'm cold."

"Mmm …" Hank grunted and moved to get the door. "Hopefully they held our reservation."

Erin rolled her eyes as Ethan hobbled in front of her on his crutches to get inside as fast as his crippled little body would carry him.

"We're like ten minutes late, Hank," she muttered as him as he held the door for her. He just grunted and eyed her. She hadn't even taken off her jacket and he was giving her the once over. Hopefully he was fucking registering that her legs were risking frostbite so he could get his annual opportunity to tease her about wearing a dress. "I'm pretty sure Constantine knew you were coming …"

He just grunted again at that comment, as him and Jay followed her inside the stately windowless restaurant. But it always felt like you were stepping back in time when you entered the place. Another era. And another world. A different kind of Chicago. It seemed so Hank. You'd almost expect that Al Capone would've been cozied up in a booth somewhere in the back, cutting into a rare cut of meat too. It was old time tradition at its finest. This quiet intimacy to it. Masculine in its refinery. But still a place for families. A place for them to share their own moments and traditions – in public privacy.

Erin was right, though. Constantine did know they were coming – and he was there with the greeter waiting for their arrival.

"If that's Hank Voight, it must be his birthday," Constantine smiled as they got inside.

Hank smiled and stepped forward, gripping the other man's hand tightly with one hand and squeezing at his elbow with the other. "Hey Connie."

"So how old is it this year, Hank?" Connie teased, as their handshake parted.

Hank made a dismissive gesture. "Let's not think about that," he said. "Birthday's just happenstance got other things to celebrate this time around."

"Oh, yeah," Connie nodded, gesturing for the female greeter to come around and gather their coats, which she diligently did. Though, Erin ended up having to help Ethan as he flailed around and trying to get his arms out of the sleeves and manage the crutches at the same time. "What we celebrating?"

Hank reached out to find Ethan, casting her a momentary look as she worked to get the one crutch back stable around his forearm. But Eth was more interested in getting attention from his dad. The little boy in him still came out when he wanted to play shy and when he was going to play shy he was going to do it hiding behind big bad dad. He settled under Hank's arm, resting just away from his side.

"This one got onto the robotics team at school," Hank bragged at Connie. "Youngest team member ever."

Connie smiled. "Well, look at you, Magoo," he said and shook his head at Hank. "Looking more and more like Cami every year, Hank."

Hank grunted and gave Ethan's shoulder a little squeeze. "Her brains too, I tell ya," he said.

Connie just gave him a thin smile and looked back to Ethan. "Well, congrats there, Ethan."

"Thank you," Ethan said quietly, looking more than a little embarrassed by the attention.

"Got more for ya," Hank said and gestured at Erin. "This one went and got engaged."

Connie's eyes bolted to her. "She didn't? This heartbreaker?"

Erin gave an embarrassed look – not unlike Ethan's and cast Hank a bit of a look at his announcement. But she let herself hold up her finger to show off the newly resized ring that was eliminating her excuses about having it on. Still, she wasn't exactly used to waving it in front of people yet. But something about this introduction made it feel natural to flash the bling.

Connie was already making a beeline around the desk to wrap her in a hug. "Congratulations," he gushed and gestured as Jay as he moved back. "This the guy?"

Hank grunted before she had a chance to reply. "Yeah, that's the future son-in-law. Jay Halstead."

Connie's hand was out pumping Jay's before he even had a chance to think much about how he felt about any of it. Erin could see some of the discomfort on his face about being shown off to Hank's 'friends' and 'acquaintances'. But she was too hung up on hearing Hank refer to him as 'future son-in-law' to really care what Jay's face was saying. That phrase was ringing in her ears more. She hadn't heard him refer to Jay yet that way.

"You're getting them all married off, Hank," Connie teased, as he returned to the desk and retrieved the oversized menu portfolios.

"I'm working on it," Hank conceded. "Two thirds of the way there."

Connie just gave him a look and a small shake of a head. "Time just gets away on you, doesn't it?"

"Mmm…" Hank allowed.

And Connie gestured for them to follow him into the restaurant, Hank then gesturing on his own for the lot of them to go first. He gave he another look as she went by and touched her elbow.

"Clean up nice," he said with that thin dad-smile he gave with his tease.

She raised a condescending eyebrow at him. "Took you long enough …"

He just snorted at her and let go of her elbow to let Jay escort her, following up behind. Constantine guided them through the ornate dining room – under the chandeliers and the mahogany paneling and the towering staircase up to the intimate lounge on the upper level.

"Got you set up in the usual booth at the back," Connie offered.

"Mmm …" Hank grunted but stopped and glanced around the center of the dining area at the tables with the heavy high-backed chairs. "Actually, Connie, table might be better this year. If it's no trouble," he said and gestured at Ethan.

Constantine gazed at the boy for a moment before the recognition that Eth's mobility would likely play an issue in him getting easily in and out of the plush dark booths. It wasn't so much the sitting down that Hank was likely worried about. It was that if there was the need for a sudden bathroom trip, getting him upright and to find his footing might be a challenge.

"Sure … no problem," Connie corrected and gestured at one of the serving staff before redirecting them across the restaurant.

Hank pulled out a chair for Ethan, while Jay got hers and they sat while Connie handed them the menus. He stopped at Ethan, giving Hank a glance.

"So what's the story, Big Guy? How's the appetite?"

Ethan looked to his dad. "He'll order off the menu," Hank provided on his behalf. "But we're likely going to need the kids' portions."

Connie nodded. "No problem," he agreed, as he rotated around the table dropping the napkins into their laps. Jay looked obscenely awkward about that maneuver.

"Connie," Hank said putting a hand on his elbow as he passed his chair and lowering his voice a bit. "Got some dietary restrictions going on with him. So we're going to need some modifications."

Constantine nodded seriously. "No problem, Hank," he agreed. "You just let your server know what you need. There any problems, you flag me down."

"Thanks, Connie," Hank rasped and looked back to the table, reaching for his menu.

"Gonna grab you folks a bottle of wine," Connie added. "On the house, to get these celebrations started." Hank gave him a thin smile of thanks again and Connie gave him a brief pat on the shoulder. "Server will be with you in a minute. Putting our best on your table."

Hank reached and opened his menu as Connie disappeared, so Erin took that as her permission to do the same, giving Jay a small look so he did too. He didn't look overly comfortable with the situation yet. But he seemed a lot more present than he had been during the drive over.

Ethan just sat there looking unsurely around so Hank leaned over and flipped the menu open in front of him. "You take a look and let me know if you need any help," he said.

"The salad and the baked potato," Ethan said quietly. Erin smiled a little and cast Hank a look. Ethan and his fucking salad. He baby brother loved at that place that his salad was made in front of him and readied in a giant serving bowl. He'd love it even more if the salad wasn't transferred to a plate and he was allowed to eat it out of the big bowl. And the potatoes – well – at this place they were probably as big as Ethan's head.

Hank examined his son for a moment. "E, you won't be able to get the sour cream or butter on it. OK? Just the bacon and chives." Ethan nodded in agreement and Hank reached again and gently smoothed at his son's hat hair. "I want you to pick a entrée, Magoo. We've got to get some protein into you."

Ethan let out a little sigh and gazed at the menu. "Chicken," he said quietly.

"There's not chicken on the menu, Eth," Hank chided in a low voice.

Erin leaned in to her brother's space too to try to help. "There's salmon, Ethan," she provided, pointing it out for him. He made a face and shook his head. "Lobster tail?"

"That's an accompaniment," Hank rasped.

Erin just shrugged at him. "If I get a lobster tail with my dinner will you eat it, Eth?"

He gazed at her and then looked back to Hank. "I want to share yours, Dad."

Hank looked at him for a long moment. "I'm getting the prime rib, Magoo. Medium rare. Beef. Very red beef."

Ethan just nodded. "I want to share with you."

Erin let out a little sigh and gave Ethan's shoulder a little tug. "Eth, let your dad have his birthday meal without picking at his plate."

Hank was always managing Ethan's food so much anymore that so much of the food he put on his plate was just there to transfer to his son's to try to entice him and bribe him into putting something into his mouth. It was their daily routine and battle. And it shouldn't be that night. Not on Hank's birthday. Not at that kind of restaurant.

But Hank shook his head and reached to again try to flatten the mess of hair that Ethan had managed to get on the trip over to the restaurant contrasted against the smart clothes that his dad had put him in. Making him that perfect balance of little boy cute. Still so rumpled and small that the fact he was right on the cusp of tumbling into being a teenager was masked. His dad's thumb rested against his forehead for a moment.

"It's OK," he said and looked into his son's eyes. "We'll share. Pick out another accompaniment."

Ethan gazed at the menu. "Asparagus," he sounded out cautiously.

"Asparagus," Hank nodded. "Good choice."

Erin watched the two of them for a moment – gazing at their menus and Hank rasping quietly at his son in a discussion about what they'd order and what he expected him to put in his mouth. But then she felt that another set of eyes was looking at them. She glanced and saw Jay staring this far off look to his face.

Hank must've sensed it too. He looked up at the two of them. A look creasing more across his forehead than appearing in his eyes.

"What you two getting?" he muttered at them before looking back to his own menu card.

"Prime rib," Jay replied.

Hank gave him another small glance and a little nod. "Good choice. Which cut?"

"What'd you recommend?" he asked and as he did, Erin felt his hand reach across under the table and find where hers was resting in her lap, giving it a little squeeze.

She glanced at him. And so did Hank. First time she'd ever say – or ask – Hank something like that too. For any kind of advice – even if it was a meal.

But Hank just eyed him for a moment and then grunted and looked back to the menu and gave his answer. And justification for it too.

Like he always did. Whether you liked it or not.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: I posted a chapter earlier today with Hank/Ethan. Please see the end of the chapter for other notes about stuff related to this story and my writing/posting.**

 **Also, please note that the Jay/Erin future plans/marriage talk chapter will be written and posted eventually. As will an explanation/fallout from the last chapter Try Out. It was basically supposed to be set at the end of this week's episode with her having the knife on her, Jay shooting the guy. I might do a reaction chapter at some point to show the fallout. But as noted in the notes at the end of last chapter, I'm not really going to be writing in sequence anymore. But things will eventually get written and then eventually moved around to be in sequence in the story with moving the chapters to reorder them.**


	39. Present

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Hank gave Erin a thin smile as he stopped talking and leaned back in his seat, folding his hands. He'd had the rather abrupt realization that he'd been talking at the group of kids and they hadn't much been participating. Not that he'd really been giving them a chance. Hopping from on anecdote to the next. Not even really saying much of anything. Just remembering, he guessed.

But his girl just smiled back. Likely just humoring him. But with Erin he couldn't always ask for that. So fucking strong-headed.

It'd been a nice evening, though. Liked this evening. Looked forward to it all year. Probably would've liked it more if he could've had his eldest son at the table too. But it'd been a real long time since he'd had all three of his kids at the table for this meal. And Justin wasn't ready for it anyway.

Kid hadn't even called him yet with any sort of birthday greeting. No email or text. No card in the mail from his grandson. Hank was giving him the benefit of the doubt that he just hadn't remembered. Olive likely didn't know either. If it'd been marked on the calendar, she likely would've got H on the horn for him to talk at for a couple minutes. Not a big deal, though. Boys – they don't remember those kinds of things. Maybe? Magoo only knew because he had Erin reminding him. Girl thing. Woman thing. Remembering birthdays. Until you were a dad. Or at least a single dad. Then you at least better know the dates of your offspring. Though Voight knew the birth dates of his mother and his father. Remembered them. But he wasn't Justin. And Justin wasn't him.

Food had been good, though. But it always was. Magoo had eaten some and Erin had tucked away good portion of her helping. Fucking Halstead was trying to be all polite or sophisticated or something and hadn't dug in as much as he should've. But whatever. He could take a plate home. Though the guy would likely turn down that too. Too much pride. Not worth it.

Kids had done right by him. Even though he'd instructed them not to bother with a birthday gift – that they'd done more than enough at Christmas. They'd really overdone it with those hockey tickets. But they hadn't listened. Or Erin hadn't listened. Though, E had told him they'd picked the gift when they'd done their Christmas shopping anyway. Wasn't like with all the chaos they'd had the past few weeks that Erin would've listened to him and taken the thing back.

"You'll never guess what it is," Erin told him as she handed him the box and he'd gone into his little lecture about them not supposed to be handing him anything. But it'd been the usual shirt for work that ended up under the tree at the holidays. That year was a hold over to his birthday.

"Erin picked the colors," Ethan told him when he got the lid off to take a look at the thing and express the appropriate gratitude that the kids had thought of him and tried. "She said I picked bad colors."

Erin rolled her eyes at Magoo. "It was red."

"You have red flannel," Ethan contended at her.

She gave him eyes. "One – that shirt if not flannel. It's just a shirt. And two – when have you ever seen your dad wear red?"

"So it's a color he doesn't have!" Ethan pressed at her. "He's got lots of blue and green and brown already!"

Hank just shook his head and held up a hand to stop the bickering. "Thank you for the shirt," he told them firmly.

"It's flannel," Ethan clarified. "Not a shirt."

"Mmm," Hank grunted. "I can feel that."

Erin just rolled her eyes again. "Sorry," she said. "He was very insistent about the flannel."

Hank gave a small snort of amusement at that and gave his head a little shake.

"Flannel Fridays, Dad," Ethan pushed at him.

"Ethan's very fashion conscious …" Erin provided sarcastically.

Hank allowed a thin smile. "It's OK," he assured her. "Going to be a cold one this winter."

Erin just shrugged. She knew that the thicker material wasn't his thing. But he'd put it on a few times to appease Magoo. Probably not to go into work on a Friday, though. Maybe more like to add an extra layer when he shoveled the walk or took the damn dog around the block.

Card had been better. Erin always wrote a little sentence or two that made reminded him that he'd done good bringing her home and into their family. Made him feel like maybe he hadn't fucked up fatherhood too much. And Magoo was still young enough that he did more than just scrawl his name or 'happy birthday'. He still got an 'I love you' or 'You're the best dad' written in there from his boy. Needed to enjoy it while it lasted. Wouldn't last much longer that was for sure.

E had also shoved a stickie note in there. "FART FREE DAY" the kid had scrawled on it.

Hank had looked at it a little confused.

"It's a coupon, Dad," Ethan had provided him with this complete shit-eating grin. Kid thought he was being funny. "For a Fart Free Day."

Hank had shaken his head and handed it across the table to his son. "Don't need this. Don't fart."

"Because he's such a tight ass," Erin had deadpanned, which had gotten a laugh out of Halstead, who'd done his best to stifle it before Voight had even shot eyes at him.

"Maybe that's why his farts are the stinkiest of everyone," Ethan had provided. "Doesn't fart enough."

Hank had given him a glare, though it'd had shifted from his son to Erin when she'd said, "That's a possibility."

"Yours are pretty bad too," Halstead had got in there at that point and Erin had gaped at him and smacked him in the arm. Halstead didn't seem to care, though he'd given her a brief look, grabbing at his shoulder like she'd actually stung him.

"He's right," Ethan had agreed. "The bathroom smells the grossest after you."

Erin had shaken her head and glared at her little brother. But Ethan had just handed the coupon back to Voight. "See, Dad, you should keep it. You might need it."

Hank had just grunted and taken it back – sort of hoping that they could end the potty talk in the restaurant with that kind of price tag. But that hope had died when he glanced and seen that there was another 'coupon' stuck underneath that had Erin's writing and simply said, "SHIT FREE DAY".

"This you promising not to be so hard on my bathroom?" he put to her flatly.

She rolled her eyes. "I meant it more as I'd take the dog out for a walk or pick up the yard for you."

Voight grunted. "Guess a bullshit free day is too much to ask?"

Erin had just raised her eyebrow at him. But he thought they all knew that a bullshit free day was way too much ask. Between home and kids and work and scum in the city, there was always going to be some kind of bullshit to deal with – no matter if he had some coupon from his kids or not.

The two of them, though. Both thought they were funny. Smart asses. The both of them. Camille would like that. Hellions. Always calling the kids hellions. In the nicest way possible. She wouldn't have traded it. Guess thinking about that got him in on his rambling he'd subjected his kids to until he forced himself to stop running his mouth now.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced to see Connie giving it a squeeze. "Birthday Boy not going to eat his cake?" he asked with a gesture at the unfinished dessert in front of him.

"Where am I supposed to put that after the kind of meal you fed me?" Hank put back to him, giving his hand a pat, before the man moved and leaned on the back of Ethan's chair.

E had drifted. It was a late night for him. Weren't even at their sitting until seven. It was after 9:30 now. Clock pushing its way to ten. That was late for Magoo these days. Funny. His kid had given him so much trouble about lights out and an established time to have his ass upstairs and in bed when he'd first come home. But these days with everything his poor body was going through and the rigors of getting through a full day of school – his kid was putting himself to bed by about 8 p.m. more times than not. Wasn't doing much for getting much homework done or even giving Hank much time to see his son by the time he got home – but the kid needed his rest.

Somewhere in the midst of the talk after dinner and dessert, Eth had started slumping against his sister. It was pretty clear his eyes were starting to get heavy and eventually he'd just settled into her lap, Erin adjusting his oversized chair and him curling his rundown little body between the two. Hadn't seemed to stir since. He was out for the count.

"These animals couldn't help you out?" Connie asked, gesturing at the trio of younger people and looking down to give Eth a little smirk.

"She's watching her figure," Hank teased.

Connie tossed his head back in mock shock. "Don't give me that," he said and looked at Erin. "You're as beautiful as ever." Erin just raised her eyebrow at him.

She didn't do compliments on her appearance and she usually tried to dress down to hide what she had going on. Hank knew all sorts of reasons why she was like that. A lot of it came down to self-esteem and self-worth. And that Bunny had fucked her up and let some unforgivable things happen to her as a little girl. Of course she was going to hide under her tomboy look and heavy boots. Try to be that bad ass that she'd been working on convincing him she was since she was Magoo's age. Too bad he saw through it. Still a little girl. Always had been. Tough little shit but still a girl. A woman now … Nice to see her let down some of her walls sometimes. Hopefully she figured out how to do that with Halstead too. And he figured out that she liked the teasing about the dresses and the compliments about how she looked in them. Camille would love to see her in that wedding dress – so even in the two of them were planning on this civil ceremony thing, Erin better be planning on buying a dress.

"What about this one?" Connie asked, gesturing down at Ethan again. "Told them to bring out the flourless cake and the sorbet for you so he could dig in."

Hank gave his bicep a squeeze for the thought. "Can't do sugar or dairy these days either, Connie. But thanks for the thought."

"Hmm …" Connie allowed and gave a little frown, looking down at Voight's boy again. "Heard he gave you a real good scare before Christmas?"

Hank shrugged. Hated when he was the talk of the town for any reason. Especially when the talk was focused on any of his kids. People wanted to get on the rumor mill about him – that was one thing. Chatter about his kids was another. But he knew things got back to the social club. Or people there got it out to other places. Had to be careful about it. But it was what it was.

"Had a rough patch," Hank provided. "Doing better now."

Connie let out a little snort at that. "Looks it," he said.

Hank could see how having a twelve year old sleeping in a restaurant – and coming in on crutches – likely didn't look too much like his son was doing much better. But Voight thought it'd been a pretty good day for Magoo – and evening. He'd eaten some. He'd been chatty too. Got them all filled in on the whole robot club thing. Feather in the kid's cap. Hopefully it let him stay cocky for a bit. Kid was already speculating about them getting to Regionals and getting a weekend in St. Louis and thinking on even grander terms on if they got to Nationals and a trip to D.C. Kid was in Seventh Heaven with that idea. The Smithsonian. Kid always went on about that. And constantly reminded Hank that they'd taken a family trip there before he was born. Actually before Erin was in the picture too. Just Justin along for that one. Some conference of Camille's. Hank had never really felt the need to go back. Though, with E's interests anymore, seemed like it would only be a matter of time before he was forced to make the trip just to get the kid to shut up about it.

"So you planning on shutting the place down or can I bring you the check?" Connie put to him but then cast his eyes to Erin and Halstead. "Or should I be asking these guys? You know daughters and future son-in-laws got their uses, right, Hank? Especially if they're looking at the Bank of Dad for the big day."

Hank just grunted and shook his head. "I got it, Connie," he assured.

"Hank—" Erin started but he cast her a look.

"We gonna play that game?" he put to her flatly.

She sighed but Halstead sat forward. "You know, Sarge—"

Voight held up a hand. "Don't you start too," he rasped and turned his eyes back to Connie. 'Just ring up our tab. I'll be up to the bar in a few."

Connie nodded and gave his shoulder another squeeze. "Gonna see you over at the club?"

Hank gave his own little nod in response. "Headed that way. But don't know you'll see me. Old man now, Connie. Can only manage so late of night."

"Aww," Connie said. "He says that now but after we crack that box of wine and start shooting the shit, he'll be singing a different tune."

He gave the kids a smile and then traced back across the dinning room that had become sparser and sparser as the evening wore on. Last sitting as at nine. Even most of those late diners were nearing the end of their meal.

Voight looked across the table at Halstead and Erin and reached for the bit he had left of his drink on the table. "Get going," he said.

Erin sighed at him and gave Halstead a look. Fucking Halstead looked a little awkward about the whole thing. But he certainly wasn't going to let the guy pay for his meal and wasn't going to even entertain Erin paying for the two of them or half the check or whatever nonsense either of them were thinking about putting forward. His face must've said that clearly enough because eventually Erin just looked into her lap and gave E's shoulder a little shake.

"Eth, time to wake up," she told him. But the kid just made a little noise and didn't stir. Erin sighed at him a bit and was about to try to push out her chair and wriggle out from under him – Voight readying himself to bark at his kid. Before he could, though, Halstead had risen and come around Erin's chair.

"I've got him," he muttered and bent to lift the boy off Erin's lap, pulling him up to him and Eth just settling like he'd hardly even stirred – like he was really out for the count. "God, he's light," Halstead nearly whispered, like it was the first time he'd ever picked up the kid.

Voight supposed it likely was. Though there'd definitely been other incidents around when Erin was alone dealing with a tired sick kid and Halstead had been there to help. Hank knew that. One of the reasons he'd forced himself to trust the guy a bit and let some of the walls crack a bit. Give him some leeway. He'd earned that with Magoo. But it was strange to see it. His boy in that guy's arms. Hank couldn't even think of the last time he'd seen Justin pick him up. Likely not since he was a toddler. Even the hugs J gave to his baby brother weren't much more than the half-armed embraces. Stung a bit to have that realization wash over him.

But it was good. Good Erin had someone to help. Good that Eth seemed fairly comfortable with Halstead. Good because Eth had tired nights and sick days and moments were his legs just weren't working and he needed help with the stairs or he was so weak he needed some one to hold him up or help him get to some place real quick before his legs gave out. J couldn't be – or wouldn't be – that work horse, that pack horse. Maybe Jay would.

Erin rose from her chair, smoothing down her dress before putting a hand on Eth's back.

"Want me to take him?"

Halstead just shook his head. "I've got it," he said.

Erin eyed him for a moment but shifted to Hank. He could see she was trying to weigh his reaction to the situation. But he just kept a straight face. His family dynamic was changing. It was growing. It was what it was.

"You want us to take the birthday stuff for you?" she offered.

Voight grunted. "I'll just leave it in the Escalade."

Erin gave a little nod and clutched at that clutch purse thing she had with her. "Did you want me to take him back to my place for the night?" she asked. "So you get the house to yourself?"

He gave her a thin smile. Could take that so many ways. But what the fuck did he need the house to himself for anyways? Never what that place was meant for. Not why it was bought. Not why he still had it.

"Nah," he said. "Like coming home to my kids at night."


	40. Stories

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **AUTHOR NOTE: The chapter 'Tough Questions' was posted last night — before the 24 hour mark — so it didn't bump. A lot of people appear to have missed it. It has been reordered and is currently listed as Ch. 37.**

"Thanks," Erin muttered at Jay, as he set Ethan down on his bunk bed and the kid, just rolled on his side, preparing to sleep in his clothes. Erin shook her head and tapped at his knees. "Eth, c'mon, you aren't going to sleep in your clothes. Get changed."

He just mumbled at her and let his eyes slip shut.

Erin wasn't sure he'd really opened them at all on the way home. He hadn't to the truck. He'd hung off Jay like deadweight. He hadn't even let go to let them get his jacket on so they'd just draped both his winter coat and Jay's leather jacket over top of him for the rather chilly walk. He'd managed to open his eyes long enough when they were getting him into the truck to tell her that his legs were really bothering him and to ask for one of his pain pills but she'd had to tell him he'd need to wait until they got home.

Really she should likely start carrying the things with her. She was pretty sure Hank had some stashed in his desk for afternoons Eth turned up at District and complained of pain or muscle rigidity. You'd think she'd keep some in her purse (that she rarely carried) and desk drawer too – but Hank generally guarded Eth's meds pretty fiercely. Preferred they be kept in the house. Which made sense to a point – except for the fact that with school back in session, Eth wasn't spending a lot of time in the house. No more than the rest of them.

But it bothered her too. It felt sometimes like he didn't trust her to manage his pills – when he did trust her to manage his pills. But only out of the top shelf in the highest cupboard in the kitchen – well out of Ethan's reach. He could still get them if he really wanted to. He knew where they were. But it'd take an effort to reach them. It was more of a precaution and a punishment after his whole pusher situation at the school and then the whole trading his pills for pot in the summer. It was going to take a long time for Hank to get over that and fully trust Eth with the kinds of medication he had in his possession again. The thing was, she didn't think he fully trusted her with the kind of pills Ethan got prescribed either. She understood where Hank was coming from. But it pissed her off too. She knew she was earning back his trust. That what'd had happened was water on the bridge. That they'd all moved on – because they had to. They had other things to deal with now. And she thought she'd more than proved herself and her abilities and the fact she had her shit together. But still some of these things lingered. Hung over her – them. Even if they didn't talk about it as actively anymore.

"Eth," she said, giving his shoulder a little shake. "Did Daddy give you your injection before you came to dinner?" He just mumbled at her again. "Is that a yes or no?"

He hadn't given her a straight answer on that yet and she'd asked him several times. She should've thought to ask Hank before leaving but hadn't thought. Now he wasn't answering his texts. But he finally must've checked and it dinged. She looked at it and glanced at Jay's hovering. "He didn't," she told him. "Can you grab it for me? I'm going to get him changed."

Jay just nodded and left so she bent back over the bed, looping her finger under Ethan's one suspender and popping it off his shoulder.

"C'mon, Ethan," she pressed at him again. "You aren't a little boy. Sit up and get changed."

He squinted at her out of the corner of his one eye. "I'll sleep in my underwear," he mumbled.

Erin shook her head and went over to his dresser. "You'll be too cold," she told him.

She popped open the pajama drawer and grabbed the first set she saw. Funny. Hank had stopped buying the kid pajamas a couple years ago as Ethan evolved from little boy to typical boy who just slept in his shorts and tshirt. But with Eth's perpetual state of freezing anymore, he'd mounted quite the collection over the course of the fall. The drawer was near overflowing.

He'd partially listened to her when she turned back around and was sitting bleary eyed on the edge of the bed, fumbling around with the buttons on his shirt. His hands didn't look like they were working that well that night either. She'd noticed at dinner too that he was fumbling. He'd throwing some of his salad at himself and struggled to get it on his fork. Hank had ended up cutting the prime rib he'd put on his son's plate in really small pieces to try to save him from having to manage a fork and knife but Ethan had still had trouble getting the food on his fork.

Some of that might just be fatigue. And the more tired her brother got the less he was able to think straight and take care of himself. The more and more he became that little boy who needed to be taken care of and mothered.

"Just pull it over your head," she told him and reached to tug at the collar and draw it up over his head. He flailed a bit with that too and ended up knocking his wrist against the top bunk in the process. He gave her a pained look as they did get him free of the material and she handed him the waffle thermal top to sleep in. "You've got to let Dad get rid of this top bunk, Ethan. It's a pain in the ass."

And it was. Hank complained about it too. Because really it was her and Hank who ended up having to change his sweat-soaked or urine-soaked sheets in the middle of the night and having to crawl around the damn thing and bump their heads on the upper bunk. Or it was them trying to help Ethan get to his feet or settle him into the bed on the nights he couldn't even drag himself upstairs with his crutches. They were constantly bumping their heads. And this hope that at some point he was going to have some little buddy to have sleepovers with and would want the upper bunk just seemed absurd. He was likely about passed the sleepover phase anyways – even if he hadn't managed to get invited to any of them yet.

The whole house just wasn't set up for Ethan at all. They were all aware of it. Hank was definitely aware of it. He'd mentioned more than once that he thought he was going to get some contractors to come in and tell him what it'd take to get a bathroom put in on the main level – because Eth navigating the stairs on the crutches was a little much. On days he was in pain, he just looked like a little old man. Or a toddler. There'd been some days where the poor kid had decided he was better to sit down and bump down each step one at a time on his ass than to try to manage them with his unreliable legs.

"Can you get out of your pants?" she asked him. "I can go find your pain pills for you."

"I need help standing up," he told her meekly.

"Ethan, just do it sitting down. Just lift your butt and wriggle out," she told him.

He gazed at her and looked at the clasp on the front of the dress pants. "My fingers aren't working good enough to do it sitting down …"

She gave him a sad smile – because what more could she really do – and then stepped forward and put her hand in his armpit, gripping at his bicep while he grabbed at her arm and she hauled him to his unsteady feet. His hands fumbled around at his waist and she could tell he was still struggling.

"I've got it," she told him quietly and reached to gently move his hands away and in one movement managed to pull apart the clasps and then hold the loose waist so the pants didn't immediately fall down. "Got them?" she asked.

He nodded and staggered from her grip to sit back down, shuttling the pants off and working to get the soft sleep pants on.

"Take off your socks too," she instructed flatly and turned her back to give him some privacy, going back to the dresser and retrieving a pair of the thick wool socks. He was clothed by the time she came back to the bed and she hiked up her dress a bit to let herself crouch down and reached for his feet. She shook her head as her hands touched them. "They're ice blocks, Eth," she said sadly.

"They hurt," he mumbled.

"I bet," she acknowledged. She actually really couldn't imagine. And it pained her so much the even daily challenges her baby brother went through anymore. And this was one of his good days. But rather than letting herself dwell on it – because that was just a rabbit hole – she worked on putting his socks on for him so he didn't have to winch and fumble around to do that himself.

"I think Dad misses Mom today," Ethan said as she worked on that.

She glanced at him and shrugged. "Likely," she said. "Some days he misses her more than others."

"He was talking 'bout her lots," Ethan provided.

She gave him a thin smile and nodded, looking back to getting his sock on the opposite foot. "Yea," she acknowledged.

"He doesn't usually talk 'bout her," Ethan said. "He usually just does his sad-happy face and makes that sound."

Erin cast him a little smile at that – because she knew exactly what he was talking about. But she just rose and scuffed at his hair. Jay came back into the room and held out a pill bottle at her.

"These the right ones?" he asked of the pain meds that she hadn't even asked him to retrieve but he'd been astute enough to think of on his own.

She gazed at the bottle and nodded, popping the lid and giving Ethan one. Jay handed him a bottle of water and Erin readied the needle to deliver her brother's daily injection as he gulped it down, giving him a glance.

"You need to drink more water than that with those pills, Eth," she muttered at him.

"Then I'll have to pee," he said.

She shrugged. "Then you'll have to pee," she said and nodded at the bottle. "Drink. Half." He made a sound but listened and chugged a bit more and then gazed at her. So she held out the needle at him. "You going to do this?"

He shook his head. "You …" he said quietly.

She allowed a thin smile. A sad one. She hated this duty. Even though Ethan had been trained to do it himself – he didn't like to. She didn't blame him. But she also didn't like having to be the one doing it. She preferred to let Hank do it. Not that she thought it was any easier for him to deal with giving his son injections on a daily basis. But it broke a piece of her heart every time she had to do it too. But it was just something you did for your baby brother.

"Lay back," she told him.

He moved to settle back in the bed, pulling up the side of his shirt for her to find a spot to push the injection into his little, fragile body. "Where's Bear?" he asked.

Erin glanced at Jay again. He wasn't squeamish about blood or needles but he always got this look on his face when he was around when Ethan needed his injections too. There was a sadness there too. So he was likely relieved when she gave him permission to leave the room.

"Can you let the dog out of the basement?" she asked. "I'll be down in a couple minutes."

"Sure," Jay acknowledged and gave Ethan a small smile. "Night, Eth."

"Night," Ethan muttered but his eyes were set on the top bunk, clearly trying not to focus on what was about to puncture his flesh.

Erin made quick work of it. For both of their sakes.

"There," she said and pulled his shirt back into place, waiting for him to catch her eyes again. "OK?"

Ethan gave a little nod but gave her sad eyes. "I don't feel that good," he said.

"I know," she acknowledged. "But you're tired, Eth. So you just need to rest."

He let out a little sigh and kept gazing at her. "Do you miss Mom too?" he asked.

She gave him a sad smile and reached and cupped his cheek. "Yea, Eth," she said. "I miss Camille."

"Why?" Ethan asked. "Why are you and Dad missing her so much today?"

She pushed at his messy hair. It'd been messy all dinner. Hank having let him put a beanie on for the trip over to the restaurant – or more likely Hank had pulled it on himself. But it was just a disaster. Matted and on-end at the same time. So unkempt. But so little boy and so Ethan.

"I don't know, Eth," she said. "Likely because dinner at Constantine's was something we did as a family. Once a year. For your dad's birthday. So it was special. And I think it was a bit of a tradition your mom started."

"But why's that making you miss her so much?" he asked.

Erin let out a slow breath and tried to figure out a way to answer for him. "Well … you know how we've talked about how my mom … Bunny … wasn't a very good mom?"

"Yea …" Ethan acknowledged.

"So until I met your dad … everything … my whole life was Bunny. You know? When she was sober. When she wasn't," Erin said and somehow saying it out loud made her sadder. Made the fact that Camille hadn't been with them for dinner that might seem so much starker. "So I didn't know that moms could be kind. Or brave. Or unselfish."

And that made her sad too. That acknowledgement. And she had to look away from her baby brother for a moment. His questioning eyes – Camille's eyes, Hank said more times than not – gazing at her in their fatigued effort to understand as the drugs started to work through his weakened body.

Erin let out a bit of a laugh though and looked back at him, giving him a thin smile. "You know, your mom didn't even like me when your dad first brought me home," she nervously tittered at the memory.

"Yes, she did," Ethan said so instantly she almost sputtered like it might've been Camille speaking through him. Defending herself and assuring her that that wasn't how it was. "She loved you."

Erin gave him a sad smile and reached and tucked the blankets up around him. "She did. Eventually," she agreed. "But you know how your dad sometimes is? How he can strong-arm things? And, I don't think your mom got a whole lot of say in the decision that I was going to come home. She already had her hands full. Her job. And your dad was doing a lot more undercover then. He wasn't home a lot. So she was stuck dealing with Justin and then I showed up and just doubled her trouble. We were hellions," she said and gave Ethan a little poke in the ribs. He smiled at her.

"Tell a story about her," Ethan said quietly. "You didn't tell any tonight."

"Mmm …" she acknowledged and rose from where she was still crouching next to his bed and set on the edge of it, looking at him for a moment.

Hank said that Ethan was a gift – and a responsibility – that Camille left. Sometimes she didn't know if he meant for him – or for all of them. In a lot of ways Ethan felt like both those things to her too. And, she really felt like she needed to live up to Camille's memory – to honor the sacrifices she'd made in her life, her family's life – by being there for Ethan now. For always.

"I remember this one day …" she said, gazing at the floor for a moment as she got lost in the memory. "It was maybe … three … four months after I'd moved in with you guys. I came home from school. Iron Maiden tshirt, my skirt rolled up to here," she added cutting at her thigh and giving Ethan a smile. His eyes laughed at that and she poked at him. "Yea, you know that rule about rolling the kilts at St. Iggy's?" He nodded. "Pretty sure that one got implemented because of me." The smile tugged at his lips more and she just reached and tucked the blankets around him a bit more tightly, catching his eyes more while she finished her story. "But your mom was waiting for me that day in the living room. She has this dress. From Marshall Field's," Erin told him, holding up the imaginary hanger.

"Dad likes when you wear dresses," Ethan told her.

Erin gave him a little smile. "I know, he does."

"You look pretty in them," he said and gave her a nervous glance at his compliment but she just gave him a little poke again.

"What's that mean about how I usually look?" she teased.

He squirmed a bit under her tickle. "Like you," he said, trying to get away from her teasing eyes and fingers.

"Mmm …" she allowed and let her hands fall away so he'd settle again. "Well, before that, I hadn't ever really had a dress. And Marshall Field's, Ethan. That's not a place where your mom and dad would normally be able to afford to shop. It was special. And your mom tells me, that Daddy saw something in me that was worth sacrificing for, so she would too. And she'd used Christmas money to buy me that dress."

She felt her voice crack a bit as she said it and she looked away, just leaving her hand, patting lightly against Ethan's belly. She felt his hand come up and rest on top of hers and she looked at him with the watery eyes she was trying to hide and gave him a thin smile and gripped at his cold hand.

"I know you and Dad make lots of sacrifices for me too …" he said quietly.

Erin gave him a little smile and a shrug. "Well, we see something in you too, Eth. You're worth it."

There was a clatter of nails across the hardwood and Erin looked to see Bear scurrying into the room. She gave the puppy a little smile as he struggled with keeping his hurried footing on the smoothed floor and his effort to leap up to the bed, which is still too high for his little legs. She reached and helped him and he quickly found his way to Ethan, licking at his face, which just got some much needed smiles out of the boy. She smiled too as she watched them and swiped to get rid of the watering that had happened in her eyes then reached to help Ethan stroke at the dog in an effort to calm him down.

As the puppy did circles and managed to find a spot he was ready to cuddle into the bed next to his master, Erin again smoothed the blankets around her brother.

"Go to sleep," she said gently. She moved to get up but as she did, Ethan reached out and grabbed her hand.

"Erin," he near whispered. "Big sisters are good at being kind and brave and unselfish too. Not just moms."

She gave him a sad smile as the comment hit her and threatened to bring back the tears again. Instead she just stroked her thumb down his forehead.

"And I can come and help you pick your wedding dress so you don't have to be sad about Mom not being able to help. I can give you Christmas money to help buy it too."

Her eyes watered a bit more but she just leaned forward and put a light kiss on his forehead.

"I'd like you to help with the wedding a lot, Eth," she said. "And little brothers can be pretty kind and brave and unselfish too." He gave her a weak smile and so she just patted his belly again. "I love you," she assured him.

That was the whole thing with her family. She loved them. And even now that was such a confusing feeling for her. To have that love from those people. To love them so intensely back. To know she had the love – and loved – those of them who weren't there anymore. And the responsibility she felt to all of that. And how undeserving she still felt in all of it. But how she'd never give it up and wouldn't trade it. Not for the world.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: So I know some people are finding it confusing that I'm jumping around chapters/scenes. I'd just like to remind people that even though this is a sequential story right now, it really is just supposed to be scenes — not a beginning/middle/end plot.**

 **To try to make it less confusing — I'm going to reorder them immediately on posting. I don't know that's going to help since now the last chapter appearing isn't always going to be the most updated. So people who aren't subscribers might have trouble locating which chapter is new.**

 **But I'm about to get into starting to jump a bit more into the future with things so ordering them and what not is just going to get tiresome for everyone.**

 **The other option that a few people have suggested is that I not post until I have a bulk of chapters all happening together and then order them immediately. OK. I could do that but it means that you won't be getting updates as regularly.**

 **Right now I'm just kind of writing a chapter or scene as something inspires me.**

 **Not really sure of a way to resolve this that suits everyone. There isn't. If anyone has any thought or suggestions — PM them. Otherwise, I'm pretty much just going to keep putting an author note at the top indicating where this chapter takes place. The chapters were previously being reordered at the 24 hour mark or so. That was to let people see what had been updated without having to search for it. But I'll try reordering immediately and see how people feel about that.**


	41. To Owen

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Not sure where this one might get moved eventually. Might just leave it here or might end up bumping it up to before Hank's birthday dinner.**

Jay mounted the stool across from his brother at the high tables lining the back wall in Molly's. Will had been texting him since about 4 p.m. that afternoon – just endlessly. Seemed like after he'd gotten off shift it'd only increased. No call. Just text after text after text. And he wasn't picking up his phone either. He was starting to freak him out a bit. Will had a tendency to go off the deep-end at times. Make really shitty, spur of the moment decisions that didn't just change the direction of his life but usally ran a fucking battering ram through those around him.

So when the day had finally fucking wrapped at work – rather than going and crashing with whatever the fuck was on PBS that night – he was here at Molly's when his whole body was just screaming exhaustion. Will had his back to him when he'd entered the bar. So he hadn't been able to get a read on him as he came up and took his seat. No having a read on him was likely better because the guy had that look on his face now. Wind knocked out of him.

"What's going on?" Jay put to him when Will didn't immediately acknowledge him.

Will finally looked up from his intense examination of the two shot glasses in front of him. He nudged one across the table. "Took you long enough," he muttered.

Jay let out an annoyed sound and glanced around the bar. It was fucking packed that night. But it seemed like it was more than not anymore. The place had found a foothold in the community and word of mouth had ended up dragging more and more of the first responder community into it. It was a decent place for when you wanted to catch up with those types. But sometimes you just needed a break from all that shit. Jay had other places he'd rather drink. Somewhere where he could have his beer and watch the game and not have everyone knowing his business or wanting to talk shop.

"I've got work too, Will," he muttered at him.

Will just grunted. "Right … saving the city."

Jay hated when he said that. It was his line. It was supposed to be a tease. But something about the way he said it was like nails on a chalkboard to Jay. Some way of just slightly differentiating between the value of their two jobs. Being a cop - not nearly as prestigious as being a doctor. Not nearly as important.

Being a doctor and being a cop – a solider – they both required a certain chip on your shoulder. An ego. But different kinds. And him and Will were definitely those different kinds. They were from a different mould. They always had been. Same but different. Supposed that's what having a sibling was. Tossing in the same genetics pool and mixing it up and seeing what came up. It was a rather fucked up process.

"Got that for you," Will said, nodding at the shot again. "Been waiting."

Jay glanced at it. He knew there was a catch. But as much as he could see that something was eating his brother, he also just wasn't in the headspace to deal with Will's bullshit that night. So if he needed to have this drink so he could go home – he'd have the drink.

As he reached to take it, Will lifted his own. "To Owen," he said firmly.

Jay gave him a look but allowed, "To Owen …" and they both shot it back. Will went back to gazing into the empty glass as soon as it returned to the table.

"OK …" Jay said. "I'll bite. Who's Owen?" Will just shrugged and Jay sighed. "Will, I'm too fucking tired to be all brotherly with my concern tonight. You tell me what's going on or I'm heading home to watch the end of the Hawks game." Will just gave him a glance. "You lose a patient?" he guessed.

"Two, actually," Will muttered.

Jay sat back against the high stool at that and let out a sigh. "Sorry, man …"

Will gave a little shrug that Jay totally didn't buy. His brother constantly beat himself up over everything that went south in Emerg. He fully admitted that he'd never been told about how hard it would be to lose patients. Especially as regularly as it happened in ED. They didn't train you in that. They hardly talked to you about that. And Will had spent his early career being a plastic surgeon. Dealing with rich men's wives. Just the kind of women – and the kind of men – that spending a lifetime around their father would've normalized. A lucrative business rather than seeing the wider sweeping opportunities in medicine. Could you really do medicine if you didn't care about people? If you just cared about the fucking pay check? Jay supposed some people did. But he knew that wasn't Will.

Even if Will had spent his early career injecting silicon into plastic bitches – doing boob jobs. He'd looked elsewhere. For more meaning. He'd taken his plastic surgeon skills to help the less fortunate. To work in fucking Africa. With children. But he'd been lured back to New York City by the money – and the women. Again – two things their dad had taught them about. How growing up living a lie had influenced them.

But his brother had known it wasn't him. Maybe it was fun. But it was so fucking empty. And he was supposed to be bettering himself now. Getting on track. Doing something with his medical career. Something important. But that was a whole lot of responsibility for a guy who'd mostly dodged it in his life. He was on a bit of a crash course with it all. He was constantly getting down on his decision-making. Constantly trying to outdo others rather than learning from them. Always trying to be the best and brightest. Like he had something to prove – rather than something to contribute.

The guy was likely going to drive himself into a depression if he didn't figure out a better way to deal with it all better than some of the fucking confrontations he seemed to have with some of the other docs on staff. Let his insecurity show even more.

"Owen's not one of them," he muttered.

Jay let out another sigh – this one annoyed and put his elbows back on the table. "OK. Last chance. I'm biting. Who's Owen?"

Will looked at him again. "Natalie's baby."

Jay's eyes widened a bit. "She had the baby?"

His brother just shrug. Somehow trying to downplay it. Again. Like it wasn't important. Wasn't a big deal. Wasn't eating at him. When the guy had spent the last months being anxious about it and his friendship with Dr. Manning. Trying to sort it all out. Clearly he hadn't yet and now he was trying to be all nonchalant about it. And somehow that just pissed Jay off more.

"Yea. Today. During my shift," Will muttered.

"How's she doing?" Jay put back to him, though.

He hated that he was biting. Getting involved in this. This … bullshit that was just so Will. But he was starting to see where this was going – what it was actually about. And he knew that now it was at the point that someone need to fucking smack Will across the side of the head. Not that it worked so well when it was him. But sometimes it felt like he was the only one who bothered.

Will still talked to Dad sometimes. And it wasn't like dad talked any sense to him. But half the time it didn't seem like Will even saw all Dad's flaws. Or at least he saw way different ones than Jay saw and distributed the blame in other places. Places that Jay didn't think they should be going. Justification and clarification and classifications that Jay didn't think should be being made. But that was a completely different conversation and argument. One they locked horns on many times before. One they were just starting to resolve enough that they could be brothers again. Tight. Forgive each other enough to have each other's backs. To do this. To come to each other. To talk. To have a beer. But that didn't mean Will didn't still piss him the fuck off.

"Good," Will said. "She's doing really good. And, Owen … he's amazing. I mean, you should see him…"

Jay let out another breath and shook his head. "Will, don't do that."

"Do what?" his brother pushed back at him.

"You're putting Natalie – the baby – up on some unrealistic pedestal."

"That's not what I'm doing," Will pressed back.

"It's what you always do," Jay said. "'The most beautiful girl', 'the most amazing girl', 'you wouldn't believe this girl'. You always go after these women with unrealistic expectations. You pick completely unrealistic women to pursue in the first place."

Will gave him a look at that. Clearly unimpressed.

"You do," Jay stressed. "Then you develop these … unrealistic scenarios about this 'love' you have for them and do the all heartbroken thing when they suddenly are human beings – and not the glorified myth you'd created for them or the relationship."

"You go and get some psychology degree while I was away in New York and not tell me?" Will asked.

"Fuck off," Jay put to him bluntly. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Natalie's different," Will said.

Jay nodded. "Yeah, Will," he agreed. "She's fucking different. Because she's age appropriate. And she's smart and – yeah – she's beautiful. But she's also a widow and just had a baby. That is not a realistic women to be pursuing right now."

"You sound like her mother-in-law," Will muttered and gazed into his glass again. "She basically told me to stay the fuck away. That I wasn't welcome there during the labor. And the looks she gave me when I went to see Owen."

"Will," Jay blurted at him. "Natalie just gave birth to her grandson. Her dead son's child. That baby is a piece of her dead son. She doesn't want to see you there fawning over Natalie or the baby."

"She said I'm taking advantage of Natalie's vulnerability."

"You are," Jay hissed. "No one's said this to you yet?"

Will just looked at him with that fucking deer in headlights look he got about women. He fucking lived in a different universe when it came to women and relationships. A fucking player who wanted to be in love. And the sad part was that Jay knew it was because their father had completely fucked them up about relationships – and marriage – but Will didn't seem to have a clue that was what was going on. That that had impacted his psyche and attitudes about any of this stuff.

"People sure as fuck have been asking me what you are thinking," Jay told him.

"She's my friend," Will said. "My colleague."

"Oh," Jay nodded. "And do you usually call your friends and colleagues 'beautiful' and 'amazing'?"

"I like her," Will pressed. "Care about her."

"If that's true, you aren't going to do something dumbass to hurt her," Jay said. "Especially right now – with the new baby."

"It's been seven months," Will muttered under his breath.

Jay shook his head at him and gazed at the table. "Seven months isn't a long time, Will," he said quietly. "No human being will have grieved in seven months. Especially not a woman carrying the child of her dead husband. Who just gave birth to her husband's son."

"Dad—"

Jay's eyes bolted to him. "Will," he spat at him, "Dad was cheating on Mom before she was gone. He didn't mourn her at all. He didn't wait. Who, when, what, how he dated … whatever the fuck he did or wants to call it … is not normal. It's not what normal people grieving a loss do. It's not how you should be approaching this."

"You're always so hard on him," Will muttered and reached to retrieve his beer that was also almost gone while gazing around the bar to try to get service – more drinks.

"He cheated on Mom," Jay stressed firmly again. "She was dying – and Dad was fucking around. That's not a man, Will. That's not who you fucking want to be."

"The marriage was over …" Will muttered.

"Maybe if the marriage was over, he should've freed Mom … all of us … from the bullshit and just left. Let us go," Jay said. "Rather than make us live a lie. Be his fucking façade."

Will just shook his head at him. "Things weren't as bad as you make them sound."

"Whatever…" Jay mumbled.

It was such a fucking useless conversation with Will. Sometimes he wondered how they'd grown up in the same household and ended up with such different perspectives on the entire experience. But Jay supposed being the elder son – the favored child – had given Will some leeway that he hadn't gotten. Yet, nowadays it always seemed to mean that he was playing the role of older brother for Will. He was the one who'd had to grow up and take care of things after Mom got sick. To try to make the situation better, easier … something for her. And Will just got to keep on partying.

Jay sighed and shook his head. "Just be careful," he said. "She's going to want help – a friend now. You're going to hurt her if you just disappear and you've got to work with her."

"I know that," Will rolled his eyes.

"You know you've got that kid to think of now too, right, Will? Owen? Don't make shit confusing for him too."

"He's a baby," Will said. "He doesn't have a clue."

"You just said he's amazing. That I should see him," Jay pressed back at him. "If you really feel that way about him – it doesn't matter that he's a baby, you'll make sure you don't fuck things up for him too. Because if you hurt his mom, that hurts him."

Will gazed at him, taking a slow drink from his beer. "What's it like being with a woman with a kid?"

"Ethan's not Erin's kid," Jay said flatly.

"Close enough," Will said.

Jay sighed and sat back in his chair again. "The answer I've got isn't likely the answer you want to hear," he said. But Will just shrugged at him. "It's hard, Will," Jay said. "The relationship isn't always going to come first. You aren't the fucking center of her attention. The kid is going to crash things a lot."

Will just grunted and looked off in the opposite direction at some seemingly far-off corner of the bar.

"And I'm pretty fucking aware all the time that if me and Erin implode, it's going to have not just an impact on work – but on that kid. And, if things do work out the way they're supposed to, Ethan's got a progressive chronic illness – he's not going anywhere. If anything, as he gets sicker and Voight gets older, Ethan's a bigger part of our lives than he already is. It's not some scenario to put on a pedestal. It's a big commitment with a whole lot of repercussions for all sorts of people if we fuck up, Will."

"And yet you went all in," he muttered at him.

"Yea," Jay nodded and leaned forward to get his eyes. "I did. Because Erin is 'awesome' and 'beautiful' and a 'great friend and colleague' and I care about her a lot. All those words you like to use, Will. But I fucking mean them. And I mean them knowing that Erin also has a whole lot of fucking baggage above and beyond having a little brother who's going to need her for the rest of her life. But Ethan is an amazing kid – just like Owen – and he doesn't deserve to get fucked around. And, I love Erin because of her baggage – not just despite of it."

Will just made a grunting noise at that and tipped his drink into his mouth again. But Jay rolled his eyes.

"I get sick of being the big brother in this relationship, Will," he said as he rose from his stool. "I'm not the older brother. This is the kind of shit that I'm supposed to be coming to you about."

"Sit down," Will said and gestured across the table with a touch of annoyance.

But Jay just shook his head. "You always take off when things get complicated, Will," Jay said. "It's your M.O. You should've known this – Natalie, the baby – it was going to get complicated and it was going to get complicated quickly. You should've walked into it with your eyes open and your head and your heart in the right place. You're a good guy. You aren't Dad. And you're supposed to be back in Chicago to get fucking real about being an adult."

"OK," Will said. "Enough. I heard you."

"I don't think you fucking do, Will," Jay said. "We've talked about this shit so many times about so many other women. Only this one is different – it's not just about her and it's not just about a relationship. This is your job. It's you being here. You being part of my life again. Having a life in this city. Us being family. And if you're thinking about tucking tail and leaving—"

Will shot him a look. "I was just … frustrated about what the monster-in-law said to me," he said. "I was looking to vent. Looking for advice on how to deal."

"OK," Jay glared. "To start. Don't call her a monster-in-law. That's her grandson. That's some soldier's kid, Will. Some guy who went out there and died. And that woman has every right to be concerned about her grandkid and to want to protect him. And, you know, you should've already thought long and hard about half the stuff she said to you. Everyone else was."

"One of you could've said something," Will put back to him.

Jay just shook his head and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair. "You're a man, Will. A grown-up. Act like one."

"C'mon," Will groaned at him. "Sit down. We'll talk about something else. No hard feelings."

But Jay shook his head at him again and looked at the door. "You know, Will, anymore about … let's say at least seventy-five percent of the time … I'd prefer to be anywhere but on my ass in Molly's in my free-time. I want to be somewhere where I can watch the game. Sit with Erin and watch some stupid shit documentary. Or fucking help Erin and Voight drag Ethan through that day's math homework. All of that sounds a whole lot better than here. And, if you really feel these things you're saying about Natalie and Owen – where you should be sitting right now is Natalie's room at Chicago Med, not giving a shit about what her mother-in-law thinks about you being there. Showing her that she's fucking wrong about you. And proving to Natalie and Owen that you care about them and you have their backs – whether or not you're getting into her pants. Because that's what real friends and colleagues do. And maybe if you really try being her real friend, Will, you might find you finally get to have a real relationship eventually."

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Chapter 40 - Stories and Chapter 37 - Tough Questions have also been posted in the last 24 hours. Please check them out. They're new.**


	42. Mentorship

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Not sure where this one might get moved eventually. Might just leave it here or might end up bumping it up.**

 **CHAPTERS 37, 40, 41 have all been posted in the past 24 hours and a lot of people missed them based on counts. 37 - Tough Questions - Erin/Hank/Jay, 40 - Stories - Ethan/Erin, 41 - To Owen - Jay/Will.**

"Ah … Sir?" Mouse stuttered, loitering in Voight's office door. "This a better time?"

Voight looked up from whatever paperwork he was still going on. It was way after quitting time and the guy was still there and Mouse had been hanging back trying to grab him on his way out since he'd gotten his head bit off when he'd tried to talk to him earlier in a seeming lull. But it was starting to look like maybe the guy wasn't heading home that night. But it'd been a bit of a banger of a case they were getting wrapped. Supposed there would be a whole lot of paperwork with it all. Seemed like even the ease ones to get open and shut involved more paper-pushing than legwork some days. Thankfully he didn't have to do a lot of that stuff – beyond dealing with signing in and out of equipment and dealing with certain like requisition requests and providing some lines of justification to the other guys for when they were putting in for warrants and stuff.

"Yea," Voight allowed and waved him into the door.

Mouse stepped inside, taking an easy stance in front of his desk. At attention. Hands behind his back. But Voight just eyed him for a second and pointed at the chair.

"Sit down," he grunted and spun his desk chair to retrieve the bulking binder Mouse had at least managed to hand him earlier in the day before he'd been told to get the hell out. He dropped it heavily on the desk. "So give me the run down."

Mouse knew he shouldn't be so nervous around the guy anymore. He'd been around long enough. He was pretty secure in his position. But at the same time he knew he wasn't. Voight carried all the pull and could make a decision on a dime about if you were in or out. Mouse sure as fuck didn't want to be on the outs. He liked the gig. He liked what it'd done for his life. And he'd promised Jay he wasn't going to screw this up.

He hadn't really realized when he'd promised that that it was going to include doing stuff like this. Like he'd kinda done some sort of questionable things over the last year considering he was working for the police. But he sort of got that was Voight and Intelligence. Or as Jay put it, 'We're a specialized unit.' Mouse could appreciate that. Like the Rangers. Specialized. You just did shit that you didn't talk about outside of work because it was what it was and it was what you did.

And, he was starting to appreciate that was just how Voight worked. Mouse thought he was starting to get him. Slowly. The guy was kind of an onion. A whole lot of fucking layers there. But that was everyone in Intelligence he seemed. Except maybe like Ruzek. He seemed pretty transparent. Not a whole lot of interesting history there. But the rest of them? Everyone in the place was kinda fucked up in their own way.

Still, getting asked to do this was sending Mouse way out of his comfort zone. But he was trying to tell himself that Jay approaching him about the gig in Intelligence had been out of his comfort zone and it'd worked out good. So maybe this would too? Though, Mouse wasn't so sure about that just yet.

Honestly, he'd been kind of fucking overwhelmed at the whole 'mentors' meeting he'd had to go to for Ethan's robotics thing. Like it was intense. Really fucking intense. And he'd fucking dropped into war zones before. But these guys? They were way too serious about this whole robotics thing. You'd think they had the kids going through some sort of training camp for NASA or something. It was kinda crazy – and Mouse knew a whole lot of something about crazy.

It'd only gotten worse when they'd had their first meeting with the kids. Like these were so the kind of kids he would've avoided in school. Fuck – the whole school was the kinda place he would've kept well enough away from. And there he was sitting in the middle of it. He felt like a total impostor. And Ethan looked just as out of place as him. Mouse didn't think the poor kid had had a clue about what he was getting into either. A whole different level of cray-cray, that's for sure.

"Umm … well … those are like the rules and regulations," Mouse said and gestured at the binder. Voight lifted the cover and paged through a couple pages, grunting some acknowledgement and running his tongue along the inside of his cheeks in that way that seriously made the guy look like he was some sort of anaconda that was about to swallow you whole. "It's pretty complicated …"

Voight glanced at him. "Where's Ethan going to fit into all of this?" he asked, running his fingers through the page.

"Ah … well … that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about," Mouse stuttered a bit. "Like … Ethan's going to have to put some real thought into … what he wants to get out of this season. And … I wasn't sure how much he was … absorbing at the first meeting. He kind of looked like a deer in headlights …" Mouse offered cautiously but Voight just grunted again at that. "But there was a lot of shock and awe kinda going on at the thing. Like it was pretty in your face, Sarge."

Voight nodded and rocked back in his chair folding his hands. "Look, if this is your way of telling me the kid's gonna be riding the bench this season, that's fine. I still want him in there learning this shit and moving up over the next few years, if he keeps at it."

Mouse shook his head. "No, Sir. I think Ethan's going to get to participate. It's just … he needs to … have some realistic expectations about that and … think about where and how he can contribute the most. Because with him being a rookie and one of the younger kids—"

"They end up letting any other middle schoolers on the team?" Voight interrupted.

"Ah … I think there were a few Eighth Graders. Handful of freshman. But it sorta seem like most of the kids pick it up in their soph year and then the bulk of the team is Juniors and Seniors."

"Mmm …" Voight grunted. "So he's the only Seventh Grader?"

"Yes, Sir …" Mouse offered nervously. Somehow it felt like it was the wrong answer to be giving even if it was the honest one. "Umm … may I, Sir?" he asked and gestured at the binder.

Voight just made a noise and waved at it. "And cut the 'sir' crap. This isn't work."

"Yes, Sir …" Mouse said again, meeting his eyes and seeing that tongue press in his cheek again. But it was habit. It seemed like what you were supposed to say to the guy. Even 'boss' and 'sergeant' didn't feel right a lot of the time. Hearing everyone else call him 'Hank' or even 'Voight' always sounded off to Mouse too. He just didn't think he'd reached that realm yet.

He pulled his chair closer to the desk and reached to pull the guidebook closer to him, paging through it until he found the page he wanted Voight to see initially.

"OK," Mouse pushed out as he tried to calm and organize his thoughts. Sometimes that still was so hard. It was getting better. Easier. But sometimes things still seemed to bounce all over the place and getting them to calm and go in that straight and narrow line to then be expressed in a way that made sense when they came out of his mouth was challenging. "So this league is really actually three kind of sports that feed into this point system to determine your rankings at the different competitions and how you progress."

Voight grunted and leaned forward a bit in his chair to look at the page Mouse had open.

"So like … the team basically subdivides into three teams that work on scoring points in like … their given sport. Those competitions."

"OK," Voight nodded, leaning forward a bit more and flipping to the next page.

"Yea, OK," Mouse nodded enthusiastically. "So they haven't subdivided the kids up yet. But they've been given a project they're supposed to have done for the first Saturday meeting – to like demonstrate their skills and to compete amongst each other. Help the mentors and coaches see where they might fit. But, you know, the kids also get some input about what team … sport ... they think they want to be on. But you know – their project should reflect that."

"Sure," Voight muttered and sat back in his chair again. "So what's he got to do for Saturday?"

"Ah … yeah …," Mouse sputtered again. "I think like first … maybe … you should kinda talk to Ethan about this whole expectation thing."

Voight shrugged. "He knows he's a rookie and he's there to learn. Told him to fully expect to ride the bench. Get gets some play time – great. If not … Kid's done ball since he was barely out of diapers. He knows how this goes."

"OK …," Mouse tried again and flipped to another page. "See, the thing is, Ethan has in his head that he wants to do this team," he tried to explain and tapped on the page. "Like this is the all out Robot Wars stuff," he added and looked at Voight expectantly but was getting a blank stare. "It's a T.V. show …" Still that look. "Ah … well … these robots are huge. Like six foot monsters. The kids spend basically the whole season building. They completely start from scratch. They'll basically only end up going to maybe like … qualifying competitions. It's more about the build and programming. And it's going to be nearly all Junior and Seniors who are like looking to go into robotics or engineering. Chasing scholarships. Like the group of kids gunning for this part of the team are super serious and super competitive. And, like, I'm sure Ethan could likely end up on that section of the team, if he really wants, but he probably will ride the bench. And you know, since he's young and he's not this … overly aggressive … personality … some of the older kids might sorta … push him out. Like there was a lot of … Alphas in that room. Like Alpha geeks. But …" Mouse shook his head.

"Mmm …" Voight grunted. "But he wants on this robot wars team?"

"Yeah," Mouse acknowledged. "But, Boss, I think he'd kinda learn a lot more and have a lot more fun if he put his name up for one of the other two games."

Voight made a noise and flipped through a couple more pages. "This Lego robots one?" he muttered.

"Well, yeah," Mouse said. "I kinda feel like he'd get to do the most in that section. Like … not a ton of kids are going to put that as their first choice and I definitely got the impression from the mentor meeting that the coaches are going to favor putting most of the younger guys in that group anyway. But, you know, in there he's gonna get to do everything. Design, build, program, drive. There's like fifteen events in the games and there's a bunch of meets the kids go out to. And the team totally neglected participating in this section of the competition last year so they didn't rack up any ranking points and they kind of see how they could've and how that would've had them setting better in the ladder at Nationals last year. So they're pretty enthusiastic about having a group of kids working on this section this time around."

Voight just grunted and looked at him. "Ethan's not too into Lego right now with the way his hands are working."

Mouse let out a little noise of his own. "Yeah … he'd kina expressed that."

Voight just smacked his lips at that – like a 'what are you going to do about it'. So Mouse sighed and leaned forward to flip to the next section of the binder. This was going to make his life a bit more difficult.

"So the last option is this Tech Challenge team. Which, you know, personally I feel is a better choice than the RoboWars group but it's going to be way harder for him than the Lego League. And he's going to be mixed in with the high school kids."

"My kid's up to the challenge," Voight put flatly.

Mouse made another little noise. "OK, well, basically, in this one the team is building two smaller robots. Like a similar size to what he's been doing with that circuitry kit he's got. And the teams get even like a complete set of parts so they aren't having to make or pre-fab too much on their own unless they want to. They're actually given schematics and a programming manual so they should be able to have their first prototype built in like … three days. This is the group that goes out to a whole lot of the local events. Lots of matches. Starts racking up points for the whole team. And, you know, as they see the different courses and scenarios they're remodeling their robot and bringing back intel and design tips for the RoboWars team too. Because basically the smaller scale Lego League and Tech Challenge courses that the other sections play feed into what the big reveal will be for the field for the mega robot course. Basically all we know right now is the theme for it – stronghold. And that the Tech kids course is mountain rescue inspired and that the Lego League kids course is waste management inspired."

"Mmm …" Voight shrugged. "OK. So tell Ethan to put his name down for the tech one."

Mouse set back in his chair and bit and eyed him. "Ah … well … I think that might be better coming from you, Sir … Sergeant … Sir," he sputtered.

Voight just eyed him again and rocked back more in his chair, folding his hands. "Mouse, I'm not one of those parents who coaches from the sidelines. Wasn't with any of the kids in their sports. Not going to be with this. I let the coaches do their job. Trust their judgment on what's best for developing my kid and what's best for the team. Your one of the coaches. You tell him this stuff, not me."

Mouse just did his own deer in headlights look at the guy. Trying to process it and figure out a way to dispute it but he couldn't really come up with anything.

"Umm … maybe you could talk to him about … like … what 'position' he's going to play then?" Mouse tried.

"What do you mean?" Voight huffed with some clear annoyance.

"Well … like … if Ethan's going to be on the Tech team, he's going to have to decide if he's more into designing or building or programming. And I know he's good at the whole building aspect and like … seeing the wiring and stuff and would probably learn a lot. But I'm technically going to be assigned as a programming mentor so if he moved into the programming side of things, it'd be kind of easier for me to be … watching out for him."

"Greg," Voight said more firmly. "You don't need to be watching out for him. The school just needed more mentors for this team my kid wanted to be on to make a go of it this year. I thought you'd be a decent fit. You don't need to be connect at my kid's hip. And, again, E's played ball. He's done the team thing before. He's had coaches move him around and try him out in positions that he might not have had a whole lot of interest in. He understands how that goes. So if you and the coaching staff thing he should be in a programming slot then try him out there," Voight shrugged. "You think he's a better fit in design – then put him there. I really don't care. This ain't my wheelhouse. I just want my kid in there having a chance to learn some of this stuff and to be socializing with other kids and out of the fucking house."

Mouse just gazed at him. His mind fighting to process all that again. But all he managed to get out was, "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir," and pull himself out of the chair.

"You didn't tell me what he's supposed to have done for the Saturday meeting," Voight put to him before he could leave.

"Oh …," Mouse sputtered and looked back to him again. "He's got to make a robot that is able to complete as many of the tasks listed on page twenty-three through twenty-five as possible. With the Mindstroms stuff. Umm … if he doesn't have that kit at home, there's set in the school labs he can use after school."

Voight gave a little nod. "Mindstorms?" he asked and Mouse gave a small nod. "I'll look into getting him a kit."

"It's pretty expensive," Mouse warned nervously. "And … Sergeant … I don't really know what the whole … money situation is … but Ethan's really going to benefit from having a tablet and a phone with Android in all of this. Especially if he ends up with the programming kids or as one of the drivers on game days."

Voight just made a noise and allowed him a little nod so he took it as his cue to leave – quickly heading for the door.

"They treating you alright?" he asked, though, before he could make his escape.

Mouse turned around. "Yes, Sir," he allowed. Though he wasn't sure it was true. It wasn't like anyone had treated him badly but he definitely felt out of place. Like he shouldn't be there and like everyone else in the room was sort of thinking he shouldn't be there too. But he was used to feeling that way. And he was getting used to having to prove himself.

"Hmm …" Voight grunted. "You can let me know if that changes."

"Yes, Sir," Mouse acknowledged.

But he didn't think he would. He knew how to fight his own battles. Or at least to take care of himself as best he could. And when he couldn't he knew what friends he could get help from. There weren't many but he wasn't sure Voight was on that list – even if it was Voight who'd kind of given him a chance. It was sort of a confusing relationship that he wasn't really sure how to interact with yet. He tried to take Jay's lead in all of it.

He turned to leave again but before he could, Voight again spoke – the chair creaking back under his weight.

"You know I used to be knee-deep in Gangs, right?" he asked.

Mouse found his eyes. "Yes, Sir," he provided.

Voight grunted and allowed a little nod. "Hard job. This job," he said and gestured around the desk absently. "Every unit – hard in its own way. But in Gangs even with the bullshit and the dirtbags there, something that kept me going in it was getting to work with the kids. Can't save them all. Maybe you can't even save that many. But kids – that age – you can affect change. That means something. You know?"

Mouse just gazed at him. "Yes, Sir," he allowed again.

Voight gave him a little nod. "Life of service. I know you know what that means. But it applies to this job too. You're serving the city and that's not something that just happens when you're inside these walls. OK?"

"Yes, Sir," Mouse acknowledged.

"I know a lot of the kids in that school look all bright and shiny in their uniform. Spoiled, rich brats. But St. Ignatius takes kids from rough backgrounds too. It gives them a chance. They've just got them dressed up the same as the rest of the kids. And even the kids in that room that might be from that doctor's or lawyer's home – it doesn't mean they've got a good home life. And them interacting with real, stable, professional adults in that club – that's something that's going to mean a whole lot in their lives too."

Mouse let out a little sigh and looked down at his feet a little embarrassed that something he must've said or done must've portrayed his feelings about that school and being in there with those kids. "Yes, Sir," he acknowledged.

Voight just grunted and closed the binder, holding it out at him. "I don't need this," he said.

Mouse nodded and stepped forward to take it, his hand wrapping around it. But Voight didn't let go and he caught his eyes again.

"How old are your nephews?"

"Eight and ten," he said quietly.

Voight gave him a thin-lipped smile – or an almost smile. Did serpents smile? He let go of the binder and Mouse clutched at the weight. "Their pops around?"

"No, Sir," he provided even more quietly.

Voight grunted. "And you said your folks don't live in town?" Mouse just shook his head. "Where they at?"

"Ah …" Mouse struggled and looked away. "Mom's … gone. And my dad …" he just shrugged. There wasn't much worth saying about any of it. There wasn't anything he wanted to say to his boss about any of it either.

But Voight just nodded and pulled his paperwork he'd been working on back in front of him. "You should take your nephews into Ignatius for one of the weekend meetings," he said without looking at him. "See what they think," and then his eyes came up to meet his. "Knowing people in this city. Some network, socializing … mentoring … it can go along way in creating opportunities – strings to pull – for other people in your life."

Mouse gazed at him again but then managed a little nod. "Yes, Sir."

 **CHAPTERS 37, 40, 41 have all been posted in the past 24 hours and a lot of people missed them based on counts. 37 - Tough Questions - Erin/Hank/Jay, 40 - Stories - Ethan/Erin, 41 - To Owen - Jay/Will.**


	43. Tactical Combat

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Not sure where this one might get moved eventually. Might just leave it here or might end up bumping it up.**

 **CHAPTERS 37, 40, 41, 42 have all been posted in the past 24 hours and a lot of people missed them based on counts. 37 - Tough Questions - Erin/Hank/Jay, 40 - Stories - Ethan/Erin, 41 - To Owen - Jay/Will, 42 - Mentoring - Hank/Mouse.**

Jay came over and leaned against the old school arcade game that Ethan was planning in the lobby of the laser tag facility. He glanced at the screen and watched for a few moments and then looked at Erin's somewhat bored examination of the screen too.

"So the woman at the desk needs one of us to sign our 'son's' liability waiver," he put to her.

Erin let out a little snort and found his eyes, giving him a thin smile. "That really the first time you've heard that?"

She was a little surprised that it was. They'd spent enough time hanging around together – and with Ethan – over the past six or seven months – she thought some misguided waitress or museum attendant or whatever would've uttered it by now. She sort of figured he just hadn't bothered to mention it to her – because he really didn't care. But based on the look on his face, he did care and it'd bothered him.

Jay made a sound and went back to looking at the screen, watching Ethan play.

"Well, I've been getting it since I was seventeen," Erin said. "Along with all the dirty looks that go along with the assumption that you're an unwed, teenaged mother."

"It's bullshit," Jay muttered at her. "He's your little brother."

Erin shrugged. She agreed. It was bullshit. She'd hated it. It'd bothered her when she was still a teenager – still at home. If she was out helping Camille Hank – in the grocery store or mall and holding Ethan or pushing him in the park or stroller. Some of the looks she'd get. The whispers she'd hear. It was even worse if she took him down to the park space at the end of their block to give him some time outside and give Camille some quiet time in the house. Then she was alone with him and the assumptions people were making were even more clear. The things other moms or sitters would say to her out there while Ethan was on the playground or in the sandbox or trying to play with the other toddlers.

It made her mad. Like she somehow looked like the kind of girl who would obviously be a teenaged mother. When ending up in that kind of scenario was one of the things she'd so desperately tried to avoid. When coming to live with Hank and Camille was a way to get her out of an environment where she might've ended up as some sort of junkie, whore, young mother, alone and negligent and probably just as bad as Bunny. But she was supposed to have escaped that. To be living in a situation where she was just a typical urban high school kid – a prep school kid – in a nice little nuclear family. People weren't supposed to think Ethan was hers. It bothered her and beyond barking at people and correcting their mistake – being as rude to them as they were being to her – there wasn't much she could do about it.

But somehow that seemed easier now than how she felt when people made the mistake now. Her teenaged insecurities about it were gone. Instead it just stung that people thought that when she knew Ethan's real mother – his good, kind, dedicated mother – was gone. And it somehow seemed to demean her memory every time people assumed that she was his mother. That she filled that role. A role she'd never wanted and one she hadn't tried to fill even though in a lot of ways she'd be thrust into it simply because she had a vagina and was older. Like somehow that qualified her to mother him. She knew she'd never mother him the way Camille had. That she'd never fill that void and people assuming that she did – or was – just seemed insulting to everyone. And that bothered her way more than the assumption she was a teenaged mother ever had.

"Well, people like to gossip and make assumptions," Erin mumbled. "And apparently we look alike."

"You don't look that much alike," Jay muttered.

Ethan glanced up. "Yes, we do," he provided. "People say so all the time."

Erin gestured at him. "There you go. From the horse's mouth."

And people did say it. All the time. Ethan was right. She thought it was strange too because Erin didn't think they looked that much alike. How alike could they look? They didn't share any genetics. Ethan's hair was way blonder than her light brown – even when she had highlights in it. Though, they both had light eyes – again Ethan's were far lighter and far more piercing than hers. And really – all she could see when she looked at her brother was Camille. Because Hank was right – his youngest did look like her. A lot. Hank was in him. In his stature and his jaw line and the cute little freckles Ethan had across his cheekbones and nose. But the nose, the ears, the eyes – even the way they sat on his face, their shape and size – it was all Camille. And that hair just did it in. He was definitely his mother's son. In so many ways.

"He looks like his dad," Jay mumbled. Apparently not wanting to see her in him – and not being familiar enough with Camille's photos to see her either.

"You mean you?" Erin pressed at him with a tease, knocking his shoulder. But he gave her an annoyed look. He clearly didn't like the assumption. That they could have a child together? Or that someone else's child was his? The concept of wild oats? Or the concept of Voight's seed? She wasn't sure. But his face said he didn't want to talk about it more in the moment.

"I'll sign the form," she said and held out her hand to retrieve it.

Jay just gestured off behind him with his head – back toward the front desk. "I left it up there. It's more complicated than I thought to pick the games."

"Picking the games it complicated?" Erin put to him sarcastically.

That sounded ridiculous. Especially since she'd been left with the impression that Jay was some sort of expert on laser tag and that he'd at least researched enough to find a place that offered discounts to cops and vets. You'd think any 'complications' would've been sorted out before they were standing in the lobby of the fucking place.

"Picking the games is complicated," he pressed back at her with a warning tone and leaned into Ethan's space again. "Eth, you sure you just want to do Tactical because they've got other types of games."

"Tactical," Ethan said firmly and pounded on the buttons.

The game was so old and dated that even Erin hardly recognized it but Ethan seemed absorbed. He'd actually already noted there were several other games in the lobby – including the air hockey – that he wanted to play. So Erin got the impression they were going to be stuck at the place for a while. Definite boy time. But her presence had been requested. She didn't mind. She liked kicking the boys' asses. It was easy. Though, she hadn't been invited to play Double Dragon and she was pretty sure she could button-mash Ethan out of the park.

Jay let out a noise and looked at Erin. "The Tactical games are nearly two hours long," he put flatly.

She shrugged at him. Another thing he should've known when he was planning this and looking into what facility they were going to go to. And if there were other options that he thought were more appropriate – he shouldn't have made promises to Ethan only to start waffling on them in the fucking lobby. She wasn't going to be the one to break his heart or deal with a confrontation with a preteen. This was Jay's thing. His plans. He'd acted like he was the big man on offering up the afternoon and planning it – so let him deal with any of the fallout.

"He can handle running around in there for two hours?" Jay pressed with her shrug.

"Eth, can you handle running around in there for two hours?" she put to her brother, casting Jay annoyed eyes.

"Yes," he said flatly.

So Erin just shrugged at Jay and gestured at Eth. There was his answer. He was going to have to figure out how to deal with it.

Jay leaned into Ethan's space again, blocking the screen slightly and the kid leaned to the side a bit to try to see around him. "Could do two rounds of laser tag instead," he suggested. "Twenty minutes each. You'll get to take a break between rounds. Or they've got "

"I want to do tactical combat," Ethan said, casting him a squinted look.

"They've also got like some sort of light-maze game and an escape room. They're puzzle games. You like that kind of stuff. We could get a package and try them. Get you some breaks," he stressed again.

"Tactical," Ethan said even more firmly – this time with a touch of anger to his voice. Eth wasn't stupid. He clearly knew where this was going. That he'd been promised something and now it was about to be pulled away from him. And he wasn't going to let it go easily.

Jay looked pleadingly at Erin and she let out a little sigh, moving to lean against the opposite side of the arcade game. "Eth…" he put to him but he didn't even look at her. "Can you look at me."

"I still have lives," he muttered. He was clearly getting frustrated with them and the preteen attitude was starting to come out.

Erin leaned more into his space and he again groaned and tried to gaze around her.

"We need you to understand," she said sternly, "that in the tactical combat game they're going to strap you down with gear – not just the sensor vest. And the weapons are going to be similar weight to the real thing."

"I want the 9MM and the M4," Ethan provided firmly – giving her a dead serious look.

It was intense. But she had to smile. Maybe she shouldn't. But her baby brother was just listing off the weaponry he wanted and even though Hank was firm about not wanting the first-person shooter games in the house for Eth's game console, she thought he might be a little proud to know that the kid knew what he wanted when it came to this. The absolute certainty and firmness he had about it.

But she just nodded. "Exactly, Eth," she agreed. "We'll go into the armory. You're going to pick weapons and they aren't just going to be plastic laser toys."

"Good," Ethan hissed at her.

"OK," she said but raised an eyebrow in warning to him about his tone. "And they give you a mission that we'll have to try to complete – with other people who are playing the game. With your mobility, it might be hard for you to participate. Not like in laser tag where we could just find a spot to hid and shoot at people."

"I know," Ethan said and gazed at her. "I want to see," he said. "I want to learn. It's what you do and it's what Dad does." He looked back to his game and mashed at the buttons more. "And then you can tell Dad I'm good at it."

She looked at him in the slow processing of what this was really about for him. Why he was taking it so seriously and she just sighed and shook her head at Jay.

"We're doing tactical combat," she said flatly.

It was the only option. The right one. They were all just going to have to deal with it. They'd dealt with worse tactical situations. She was pretty sure they could get a crippled twelve-year-old through a fake one.

 **So the last two chapters I've posted have gotten zero feedback/comments and really low reader counts ...**

 **CHAPTERS 37, 40, 41, 42 have all been posted in the past 24 hours and a lot of people missed them based on counts. 37 - Tough Questions - Erin/Hank/Jay, 40 - Stories - Ethan/Erin, 41 - To Owen - Jay/Will, 42 - Mentoring - Hank/Mouse.**


	44. Spaz Out

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **AUTHOR NOTE: This chapter goes immediately after Tactical Combat — Chapter 43 — it will be reordered in about 24 hours.**

Erin let out a little sigh and pushed back in the driver's seat in the stopped unmarked car. She lifted her arm and stretched it across her body, lifting her opposite arm and looping it around it at her elbow to try to stretch out her shoulder – letting out a short exhale of relief.

Jay brought down the binoculars he seemed to be entertaining himself in gazing outside the window at the building up the street – where they hadn't seen anything resembling movement around for the past 90 minutes they'd been sitting there.

"Shoulder still bothering you?" he asked.

She gave a little shrug, stretching the arm one more time with her knotted elbows and then letting it fall back into place, rotating it a few times for good measure.

"A little," she mumbled. He made a little amused noise at her and raised the binoculars back to his eyes. "That's funny?"

He brought the things down slightly again and gave her a little smirk. "A little," he admitted.

"A little?" she pressed at him with some annoyance.

"Yea, considering I know how you hurt it, it's kinda funny," he said.

"Some three hundred pound beast charging into me is funny?" she raised her eyebrow at him.

He made a condescending face at her. "You knew he was there," he pressed.

She shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Jay shook his head at her, giving her a smile. "Hmm," he allowed. "Seeing as the beast ended up on the floor with a bloody nose and Ms. Five-Five all of what? Maybe one-twenty? Standing over him. I'm pretty sure you knew he was there."

She shrugged. "I was standing around the corner."

"Hmm …" Jay nodded. "With Tactical training and an elbow up. At face level."

She just shrugged again, giving him a smile. "Not my fault he wasn't looking where he was going."

Jay just shook his head at her, giving his eyes a bit of a roll before moving to bring the binoculars back up. But she gave him a sterner look at that.

"That guy screamed at a kid who was all of maybe ten for not doing 'his part' in fucking laser tag," she said.

He gave her a glance. "Tactical Combat," he corrected with mock seriousness.

"And, he told Eth that his strategy was 'stupid'," she said even more sternly.

The fucking animal had been taking the whole thing waaaaay too seriously considering it a Saturday afternoon event. Clearly there were going to be kids there but this asshole was treating it like it was life-and-death – not a family weekend activity. Intense. When he also didn't look like he should be doing anything more intense than staying in his mother's basement playing Halo and eating Cheetos and soda by the ass-load. He actually seemed to be doing that there anyways.

Erin had seen him after the game out in the lobby – cotton balls shoved up his nose and trying to give her some sort of death stare that she was having none of - stocking up with junk at the vending machine – while she was lodging a complaint with the management that the assholes should be confident to special evening events dedicated to such assholes. She hadn't been the only one. The dad of the little boy who'd be all out screamed at by the guy was also waiting to express his distaste about 20-somethings with too much time on their hands – and an utter lack of a life – making the experience shittier for everyone. Weekend afternoons should be family oriented – not asshole oriented. Erin got the sense that it was something the woman at the desk had heard before but hadn't figured out how to rectify with their "regulars".

Jay shrugged. "I didn't say he didn't have it coming," he said. "I said you knew he was there and maybe you should've expected that kind of weight to jar your shoulder just a little bit."

"Fuck off," she said, stretching her shoulder out again and this time not being careful about how close her got her fist to his face on the passenger side. He just smiled and enclosed it with his hand before she could punch him in the face too. "It was fun, though," she offered.

Thankfully there'd been more people there to have a good time than there were the weirdo-losers. Though there'd definitely been a few of them too. She wasn't sure Ethan had entirely noticed. He was too into what he was doing. And he'd done good.

"It was fun," Jay agreed. "Though I find it slightly concerning that the activity Ethan was best at was the bank robbing simulation."

"He was really happy to tell Hank about that," she told him with a smile.

"Oh, I bet he loved hearing that," Jay in-toned.

"He did good at figuring out to disconnect the bomb too," she said.

Jay looked her dead in the eyes. "Also concerning," he said seriously.

She shrugged. "He's good at that sort of thing. Puzzles. Wires."

"Well, good thing that Voight's redirect that into fucking robots and a way from the whole robbing banks thing," Jay said.

She snorted and shook her head, gazing down the street for a minute too. This was a boring assignment. She knew that Hank expected them to come back with a big load of nothing too or else they wouldn't be riding together. This was make busy work. She was pretty sure they were made before they even got there. Someone had tipped them off. There was no one even at the house. But Hank wanted them to sit there until they got something, until it was clear they were made, or until their shift was over. So they were sitting. Twiddling their fucking thumbs.

"His first robot club thing … like game … is coming up," Erin muttered. Jay made a sound of acknowledgement. "So I should likely go." Another sound of acknowledgement but she glared at him. "So are you going to come?"

He pulled the binoculars back slightly and glanced at her. "Ahh … no," he said.

She glared at him a bit more. "He'll be disappointed if we don't show."

"No, he'll be disappointed if you and Voight don't show," Jay said. "I get a free pass. I am not on the necessary attendee list."

She gave him a look. "I am pretty sure you are on the necessary attendee list," she said.

Jay shook his head again. "Have you talked to Mouse about this Robotics Club thing? You think Beast Man on Saturday was bad. Some of these kids aren't going to be much better. Only imagine them as a group and their pet robots are being crushed but some other pet robot. You don't want to see a nerd meltdown. They aren't pretty."

She gave him a sarcastic look. "Sounds like they might need a police presence to manage the nerd preteens with robots," she said drily.

He shrugged. "Might not be a bad idea. But I'm not signing up for that OT. And - not his sibling. Not his dad. Don't need to be at the nerd spaz match."

She gave him a look. "Is that what this is about?" she said.

He kept gazing through the binoculars. "If by 'that', you mean a capacity to come up with evening or weekend plans that sound way better than RoboWars – than, yes. That's what this is about."

She just kept staring at him – drilling holes in him – shifting in her seat to do so. "That," she said firmly, "is that woman at laser tag calling you his dad."

She saw his brow furrow a bit at the mention of it again. "I'm not his dad," he said.

"Yea," Erin agreed. "And you seem pretty fucking bothered that someone mistook you as his dad."

Jay let out a noise and brought his binoculars down to meet her firm stare. "He has a dad," he said.

She nodded. "Yea," she agreed again. "But that doesn't seem like a reason to get this worked up about someone making that mistake."

"I'm not worked up," he said flatly.

She snorted and looked out the window for a moment, shaking her head. "Jay, I've known you long enough that I get the annoyed body language. You were pissed off when she said it and it's bothering you that I'm bring up now."

"It doesn't bother you when people assume you're his mom?" he put to her.

She shrugged and brought her eyes back to him. "Yea, it does. But I don't get this pissed about it. And I'm sure why it rubbed you the wrong way so much."

"Voight would be pissed if he knew people thought that," Jay said to her sternly.

She made another little noise and shook her head. "Jay, c'mon, he knows we take him out. He's seen people call me his 'mom'. He likely assumes people have made the assumption when we've had him out too. He was way more important shit to care about."

"But I'm not his dad," Jay put to her.

"And I'm not his mom but I got turn into some sort of rage machine when people assume I might be."

Jay just let out a sigh and shook his head, slumping against the door on the passenger side and bring his hand up to the scruff on his face while he gazed out the window.

"You know when he came back to Chicago, you told me not to try to be his older brother because he already had one …" he said quietly.

"Yea …" Erin shrugged.

She had said that to him. She wasn't really sure how well Jay had honored that request. But maybe she was glad he hadn't. Eth definitely felt Justin's absence. But she didn't think her or Hank were that sure about what kind of influence Justin was on Ethan. Ethan remembered – knew – the ways Justin had fucked up. Those weren't things they wanted him to emulate. Actions that he thought were acceptable as he approached his teens. And beyond that, it seemed like nearly every in-person interaction that Eth and Justin had together just resulted in upset or Ethan getting hurt. Neither Erin nor Hank wanted to deal with the fallout over and over again.

It seemed pretty natural that Eth had radiated to Jay as a positive male influence. An older male who wasn't his dad. Someone who was around. And, Erin thought he was a pretty decent person to emulate. And Jay didn't do much that upset Eth or made him feel pushed again. She hadn't exactly discouraged their interactions. She wasn't sure she'd exactly encouraged them either. But they'd just happened. Jay was a part of her life – he was a part of Hank's in a way too. It seemed like it would've taken a lot more effort to keep Eth from associating with him.

"Yea … well …," Jay muttered. "Somehow it just feels like now society just jumped right past the brother assumption and right onto 'must be his dad' thing. That's not cool."

She sighed. "Jay, that's just the way people are. I mean, at least we aren't teenagers and they're making the assumption. That sucked a lot more. We could technically have a kid Eth's age."

"Technically," Jay said, casting her a look, but he gestured out the windshield. "We're supposed to be on stakeout."

"I'm still watching," she said, giving another cursory glance of the area. "You could just take it as a compliment," she suggested. He gave her another glance. "That we're clearly killing it at the parenting thing. For people to make that assumption."

He gave her a little smile but look out the window again. "I don't know shit about being a dad," he said after a long silence – so long that she thought they'd ended the conversation and she'd been ready to let it drop.

"You've got daddy issues," Erin allowed flatly, gazing out her own window at the empty street.

"So do you," Jay said.

She gave an amused snort and gave him a sad little smile. "Yea, a few," she allowed.

"Voight's a good dad," he told her seriously with firm eyes, gesturing with his one finger. "For all the shit about him that I find questionable – that one I'll give him."

She gave him a more genuine smile. "I know."

"I don't think I know how to be that," he said flatly.

Her thin smile turned into even thinner lips and she let her hand snack across the console, finding where his was resting against his knee and hooking her pinky around his. He glanced down at the juncture and then looked at her eyes.

"I don't think I know how to be a good mom either," she said.

He gave her a sad look. "Erin, you're awesome with him," he sighed.

"And you are too," she put to him more firmly. "So … if … when … we'll figure it out."

"Yea …" he sighed and looked out the window again.

"Not like we need to figure it out any time soon," she said, shaking his hand a bit.

He made another noise and unhooked their fingers, reaching and scrubbing at his face, staring out the window for another moment. "I think it's this Will and Natalie and Owen thing that's bugging me."

Erin shrugged. "Because that's a weirdly uncomfortable situation," she said.

He turned at gazed at her. "He says her mother-in-law went from being super cold to being way too friendly. And now he's basically moving in on the whole … I don't know … adopted dad thing. It just … pisses me off. He's going to fuck it up so badly."

"Maybe he'll surprise you," Erin tried.

Jay just gave her a look that clearly said he didn't think there was a chance in hell of that. But he just made another noise and looked out the window. "He gives me crap, you know," he muttered. "Or gave. About us. And Eth. Like we treat him like our kid. I think that's why the comment bugged me on Saturday."

"I don't think we treat him like our kid," Erin countered.

"Yea … me neither," Jay muttered.

She shook his leg, though. "I do think you do do the big brother – soon to be big-brother-in-law – thing pretty good, though. So maybe you should come to the Robo Nerd Spaz Wars. Because he'll be disappointed if you aren't there. And so will Mouse."

He turned to give her a thin smile. "Yea …" he allowed. "I'll be there." He gazed out the window. "This is bullshit. You want to head back?"

But Erin shook her head. "Let's sit it out a bit longer," she said and hooked her pinky around his again.

It wasn't like they got a lot of alone time for these kinds of talks. Maybe if they sat a bit longer something else would come out of the woodwork – even if it wasn't at the house down the street.

 _ **AUTHOR NOTE: Let me know if you want a scene from Hank/Ethan's ice fishing getaway. Don't think I will do a scene from Erin's Valentine's feel like it was covered. Have some other ideas for scenes coming up but also thinking of doing some scenes that would be a few months in the future — around Erin's birthday and Ethan's robotics club matches. Advise how you feel about scenes that 'far ahead' being posted. Will consider the feedback.**_


	45. Fix This

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 44 - SPAZ OUT. It will be reordered later.**

Erin pulled her phone out of her pocket and sighed with annoyance but put it up to her ear. "What's wrong?" she demanded.

Her heard Justin huff into her ear just as annoyed sounding as she felt. "You could try hello," he hissed into her ear.

She shrugged and then pressed her ear to her shoulder to try to hold the thing in place, as she went back to working at scrapping Ethan's abundant dinner leftovers into a container that Hank was more likely to take into work the next day than her baby brother was to bother ever looking at again.

"Justin this is the second time I've heard from you since Christmas. The first time was to tell me you needed me to spot you on the hockey tickets – that were your idea in the first place," she grumbled at him.

"You're the one who said we should do something nice for him this year," he intoned at her with such fucking attitude.

And, yeah, she had said that. All three of them had put him through hell that year – and he'd done hell of a lot more for the three of them then a lot of fathers – even the good ones – would've done to make sure they landed on their feet. He'd taken care of them. He'd guided them. Looked out for them. Helped them out with money and necessities to get them back on the right paths. He'd given a ton of time when he never had a lot of time. And he'd done it all while dealing with the job and his own bills and responsibilities too. Without ever once making it seem like it was a big deal or more than they should expect of him. He just did it. And maybe that's what being a parent was about. Or a father. Or a man. At least the way Hank saw it. But the reality is that none of them ever thanked him enough or gave back to him in quite the same way. They probably never really would be able to repay him for all the love and support he'd given them over the years – and maybe that also was just how having a children and raising a family worked too. But Erin had still thought they could do something nice for him that year. Something a bit more than the usual shirt and book they put under the tree for him.

So, yeah – she'd said it. But it'd been Justin who'd started in on tickets to a game being the way to go. And she hadn't protested it. It'd been a reasonable idea. Something Hank would appreciate. Something they could do as a family – and he'd appreciate that more. It'd be more meaningful to him. But Erin had never thought – especially when Justin had seemed so on-board – that she'd be the one paying for the entire gift. That hadn't been part of the deal.

But, "whatever…" was all she mumbled back at Justin. Again. Because she really didn't feel like getting into it with him. He'd clearly missed the point of the gift. That it wasn't about Hank's fifty-fifth or them getting him to open his birthday present while J was home. It was about him consistently bending over backwards for his family – for his kids. Showing some appreciation for that. Showing him they wanted to spend time with him – as a family too. But maybe Justin had missed the point. Maybe he just thought it'd be a good time to get a game in while he was home. Sometimes it was hard to tell what was going on with him. Sometimes it seemed like he'd seen the light. Learned some things. Grown up. And then … well … it didn't.

"I'll pay you back," he said.

"Right …" she mumbled. She didn't really care. She could manage it. More or less. But what pissed her off was that it had seemed like a complete dick move. He was mad at her after Christmas so all of a sudden the money he owed her wasn't something he could afford. She didn't believe him. But she was also too annoyed with him at the time to bother arguing about it. And really – she still was. Stock it up to Justin being Justin. You often didn't get what you gave when it came to him.

A silence hung between them. So she just kept moving around the kitchen. Trying to get the clean up at least started – if not done before Hank came back down. So she could go and so he could have some downtime that evening too.

"You alone?" he finally asked.

"Yeah, I guess," she muttered.

"What's that mean?"

She rolled her eyes, and grabbed at the faucet to rinse of the plates before reaching to yank open the dishwasher door and shove them in there. Hank preferred that most dishes get done by hand. He didn't think that him and Eth were ever using enough of them to be running the dishwasher – which he also didn't like putting on until it was full. So he didn't like the dirty dishes sitting in there for days. But washing dishes was usually Ethan's job and that hadn't happened that night – and she didn't feel like doing them for him. So they were going to go in the dishwasher and it was going to get turned on before Hank had a chance to protest it.

"I'm at Dad's," she said flatly.

"He there?" Justin asked.

"No," she muttered, transferring the rinsed plates from the sink. "He's upstairs."

"Sleeping?"

She snorted annoyed. "Justin, it's like nine-thirty. Do you think your dad is sleeping?"

Silence. "Maybe he's sick," Justin provided.

"He doesn't get sick," she muttered. Hank didn't have time to get sick. He never had. But considered how he paced himself – how rundown he sometimes looked, how rundown he must feel at times – it was amazing that he managed to power through without some sort of cold or flu attacking him on a regular basis. Especially with how much they were around them in the hospital anymore. "He's getting Ethan down for the night," she provided for him.

"And he gets lights out at nine-thirty now?" Justin muttered. "Not even in high school and already got it pushed passed nine? Must be nice to be the youngest."

Erin rolled her eyes again. "We're behind schedule tonight," she allowed. Not that she thought Justin needed any explanation – or deserved one. But she thought that should be enough to shut him up – it wasn't.

"It's fucking ridiculous that Pop still tucks him in," Justin mumbled in her ear.

Erin clanked the plates into the dishwasher a little more angrily at that. "Your dad got in the door all of twenty minutes ago—"

"Yeah, he's always working…" Just muttered in her ear.

"Yeah, Justin," she spat. "He is. To provide for his family. To have fucking health benefits so he can take care of his sick son – who he hadn't gotten to see all day. So, yeah, he's upstairs, tucking your brother in. So he can see him for a few minutes. Give him his nighttime medication and get him to read, because your dad is about the only person in the world who seems to have the patience to sit through that. So cut the bullshit and cut them both some slack."

Silence hung again but then all it was was "Your boyfriend there?"

She grunted annoyance at that and pushed shut the dishwasher door, turning the dail to get it to start filling and then walked into the dining room, starting to flip shut some of Eth's textbooks and notebooks that she'd been sitting with him and trying her best to drag him through.

"What do you want, Justin?" she said syllable by syllable, ignoring his question. "Is Halstead with you?" Justin stressed again.

"No," she spat at him annoyed. "I'm alone. I'm downstairs. I'm trying to clean up so I can go home."

"Do you have it on speaker?"

"NO!" she spat louder. "But getting this shit done would go a lot faster without having my shoulder rammed against my ear. So tell me what you want, Justin, or I'm hanging up."

"I need you to talk to Pop," he put to her flatly.

She sighed. Yanking at some of the papers and assignments that had been sent home to set in a pile for Hank to see along with the kid's agenda so he could see what other joys the school had coming up and a scribbled note from one of the teacher's that basically indicated that Ethan hadn't had a particularly good day in math class and had put off some attitude to demonstrate his own frustration with not understanding the class. Hank would likely be pissed but that was for him to deal with – not her.

"About what?" she asked.

She hated playing the go-between for them. She'd hated it while he was a teenager. She hated it more after Camille was gone. And even more after Justin had gotten himself sent to jail and then fucked up near immediately after being released from jail. She had thought him and Hank had developed enough of a foundation she wasn't having to play that role as much anymore. Mostly because it seemed like since being in lock-up Justin had decided she was the Golden Child and Hank's favorite and he usually just didn't want to talk to her about much of anything anymore. Things seemed to have improved a bit with him in the army and the baby and having Olive in his life. But he'd managed to completely derail where their family had crawled to over Christmas. She wasn't exactly over it yet and she didn't get the sense that Justin was either.

"He coming the long weekend?" Justin asked.

"I don't manage Hank's schedule," she muttered at him, as she scooped up Ethan's iPad and fiddled around to send the notes they had on the screen to Hank's phone so he could look over that too.

"Well, has he said anything about it?" Just pressed at her.

"No," she mumbled into the phone.

"If he's not coming out this way, I was sorta thinking maybe I should try to get a mileage pass and come out that way."

She sighed at him and straightened, crossing her arms and staring across the room. "He's taking Eth ice fishing on the long weekend," she provided and a long silence hung again. An abrupt one. "And I don't think anyone's ready to have you back here yet."

Erin could feel the change in his breathing over the phone. "Then I need you to talk to him about that," Justin seethed at her. "Because I don't know what I need to do to be allowed to come into my own fucking home and city again."

She shook her head even though she knew he couldn't see it. "That's not a conversation for you to have with him – not me," she said.

"Erin," he spat into her ear. "You've got to talk some sense to him. You know how Pop gets."

"Look, I don't know what your dad said to you," she said. "I wasn't there. But I've got the general gist and I'm pretty sure I'm with him on this one."

"Yea, more and more like him every day," Justin mumbled.

"Well, there you go Justin …" she put right back to him.

"Then I at least need someone to fucking tell me what he needs to end this bullshit," Justin muttered.

"I'm pretty sure, it's an apology," Erin hissed at him, wrapping her arms around herself tighter. "We all do."

"I'm sorry I feed E the fucking popcorn and Coke," Justin seethed angrily.

"Justin, that's not what this is about," Erin sighed exasperatedly. "If it's been this long – and that's still all you've got out of what happened, then you really aren't ready to be back here yet."

"Then what's all this about, Erin?" he spat at her.

She sighed and gazed at the floor. "For me," she said. "It's about you doing your best to make me feel like shit and like a non-contributing member of this family."

"Oh, don't be so fucking melodramatic," he groaned at her.

"Justin, you went out of your way to make me feel like I was being some giant inconvenience to you over the holidays. Like you didn't even want me – or I wasn't allowed – to spend time with you or my nephew."

"Look, it was my holiday," Justin hissed. "We had Olive's family to see too. I was tired. We were tired with the baby. And you and Dad were treating us like some kind of fucking babysitting service."

"And it was our holiday too," Erin pushed back at him. "And we were working – and trying to get to spend time with our family. Your little brother had just been in the hospital for two weeks. We were exhausted. We were stressed. And I don't think any of us realized it was such a big deal for you to spend time with your brother while you were home."

"We weren't just sitting around home," Justin spat back. "We have the baby. Do you have any idea how much work—"

"Oh, fuck off, Justin," Erin muttered into the phone, running her hands through her hair. "I remember what having a baby in the house was like. I was there too when Eth was born. But you want to know what having a sick little brother is like?"

"He's Dad's problem," Justin muttered.

Erin let out annoyed amusement. "Yeah, J, I wish I could see it quite that way. My life might be a lot easier if I could. But somehow, that just doesn't seem to be the way reality works. So you know what? I put in a full-day at work. I was there at 7 a.m. – like you Dad likes. I went and picked Eth up from his Robotics Club at five. Then I took him over to see his therapist. We got home around seven. I made him dinner. I tried to do homework with him and now it's nine-thirty at night. I'm cleaning up so your dad doesn't have to. I might get out of here by ten. Only I'm behind on paperwork and the one case I'm on is eating at me – so I'm likely going to go back to district for an hour or two. And, it'd sort of be nice to see my fiancé outside of work – so I might get some face-time with him around midnight. Your dad has his COMP-STAT meeting tomorrow morning at the Ivory Tower – so it means that he'll get Eth up but I come by and get him to his things before school. So that means – trying to get him to eat again, getting him to his physical therapy for an hour and then getting him to school for eight-thirty. Which means I likely won't roll into District until about nine, which means I'm starting the day behind and will likely end up working late again tomorrow. As usual. And these aren't two of our particularly busy days. Shit wasn't hitting the fan at work or with Eth. These are just regular days. So don't give me fucking bullshit about you being tired or the baby being too much or Ethan being an inconvenience or me not contributing to this family."

The silence that hung between them just seemed to spread. "So you're saying you want an apology too?" he put flatly.

She let out a laugh and shook her head, reaching to stuff Eth's homework into his backpack. "You know, Justin, I don't know what I need from you at this point. But I think it's more than an apology. And so does Ethan. And so does Hank. And the one you give Hank –it needs to go a hell of a lot farther back than this Christmas."

"So … he's not coming on President's Day?" Justin put flatly like they hadn't just had any of that conversation. "Because Olive was asking."

Erin let out a sigh and zipped up the zippers on Eth's bag. "He's taking Ethan ice fishing," she provided again.

Silence. "He callin' this Sunday?" he asked.

Erin shrugged and picked up the bag, taking it to put by the front door to make things a little more organized in the morning. "Doesn't he usually call you on Sunday?"

"Yea … but it's Super Bowl Sunday," Justin said flatly.

"So …?"

"When he calls on Sundays now he just talks to Olive and H," Justin said with a touch of poutiness that was almost sadness. "Super Bowl, we always used to talk. Watch the game together if I was around."

"Well, you aren't around," Erin provided.

There was a slow exhale from Justin. "He doin' something for the game this year?"

"I have no idea," Erin muttered.

"Watchin' it with E?"

"Ethan doesn't really like football, Justin," she allowed. "You know that."

"So you aren't goin' talk to Pops for me?"

"No," she provided gently but firmly.

"Erin, c'mon," he near whined at her. "You always fix this shit for us. Since Mom died—"

Erin shook her head and put her hand against her temple. This conversation was giving her a headache. "Yea," she interrupted. "I did, Justin. I tried and tried and tried to help you and your dad patch things up and figure out a way to heal after all that. I tried to be there for you and be the person for you to go to and be your big sister. But you've spent the last five years pushing me away. And just when I've felt like we were starting to get close again, you keep knocking me down. Hard. And I know you live off in your own little world – but I had enough knocking me down lately without my younger brother doing it too. So I'm done right now. You're my brother. I love you. I love Henry too. But … I'm just done. You're going to have to figure out how to fix this with your dad on your own. And I guess decide if you want to try to fix this with me and Ethan in the process. But, J, I'm pretty sure you're going to need to at least fix this with Eth before you're able to fix things with your dad."

"Erin—"

"Say hi to Olive for me and give H a kiss," she said. "Be there for them."

And she hung up before he could say anything more. She wasn't ready to hear it. And Justin wasn't ready to say anything she'd be willing to listen to anyways.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Anyone actually hosted a birthday party for nerdy preteen boys? DM me (or comment) with any insights on how such things work or hilariousness or awkwardness that ensues. I've got some ideas on how Ethan's birthday might end up going down and won't likely write it for a while but thinking on it a bit at this point. Remember it's Hank ... anything will only be so sophisticated or expensive. As in un. But any funny stories, thoughts or ideas - or not so funny - would be appreciated.**


	46. McFlurry

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SOME SEXUAL DISCUSSION. IT'S STILL PRETTY T RATING BUT MIGHT MAKE SOME PEOPLE UNCOMFORTABLE. THE LARGER DISCUSSION IS IMPORTANT TO JAY/ERIN'S RELATIONSHIP, THOUGH.**

Erin shifted, propelling herself off the couch and straddling Jay – without breaking their kiss. She settled into his lap for a moment – barely. She could feel his arousal pushing up against her through his pants and she was far enough along with her own arousal that the sensation of his erection being right there was enough for her to start a slow grind against him as she continued to kiss him. Her arms wrapping around his neck. Her fingers threading through his hair – stroking a bit at his stubble.

She waited for his hands to instinctively fall to her hips. To hold her more tightly against him. For him to inevitably wrap his arms around her and reposition them on the couch so he was on top and in control – because he never let her have the upper hand for too long. But none of his usual movements came. Even his kiss seemed lacking – more like she was kissing him than he was kissing back. And, cupping his cheeks, she broke her mouth from his, looking at him questioningly. His mouth was slightly agape and he had those eyes. Soft eyes – not aroused ones.

"What's wrong?" she asked, some of her own concern washing over her.

"Why do you never go down on me?" he asked with this soft gravel in his voice and that little boy look of his that underlay his concern.

Erin just gaped at him a moment, drilling annoyed eyes into him. "Really?" she huffed.

"Erin—" he started.

But she shook her head and moved to get off of him, flopping into the cushions on the couch as far from him as possible. "Now seems like a good time to just bring that up," she put to him.

He eyed her for a moment and then glanced at the bulge straining in the front of his jeans – though already clearly not quite as much as before. He shrugged, giving her a slightly playful smile like he was going to try to be cute. "Well … yeah …" he said with another little nod at his crotch.

She rolled her eyes and looked away – gazing off at the framed band tour posters on the back wall of her living space. Looking at the turntable and the stacks of vinyl that Hank had let her "borrow" that were now lining her low bookshelf along the wall. It was a good thing that one of the records wasn't on. She didn't want her brain to forever associate some song or album to this conversation.

"Always the perfect gentlemen," she muttered.

"Erin," he sighed, shifting on the couch to move a bit closer to where she'd plopped herself but she pressed herself farther into the arm of the sofa and farther way from him. He reached out his hand and rested it on her bare foot instead. Her feet were cold. Her blood had started flowing other places until all of this. His hand felt warm against her but she still pulled it away too – pulling her knees closer to her. "You had to know that I was going to want to talk about this eventually."

"There is nothing to talk about," Erin said, shooting him stern eyes and then drawing her hand up to her face – trying to block herself from his view a bit and his from hers.

"OK …," Jay said, sitting back a bit into the cushion. "Well … I guess … maybe with the whole engaged thing, I'd sort of like to talk about if the no oral sex thing means … always."

She gave him a patronizing look. "Yes, Jay, it means always. I told you no. I meant no. If that's a deal breaker …" she shrugged, like she didn't give a shit. But that was a lie. She did.

"Relax," he said more gently and reached and put his hand over her foot again. She tried to pull it away but he held it a bit more firmly that time and she didn't fight under his grip. Not with the eyes he was giving her. "Why's it no – always?" he asked.

"Jay, it doesn't matter why it's no. It's just no," she said firmly.

He pushed his shoulder back into the cushion more, eyeing her with those eyes again. "It matters to me why it's no," he said. She rolled her eyes again and looked away. But he shook her foot. "C'mon. If oral was suddenly off the menu, wouldn't you want to know why?"

She pressed eyes back at him. "One -," she stressed. "I have never asked you to go down on me." He raised at eyebrow at her at that. And she rolled her eyes. "I never asked until you showed a willingness to offer that … service."

He gave her an amused grin. "Yea," he nodded.

"And," she held her finger up at him. "I don't tend to ask when we're still fully clothed on the couch."

"OK," he allowed. "I'll give you that. But – now if I suddenly said I was never going to do it again – wouldn't you have a few questions."

She huffed at him. "Jay," she stressed. "It wasn't sudden. I told you upfront that I wasn't going to suck your dick. End of story."

"Forever and always?" he put to her again.

"Yes, Jay," she stressed more firmly. "Forever and always. I guess you should've gotten a few more blowjobs before you decided to put a ring on it."

He stared at her. "And you don't think that prompts a line of questioning?"

She shrugged and shook her head. "Not really. Pretty sure a lot of women just aren't that in to having a dick in their mouths."

He gave her a look – like he wasn't buying it. Because why would he.

"You aren't exactly a prude in the bedroom," he said. "And you aren't 'a lot of women'."

She just let out a noise and looked away. She really didn't want to be doing this. Having this talk. She wasn't ready for it. She might never be ready for it. She thought being upfront and honest about her boundaries would've been enough. He'd made it seem like enough. Until now.

"OK," Jay said shaking his arm on the back of the sofa like he'd had some kind of revelation. "Let's say you went to McDonald's—"

"I don't eat at McDonald's," she put to him flatly.

He gave her sterner eyes. "Let me finish my analogy."

She gazed at him and the corners of her mouth tugged into a smile she could hardly contain – as much as she wanted to. "Analogy? Jay … are you about to compare our sex life to McDonald's?"

He held up his hand on the back of the couch to stop her – like this was going to make absolute perfect sense and clear up everything. "Let's say you went to McDonald's—"

"I don't eat at McDonald's," she said again – more firmly.

"You've been in a McDonald's," he said to her, scrunching those eyebrows of his. "I think you can follow along."

She gave him an amused look and sat back in the cushions a bit more to hear this – because as much as she didn't want to talk about this, THIS should be good.

"You go to McDonald's," he tried again. "And fries have been on the menu your whole life. And now you get in there – and fries are no longer on the menu—"

"Is this some sort of post-911 scenario?" she teased. "Freedom Fries? This why you enlisted, Jay?"

"Ha, ha," he put to her but his eyes said otherwise. "If a burger joint doesn't have fries on its menu – after always having fries on its menu – aren't you going to want to know why fries aren't on the menu?"

"And your penis is the fries?" she put to him bluntly. Saying it out loud sounded just as absurd as hearing it.

"The fries are blowjobs," he said instead.

"Ah …" she nodded and shook her head at him, trying not to laugh. "Don't you think you could've picked a better menu item for this simile? McFlurries."

"Oh …" he grinned and tapped at her foot more. "Thought you didn't eat at McDonald's."

"I don't," she said again.

"Not even McFlurries?"

"Definitely not McFlurries," she put to him firmly.

He sighed. "Well, I didn't say McFlurries because they haven't been on the menu forever and always. Fries. McDonald's has always served fries."

"You know this for a fact?"

"Want me to Google this shit?" he asked reaching for his phone, but she just kicked him.

"Jay," she said a bit more gently but still making sure to stay firm, "fries have never been on our menu."

"But they've been on the menu of my sex life," he said, holding her foot and rubbing his finger along it. "And I just kind of want to know why it's not anymore."

She sighed and looked away again – finding a spot against the back wall. "Because eating at McDonald's and putting their fries in my mouth is just not something I'm interested in," she mumbled.

"But you've eaten at McDonald's and you know their fries are pretty awesome?" he asked, shaking her foot again.

She glanced at it. "I'm not sure if you're trying to convince me that McDonald's fries are where it's at – and if you are, I think you're failing as a Chicagoan. There are much better places to eat. Or if you're saying your penis is awesome and clearly giving you a blowjob should be awesome too."

He gave her a pathetic look. "You don't think my penis is awesome?" he teased.

She shrugged at him. "It's average. Which is likely sadly below average when we're using a McDonald's analogy."

He put his hand over his heart. "I'm hurt," he said.

"You brought it up …" she muttered.

"Mmm …" he said and shook at her foot again. "No, you did that," he teased.

She rolled her eyes. "You're ridiculous," she said and gave him firmer eyes. "You realize you could've been getting laid right now but instead … we're talking about McDonald's fries."

"I want to talk about this," he said with a lot less tease in his voice and she looked to see those concerned eyes sitting on her again.

"Yea … clearly … you're very hungry," she said and pulled her foot away from him and got up to pad to the fridge. She wasn't hungry but she could use a drink. A stiff one. But beer would have to do.

"Erin …," he sighed after her. "It's not even about the blowjobs. You know that."

"Do I?" she muttered at him, as she twisted the cap off her beer and too a long swig.

He sighed at her and stood, walking over to her kitchen island and planting his hands wide apart on it. "I will go the rest of my life without a blowjob – if it means that I'm spending the rest of my life with you."

She cocked her eyebrow at him as she brought her drink down. "Music to any girl's ears," she told him sarcastically. "A gentleman and a romantic."

Jay groaned at her, twisting his head around his neck a bit, like he really needed to loosen up before pressing further. She wished he'd just let it drop. But Jay could be like a dog with a bone.

"You know with us not ever talking about this, I'm making assumptions about the whys behind it."

She shrugged at him and started to raise her beer back to her lips. "Go ahead and make assumptions. You're a detective, Jay. Sure you can figure it out."

"I think I've got it pretty figured out," he told her, keeping her eyes. "And that makes me worry about you too and makes me want to talk about this even more."

She shook her head at him. "There's nothing that I need to talk about," she put to him again.

"You know I saw your C.I. file, right?" he pressed at her.

Shrug. "Yea."

"You know that I saw you got picked up for solicitation?"

"Yea, Jay," she nodded. "I figured you made sure to read all you could."

"And I know Bunny's a fucking shitshow. And that she's been married … what … six times now? That's a lot of men in and out of the house. And your brother—"

"Don't talk about Teddy," Erin spat at him sternly.

"He ended up in a pedophilia ring, Erin," Jay pressed at her.

"And now he's doing … whatever the fuck he's doing," she said. She'd lost him again.

"That's a lot of shit going on in your childhood and we never talk about it. You start your life story at fourteen."

"Because that's when my life started, Jay," she put to him. "That's when I got into an environment where I could have a life."

"And what the fuck does that mean?" Jay said. "I know—"

She held up her hand at him and shook her head. "Don't psychoanalyze me, Jay."

"Erin—"

She drilled her eyes into him, though. "You want me to list off my concerns and assumptions. To do my own psychoanalysis of you?"

"I don't have anything to psychoanalyze," he shrugged.

"Really," she put to him. "Because, see, I know you have major Daddy issues but you don't give me any details on that either. But I do get to hear about how your older brother let you down and didn't protect you. And I see how you were with that case when you were on patrol—"

Jay shook his head. "He was a pedophile," he said, pointing a finger at her. "And he raped and killed my ex's baby brother."

"Hmm," she nodded. "A pedophile," she agreed. "Funny when we had that case in the fall – with the swim coach and Ethan."

Jay shook his head more firmly at her. "That case got to you too. That kid. Ethan's name. Barely older than him. Private school."

"Hmm," Erin nodded again. "And you saying he was you when you were a kid. That look on your face when you told him his mom needed to know."

"His mom fucking needed to know," Jay hissed at her.

"Yea, she did," Erin agreed.

"None of that has anything to do with our relationship – in the bedroom or otherwise," he put to her.

"Doesn't it?" she said and took another sip of her beer. His eyes were angry with her but he hadn't retreated. He just glared. "I could give you a whole list of reasons why how you interacted with all of that impacts our relationship. But let's focus on my assumptions about the bedroom – since that seems to be what you wanted to talk about." His eyes danced at her. "You think I haven't noticed how you always have to be in control? You hate being in a submissive position."

He shrugged at her. "That's a pretty normal male thing."

She cocked her eyebrow at him. "Actually, in my experience, it's pretty normal for guys to like the woman on top fairly regularly."

"We take turns," he said in near staccato.

"Sure," she said. "Seems like one of our turns is shorter than the others. Why's that, Jay? Why do you have to control everything in the bedroom? Why are you militant about maintaining eye contact?"

He just shook his head at her and let out a long breath while he examined the countertop.

"Know what I think?" Erin said, inching toward the counter. "I think someone touched you."

"No one touched me," he muttered.

She took another sip of her beer. "Wasn't it soccer that you said you played? Star player? And … just suddenly dropped out?" she shrugged at him. "Started playing all those violent videogames? A loner?"

His eyes found her. "No one touched me," he said more firmly.

She shrugged. "OK," she allowed.

He shook his head at her again and straightened, running his hand through his hair and wandering over to her dining table. He looked like he wanted to hit something.

"I'm not the only one who's not ready to talk about what happened to me, Jay," she said a bit more gently.

He glanced at her over his shoulder, shaking his head while still running through his hair. His body language made her think that maybe she'd hit closer to some of what had happened than she'd meant to. And that hurt her too. Because she didn't want him to have to carry that kind of pain.

"Yea …" he allowed but let out a slow breath and came over, putting a small peck against her cheek and gripping at her shoulder for a moment. But then he looked away. "I'm going to sleep at my place tonight."

She nodded. "OK …" she mumbled. But she knew it wasn't. For either of them.

 _ **AUTHOR NOTE: Contemplating doing an advance chapter of Voight/Benson set after next week's crossover episode. Thoughts? Also have some ideas in regards to Ethan's birthday and father's day. And a bunch of other things. Will likely jump around a bit the next several chapters. But keep ideas and feedback com ing.**_


	47. Compromising Positions

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET AFTER CHAPTER 45 - MCFLURRY. It will be moved in about 24 hours to reorder.**

Erin gave the doorframe of Hank's office door a little knock before he looked up from his paperwork and acknowledged her presence. She didn't wait for an invitation to come in, entering and pushing the door almost shut behind her. It was enough of a tell that she was looking to talk to him as her parent – her guardian – and not her boss, that he gestured at the couch across from his desk.

She let out a little sigh and crossed her arms but Hank just eyed her and then glanced at his watch before he stood from his chair, pulling open a bottom drawer in one of his filing cabinets behind his basket and setting about pouring a thumb of whisky in two glasses. He rounded his desk and held out a glass to her. She took it and he gave her shoulder a small squeeze, before gesturing at the couch again and twisting around the hard chair in front of his desk and taking his own seat in it. So she took the offer and moved to sit, sipping slowly on her drink.

"Some day," he offered. "Rough one."

"Yea …" she agreed softly, not really looking at him. Because she knew that he was reading her. Measuring what her being there meant. What her body language meant. Where she was at in body and mind.

But then he just glanced passively at his watch again. "They're pulling a late one with E's team. Long day for him too. Should be texting for a lift soon, though," he reached over and grabbed at his phone, looking briefly at the screen like he might've missed it.

Erin just made a sound of acknowledgment and held the whiskey up to her nose to smell it – to see if just the scent might calm her churning mind a bit – than drinking it. It had been a long day. A rough case they got closed. But that's really wasn't where her head had been at. Not that she'd tell Hank that because he hated when your head wasn't on the job. That's where it needed to be when you were at work. If he suspected it wasn't, he was liable to send you home – or at least bench you.

But it didn't change the fact she'd been distracted. She had been for a couple days. Since her and Jay fought. It seemed like they'd moved beyond it. At least at work – because they were professionals. Because the job meant something to them. So they stayed professional at work and they kept their personal lives personal as much as they could anymore these days. But it wasn't always easy. Especially when they hadn't really talked about it anymore. They really hadn't talked at all outside of work since it'd happened. And part of her didn't really want to. Not yet. But another part of her was annoyed that he hadn't tried again – because she thought he needed to talk, had things he should be or needed to be saying for the sake of their relationship – just as much as her.

So she'd twisted the knife that day. She hadn't really done it purposely – but she also had. She'd seen the food. She'd been hungry. A snack got offered. She'd said no. But then it'd dawned on her that they were fries and she'd taken one. On purpose. To send a message. And it had. She'd seen – and felt – the look he'd given her. Pure disgust.

And even though he'd managed to hold his tongue in the garage, as soon as they were leaving the first thing out of his mouth was, "I thought you didn't eat fries."

"Not McDonald's fries," she'd stated rather firmly and rounded the car to the driver's side – taking the wheel.

Jay had glared at her more while she did it and taken a long time to open the door and get into the car. She knew he was fuming and taking a couple moments to calm down before getting in. She'd continued to feel it radiate off him as they drove back to district – and then they'd done their best to not speak to each other – professionally or otherwise – for the rest of shift. Which really just distracted her more and then had been weighing heavy on her since he grabbed his jacket and didn't even make fleeting eye contact with her as he left the bullpen for the day. No word on where he was going on what he was doing that evening – though she was pretty sure it involved being annoyed, if not outright pissed, with her.

Hank glanced up from fiddling with his phone. She suspected he was likely tracking Ethan's phone and making sure he was still actually at the school and not off doing something awful – like grabbing a slice of pizza for dinner with some of the other kids.

"You should head out," he muttered. "Commander's got what she wants."

Erin just made another sound of acknowledgement and twisted the glass more in her hand. "You remember when you approached me about being a C.I.?"

Hank's eyes came to hers – done fiddling with the phone. It got set on his lap – forgotten. But he just grunted at her. Acknowledged that he did.

"They had me sitting in that interrogation room forever," she said, giving him a bit of an accusing look.

He shrugged. "Mmm," he allowed. "Took me a while to get in back doors from where I was. Maybe I figured you could use a bit of a scare too."

She rolled her eyes. "I got held for way longer than we're allowed to hold minors."

"Never paid much attention to that rule," he said.

Erin snorted and shook her head. "I already knew you were a cop, you know. Before you showed up there."

He gave her a thin smile at that and twisted his glass, looking down at it. "Always were a smart cookie."

"But I never asked for you when they got me inside," she said.

"Mmm …" he grunted. "We hadn't properly met."

"I knew your name," she said. "But I didn't ask for you."

"Ah, well," he shrugged and looked up and gave her another one of those thin-lipped looks. "I was the dirty street cop, right? Wouldn't come out for some kid asking after me."

She shook her head at that. She knew just how untrue that was. So did Hank.

"You called me in that night, didn't you?" she said. "You tipped some patrolman or dispatch or something about where I was and what I was doing and you had me hauled in?"

It was something she'd thought before. It was what she'd pieced together. It was the only logical explanation. But she'd never said it before. She'd never asked him about it. Because it wasn't the kind of thing they talked about.

"Did I?" was all Hank provided in response.

She shook her head at him and gazed at the ground in front of her. "That wasn't the first night I was out there," she whispered.

"But it was the last," Hank rasped.

Her eyes came up to find his. They were sad and serious. His head still slightly nodding from the firmness of his statement. The intensity of it just made her head fall away again. A sense of shame that she hadn't let herself visit in a long time but so often struck her about other things in her life – Teddy, Nadia.

"How fucked up do you think me doing that has left me?" she asked quietly.

She heard Hank let out a long sigh and heard him adjust himself in his chair. A tell. Usually he tried to have no reaction – physical or verbal. To seem so unaffected by everything. But it was like he couldn't and that made her look at him again.

"I think it affected you," he said, nodding at her. "How couldn't it? It affected me."

"Hank…" she sighed at him.

But he just nodded with an intensity. "It did," he pressed at her firmly. "You were a little girl, Erin. Ethan's age. And you're selling yourself on the street? Fucking perverted assholes taking advantage of that vulnerability and desperation."

She shrugged. "There were lots of other girls my age – younger – on the street doing the exact same thing. More. Worse."

Hank gave a little shrug. "Not in that group I was working," he said.

"So that's it?" she asked. "There's no bigger story about why me?"

"Erin, I've learned over the years, you can't save them all and you can only help the ones who want to be helped. So maybe we both just lucked out in time and place."

She let out a little snort at that explanation. But she knew it was likely all she was going to get. It was the most she'd gotten in more than fifteen years. But she'd also known it likely wasn't the full story. As much has Hank worked based on his gut, he usually had logic to his madness. It was just that he usually didn't feel like he had to explain himself. And he rarely apologized for his decisions or actions either.

Not that he owed her apology in this case. If anything she should be thanking him – again and again – and not buying into this supposed fate that just brought them together like some sort of manifest destiny.

"It affected you …" she put back to him, shaking her head. "It didn't affect Bunny."

Hank made a disgusted sound and shook his head, looking over at the far wall of the office like his eyes could drill holes in it – and like he wanted to too.

"Bunny …" he shook his head again and looked back to her. "She's just as much of a criminal as those man you got into cars with. Went down alleys with," he put to her firmly. "She put you in that situation, Erin. Teddy. Look what happened to him? If I had my way – she'd be in jail rotting for what she did to you two kids. What she put you through. What she still puts you through."

Erin sighed and shook her head. "She doesn't put me through anything, Hank. She's not even in the city anymore. I think she's afraid you'd put her in a pine box if she came back any time soon."

"That'd be more than she deserved," Hank spat back at her.

"She's my mom …" Erin sighed at him. This wasn't going the way she had meant.

"She's your cancer," he pressed. "She likes you to be vulnerable. She likes to try to fuck with your role in this family. You put on these fucking blinders when it comes to her. You forgetting what she did to you in the spring? What she did to this family in the fall? That she almost got your brother, your nephew, me – killed."

"I remember, Hank …" she muttered.

He looked at her sternly. "And do you know what you would've done to yourself if any of us got hurt? You wouldn't have blamed Beckett. You wouldn't have blamed Bunny. You would've blamed yourself. Because you're always too fucking hard on yourself and then you step on one of those banana peels of yours and –"

"Hank—" she spat at him exasperatedly with this lecture that was sounding a lot more like a ran.

He let out a long grunt – that was almost a sigh and rubbed at his face. "Why are we talking about this?" he asked. "She get in contact with you again?"

Erin shrugged. "Not really. She was still in Las Vegas last I heard."

"Then you've heard too much from her," he said sternly. "What's you want? Money?"

"Nothing, Hank. I don't know," she shook her head annoyed. They were so far off-topic that now her blood was boiling in a different way.

"You talking to her then? You reached out?" Erin sighed and he eyed her. That head bobbing again. "I know you've been thinking about it with the engagement but—"

"I haven't talked to Bunny," Erin pressed at him angrily and then let out a sigh and gazed into her glass again. "Jay's seen my C.I. file, Hank," she said after a long pause, slowly looking up at him and that pucker he was giving her. "He saw that I was picked up for solicitation. He's asking questions about it. He thinks talking about it is important for our relationship. But I don't know how to talk about it. I don't even know what to say. I don't even want to talk about it. Still. Now."

Hank gazed at her for a long time. Hank was a man of few words but it didn't usually mean he was at a loss for words. But the longer he gave her that deep, soulful look of his the more Erin felt like he really didn't know what to say about it. He didn't know how to fix it. When he'd always been the man in her life who could fix just about anything.

He sighed after a long while and shook his head at her, giving a shrug. "I don't much want to talk about it either. Now. Still," he nodded at her. He rubbed at the evening scruff on his face and bit and took a sip of his whisky, twisting it in his hand and examining it for a moment.

Erin was starting to think that was about all she was going to get to him but then he started his rasp. "You know there's barely a day that goes by that I don't wish we got you home sooner," he finally said and looked at her. "That we crossed paths sooner. That I was in a position to safely reach out to you sooner. That I earned your trust faster. That you were able to want the help and ask for the help sooner. That we got you out of there and home with us sooner. Fuck, Erin, there's days I wish that you were fucking Moses in the reeds and we scooped you out of the river as a baby and had you there in the house all along."

Her eyes welled a bit at his statement and she again looked away because she hated it when he saw her get emotional. She hated being emotional in front of him even more than she did other people – because he knew her vulnerabilities and he usually tried to protect her. But it also meant he knew the sore spots. Not that he meant to be hurting her now. It was just that even now sometimes it was hard to accept how much she was wanted and loved in the family that Hank and Camille had brought her into.

"And if that's what knowing what your childhood looked like. Knowing some of the shit you had to do to survive and try to take care of yourself and your mom and your brother the best you knew how. If that's me – then yeah, I think it affected you. And, yeah, having some sort of communication with Halstead about it – is important. Because, Kiddo, what you went through seeps off of you whether you like it or not. It affects our relationship as a father-daughter. It's going to affect your relationship as a husband and wife."

"You and Camille had secrets," she tried weakly – seeking some sort of affirmation that she was allowed to have some of her own.

Hank shrugged at her. "Kiddo, we likely had fewer than you think. Marriage doesn't work too well if you're always hiding something from each other."

"But you didn't talk to her about work. Some of the things you did … you do …"

Hank let out a sigh and gave a little shrug. "Erin, she likely knew more than you think. We knew each other a long time. She knew how to read me. My moods. There wasn't much point in trying to hide things from her. And, with what I did, how much I was out of the house – I needed to give her something or else she'd just start filling in the blanks on her own. When people go and start filling in those blanks on their own – that's not usually so good for a relationship either."

"Did Camille know I did that?" she asked, looking at the floor.

She could feel Hank shrug even though she wasn't looking at him. "Camille wanted to know what we were getting into and who was coming into our home. Get some idea of what to expect," he allowed flatly. "I told her as much as I felt she needed to know and the rest – she was a pretty smart cookie too, Erin."

She looked up and gave him a little smile at that. "She never said anything about it," she said quietly, looking away again. "Neither did you."

"We respected your privacy as much as we could – and we trusted you to tell us what we needed to know. And we got you the help we thought you needed," he said.

She twisted the glass in her hand. "And you still think I need a shrink," she said drily.

"I think you deserve to have someone to talk to and that for some things there's people way more qualified than me around to give you advice and for other things – I know you just aren't going to come to me about them," he said.

She found his eyes again at that but the way his eyes are sitting on her said he had more to say. He gave her a sad smile.

"You know, Kiddo, you can come talk to me about whatever you want, whenever you want. That I'll listen and try the best I can. But, right now, while both of you are still working this unit – some of this stuff – I just can't, I won't, weigh in on. I've got to keep the work and home stuff separated. It's hard enough to keep the two of us from blurring that line. I can't be looking at another one of my detectives knowing you two are fighting or struggling or thinking he's pressuring my daughter in some way about things I don't much want to be thinking about."

Erin let her eyes fall away from his again. It felt a bit like a punch to the lung but she knew what he was saying. She understood. They had an agreement about her being able to work there. They'd adjusted it to give her and Jay some time to work out what they were doing. That was hard enough. She didn't need to make it harder. And she knew if she did that it would be Hank who'd be making the decision about what the future looked like for all of them – without their input.

"How much did you know about him when you brought him into Intelligence?" she asked quietly.

Hank shrugged again and pouted his lip. "Antonio vouched for him," he allowed and brought his glass to his mouth, taking a slow sip as he eyed her.

She eyed him back. "But you looked into him. Read his file," she stated.

"Sure," he shook his head like it was a statement of the obvious.

"So what's in there?" she pressed.

He played his fingers along the glass. "The things CPD thinks should go in those kinds of files," he provided. "For what that's worth."

"He's seen my file," she put to Hank. "I haven't seen his."

His eyes remained on her. "Erin, I'm not letting you look at his jacket."

"You don't think it's a little weird that you likely know more about him than me?" she put to him.

Hank pouted and nodded again. "Yea," he agreed. "I think that's a little weird. More than a little. And, Kiddo, I think this whole conversation isn't one you should be having with me. It's one you should be having with him. And it's likely one the two of you should've had long before this."

Erin sighed and looked down but Hank just went back to fidgeting with his phone, having now said his bit. He lifted it up and looked at the screen again.

"This fucking thing doesn't vibrate when Eth texts me," he mumbled. "I don't know what I fucking did."

But he stood downing the last remaining sips of his whiskey and gestured at her to do the same, holding his arm toward the door in a clear indication he wanted her to get out and that the office door would get locked that night.

"C'mon," he ordered. "Go home. Go find Halstead. Stop fucking sitting on your thumbs. Doing that is just making things harder for yourself."

She looked at him and gave a little noise as she rose and trudged out. Sometimes she only felt like she knew how to do things the hard way.


	48. Vulnerable

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 47 - COMPROMISING POSITIONS - in the story.**

Erin sighed as Jay blocked the doorway to his apartment – beer in hand and staring at her blank faced and wordlessly.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

He just shrugged but stepped to the side – revealing that he wasn't alone in front of the hockey game on the television. Mouse was sitting on the couch with a beer too – gazing toward the doorway.

"Oh …" she started and stopped before she was more than two steps into the apartment.

Things were clearly in a worse spot than she'd thought if Mouse was there. As little as Jay told her about his and Mouse's history – their past, their backstory, their friendship, their time in Afghanistan – she knew enough to know he was his key confidant. Jay told Mouse things he didn't tell anyone else. Talked to him about things that he wouldn't anyone else. Her included. Mouse knew more about him than she did. Maybe he knew more about him than Jay would ever let her know.

"Ah …" Mouse stuttered and fumbled to get to his feet. "I should go."

Erin nodded. An acknowledgement. A thank you. But Jay spun and looked at his friend.

"You don't have to go," he stated firmly – and Mouse sputtered again. This time in place, as he tried to figure out if he should follow his own instincts or if he should listen to Jay. Some unstated bro code. He looked even more awkward and unsure than usual.

Erin crossed her arms a bit and glared at Jay – not Mouse. It wasn't his fault.

"Umm … yeah, he does, Jay," she put to him firmly.

He looked at her and shook his head. "No, he doesn't. We're watching the game."

"We need to talk," she stressed at him even more pointedly.

But Jay just shrugged and took a tug of his beer, eyeing her as he did. "Didn't want to talk the other night. Didn't want to talk today. And I don't think I'm ready to talk tonight either."

She just eyed him back and allowed her own little shrug as she shook her head ever so slightly. "Fine," she allowed. "I'll talk. You can just listen."

Jay kept staring at her. There was a harshness to it. But it was more of an emptiness. A coldness that had less to do with anger and something buried so much deeper than she didn't even know if she was ready to fully explore it yet. So maybe it was fine if he wasn't ready to talk yet. Let him listen. He was usually good at that. But when he was usually listening his eyes looked different than the ones he was giving her right then too.

"I'm gonna go," Mouse stumbled again and pressed by them in there stand-off. Jay didn't even acknowledgement the statement. Didn't move a muscle as Mouse retrieved his coat and awkwardly tried to pull on his boots and laces as quickly as possible – ultimately scooting out the door with them untied. He wasn't that brain damaged. He knew when to duck and run – quick.

"Can we sit down?" Erin put to him as the door pulled shut behind them. But Jay just shrugged. Still not moving. So she just pushed past him. "I'm about to tell you some things that I haven't every told anyone before – so maybe you can stop it with that look and show me the guy I agreed to marry," she muttered as she went.

She heard him sigh behind her as she got herself established on his couch. She hated his couch. It was too small for anything. And it was going to be too small for this too. She would've preferred to sit farther way from him than the few feet that existed when he finally did come over and sit on the opposite end, his arm resting over the back of it as he gazed at her. She was seeing more of Jay's eyes then – the ones she loved – then that glassy stare that had been glaring at her in the doorway.

"You want a drink?" he offered.

"Yes," she said but shook her head, reaching and running her hand through her hair – drawing it away from her face, though part of her just wanted to hide under it as much as possible. "But no," she said.

She didn't need liquid courage. She'd probably drank enough of it in the couple fingers of whiskey Hank had given her. She shouldn't have more. That'd just numb her. And as much as she wanted – liked to be – numb during this kind of talk. She knew she couldn't be. Shouldn't be. Not this time. Not with Jay.

She sighed and gazed at where her own fingers were playing against the smooth leather on the back cushion too.

"I just need you to let me talk for a bit. Right now - I don't want it to be a conversation or twenty questions. Just let me tell you. Get it out and then …" she shook her head and let out another sigh, "we'll see."

"OK …" Jay allowed carefully.

She kept flicking at the leather on the couch. Gazing at her fingers while they made the movement. Feeling his eyes resting on her.

"Look …," she finally managed. "I really don't know what you need to hear or want to hear because I think we both know exactly what happened and where my hang ups come from."

She sighed and forced herself to look at him. The intensity of his look had changed. She had his full attention. His focus. But the scrutiny of it still made her uncomfortable. It always did. As much as she knew Jay cared about her – loved her – he often made her feel like she was living under a microscope. And a big part of her really hated that.

"I don't think it's that unique of a story," she told him.

Because it wasn't. It was a sad reality for too many street kids. For girls. Growing up in broken homes and with junkie parents and strange men in and out of the house – who were just as out of their minds as the parents. Foster care and running from DCFS to avoid it – the system. Somehow staying in the fucked up mess – the septic rat hole that you'd come to think of as home … as normal – always seemed like a better option than ending up in the system. From being taken away from the people you knew as your parents and thought of as your family. Even if part of that little kid in you (that had never really gotten to truly be a little kid) knew that the situation you were living in was wrong. It still seemed safer and better than the unknown and all it held. All you heard about.

So you did what you had to survive. You lived in the 'normal' that had been established in your life. And that wasn't a unique story.

The things that made her story unique was the ending – or the middle or whatever this was.

It was unique in that she got out. She got a home and a family and a safe place.

She wasn't dead. She wasn't a junkie. She wasn't a prostitute. She didn't have a bunch of pale, gaunt, strung out kids of her own being put through the same sort of bullshit that she'd gone through. That endless cycle of neglect and abuse. Maltreatment.

Her escaping that. Being rescued from it. That was unique. A miracle in itself.

The beginning. That wasn't unique.

She had childhood friends with the same story. They encountered people living the alternate middle – or that same beginning – on at least a monthly basis with work. On patrol - it was more like daily.

It was just the way it was. There wasn't anything particularly special about it. And it wasn't a beginning that she thought she needed to fill a lot of blanks in.

Jay had grown up in the city too. He was a cop. He'd walked a beat. He'd seen it. He knew how it was. He didn't need to be told. But that's what he wanted. Apparently he needed her to say it. And as much as she hated that – she would. Because not saying it – now – seemed to carry other outcomes that she hated just as much (if not more) than continuing to put off this conversation.

"It started out as my spending time with a guy who was a bit older than me. I guess I was twelve. Abouts, maybe," she allowed. "Ethan's age."

And that scared her. Sometimes she found herself thinking about it all – again – now that there was a little boy in her life. Because he was that – a little boy. And that's all she'd been too. A little girl. A kid. But it'd never really felt like that at the time. She hadn't ever really been allowed to be that. And when she looked at Ethan and saw just how little he was. How innocent and naïve he still was despite things he'd been through and things he'd seen and experienced and had to do himself. And it made her sad for the little girl she was – but couldn't remember. And it made her worry about him. When he said things about "Netflix parties" and "Rainbow parties" and his little crushes and his definition and confusion around things like sex and blowjobs and relationships. Because she didn't want him to be confused or hurt. Or worse – to become one of those slightly older boys that were the gateway to her introduction to using her body and selling herself. And pieces of her soul and self-esteem and self-image along with it.

"He wasn't that much older," she clarified. "Grade Eight. Fourteen? But we'd hang out at his house. A group of us. The neighborhood middle school kids. His parents. They weren't much better than mine. They weren't there. And even if they were – they weren't. So we'd drink. We'd party. There'd be junk around. His parents were too out of it to know what we took. And they were going to smack him and his brothers around anyways whether it was one of them who took it or not.

"The guys. They figured out pretty quick that they could put clauses on what the girls would do to get access to what was in the house." She shrugged. "Making out. Hand jobs. It became oral sex. But it was 'just' oral sex. Everyone treated it like it wasn't a big deal. The thing was that since it wasn't a big deal – it wasn't a big deal if you were doing it for more than your boyfriend. Because it wasn't sex, right?"

She shook her head as she said it. She wished she could go back and talk to that little girl. To change that trajectory. To explain to her what was actually going on. How it'd really make her feel. What it'd mean for her perspective on herself and men and sex and relationships. But time travel wasn't reality and she tended to operate in the real world. As shitty as it was.

She sighed and looked away from Jay because she didn't want to see his face – his eyes – when she explained the evolution of middle schoolers doing shitty things – that they didn't even fully understand – to something much darker. Loss of innocence to real loss of innocence. First fucked up sexual experiences to something much more insidious.

"Doing it for friends. Other kids around my age. Turned into doing it for his brother. But they all seemed OK with it and his brother – he could get junk for my mom. And getting it for Bunny that way meant there was more money around for things like food, heat and hydro. And that didn't seem like a bad thing either." She looked up and shrugged at him – and those sad eyes that just seemed to seep a pity that she wasn't sure she could handle. "But then I figured out that it wasn't just drugs that doing it could get me. That it could get me money. And that seemed like a better thing to be bringing home than more dope for my mom."

She looked away from him again – gazing at the couch cushion between them – because she really couldn't handle looking at those eyes. She didn't like what she was seeing there. But then she felt his hand resting on top of hers over the back over the couch and she moved her eyes to stare at it. He wasn't holding it. It was just there. Draped over hers.

Erin let her eyes slowly shift to his again. Though, she knew hers were betraying some of her own sadness. Emotions and memories she didn't like dabbling in.

"I didn't like it, Jay," she put to him a little more shakily than she would've liked. "I never liked it. But my childhood was fucked up. And there's a lot of things that I did that I regret. Or I wish hadn't happened. But when you're a kid in a situation like that – it's about survival. And that's all it was about for me. And I was lucky in that … physically … I didn't ever get too hurt or pick up some STI. Taken advantage of – yes. But mostly unscathed – beyond being pretty embarrassed and rather ashamed about it. And, yea, it had … has … implications on the how I see myself. How I see relationships. How I've treated sex in the past. And, honestly, if you hadn't seen the solicitation charge in my file – it's not likely something I ever would've told you. At least not in this way. Because it's not really something I want you thinking about when you look at me or when I touch you or when you touch me. And it's not something I really want to be thinking about when I'm with you either. And when there's a dick in my face, Jay, it's something that I'm going to end up thinking about." She sighed and shook her head. "But if this is something that's that much of a hang-up for you – and our relationship or sex life or whatever – then I trust you-"

"Stop," Jay sighed and shook his own head, squeezing her hand tightly.

"I do," she pushed at him. "And if it's that important to you … or us … then I can figure out how to deal with going down on you. We'd need some ground rules," she said as he held her hand tighter. "I really wouldn't want you touching my head."

"Erin …" he sighed harder and gripped tighter at her hand – like he was trying to pull her closer to him but she didn't budge. So he scooted forward – closer to her, closing the gap and invading her limited space in a way she wasn't sure she wanted right then. "It was never about the blowjobs," he said firmly.

She shrugged, looking away – back at the even smaller space between them on the couch. "I know …" she allowed.

"You don't talk to me," he pressed.

But she shook her head and looked at him. "That's not true," she pressed at him, pulling her hand out of his and setting it over top instead. He gazed at her questioningly but she could see his eyes – his changed breathing pattern – already protesting her statement, her movement. "Jay, you are always putting me in positions to push me toward talking about myself. My past. To 'get in front of things'. You make me vulnerable and then you take advantage of that vulnerability."

"Erin—" he protested though somewhat weakly. She could hear the acknowledgement in his voice.

"It's true," she said. "It's not just this … fight. You've done it in other conversations. You do it in the bedroom."

He pulled his hand out from under hers at that and snaked it into his lap. He just looked at her. He didn't protest. There was just a sadness there. Now not so much directed at her – but his own unspoken sadness that he still wasn't going to talk to her about.

She sighed and gazed at her own legs for a moment. How they were tucked under her on the couch. She was planted in the spot – not positioned to bolt. Maybe that said something. She looked back at him.

"I didn't like at the start how you like all the eye contact when we're having sex, Jay," she put to him. "I really hated it. It was hard for me. Because it made it actually about us. You. Me. Not just the sex. And that's not how I treated sex before. But then I started to like it. Because being with you that way – actually seeing you and looking at you and being there in the moment with another person – made me feel really wanted and cared about. And that's not something sex had ever been for me either. So I do look at you now, Jay. But the longer I'm with you – the more I see of you. And I know the open eyes – the eye contact – it's not about me. I'm not sure it ever was—"

"Erin—"

But she shook her head again to try to stop him. "It's about you, Jay," she put at him. "And it's about control. And it's just another way of putting me in a vulnerable position."

"That's not what I'm trying to do," he pressed at her.

She shrugged. "But it's what you're doing. It's how you're making me feel. And, Jay, I get it. I like to be in control during sex too. I don't like always being the one on my back. Being dominated."

Jay made a sound and scrubbed at his face and glared at her. "I make love to you," he near hissed. "You're making it sound like I …" he shook his head with some disgust. "I don't even want to think about what you're saying. Because I'm not that guy. I'm not."

She nodded. "You aren't that guy," she agreed. "But I do look at you, Jay. I do see your face and your eyes. And it's not all about me. Or making love. Or being in the moment. And, Jay, I've been through enough and I think I'm an astute enough detective that I know what's really behind eyes like that. I can fill in my own blanks."

He shrugged at her. "Then I guess we don't need to talk about it."

She shrugged back at him. "I guess we could go that route. But that tells me a lot about you too, Jay. And it's another side I don't like to see. Because, in case you haven't noticed, I really like you. I love you. You treat me a way I like being treated. You give me my space and support me. And I feel safe with you. If I didn't – we wouldn't be talking about this. You're the longest I've been in a real relationship. You're probably the only real relationship I've ever had. You're definitely the most normal. But the longer I'm with you the more I feel like I don't know this man I'm supposed to be marrying. And it's even more frustrating when there's people around me – your brother, Mouse, even Hank … who know more about you than me. And you won't tell me anything. Even when I know your upset – when I try to support you, to be there for you like you are for me – you give me breadcrumbs, Jay. If even that."

"You know me better than Hank," he put flatly.

She let out a little noise and gave him a sad smile. "Maybe," she allowed. "But not because you've told me anything."

"There's nothing to know," he put to her.

She frowned and shook her head at him. "I do know you well enough to know I don't believe that."

"We aren't talking about this," he said firmly – pointing a finger at her to emphasize his point.

Erin nodded but reached and took the hand he'd moved away from her. "OK," she allowed. "But I just told you things that I haven't told anyone before. And I just expressed a willingness to work on things that will be really hard for me – because I trust you and I care about you. And I want to make you feel the way you make me feel. So I really need you to give me something right now, Jay."

He shrugged at her and tried to move his hand but she wouldn't let him – gripping on it tightly to the point she knew her fingers were pressing into his skin in a way that was going to leave white marks when she did let out.

"I don't know what you want me to say," he muttered, glaring down at their hands.

"Yeah, you do," she told him.

His eyes moved to drill into hers. "You want me to lie to you so you can feel better about what happened to you."

Erin shook her head. "I want you to talk to me – to tell me the truth – so you can feel better about what happened to you."

He yanked his hand away firmly at that – yanking her arm with it before he managed to slip out of her grip. "There's nothing to talk about – because nothing happened. I like missionary. I like blowjobs. I prefer to be with a woman who can actually look at me and not jam shut her eyes like she's just letting me use her as some sort of orifice and wants it over with as quickly as possible. And, I don't feel the need to fuck your brains out and be some sort of jackhammer. That's normal – not abnormal."

She let out a slow breath and looked down again. Their knees were touching. Barely. But funny that they were – because they felt so far apart.

"This normal is actually feeling pretty fucked up, Jay," she said under her breath.

"You feeling that way says more about you and your sexual history and preferences than mine," he provided flatly.

She looked up to catch his icy eyes again. But it wasn't just that blank look that he let set over himself. That deadness that she hated seeing flash in him. There was a teary emotion to it that she could see in his slight tremor he was trying desperately to hide. She put her hand on his knee. He didn't jerk away, though it felt like he thought about it for a moment. But the tension in his muscles was near humming under her fingers.

"Something you have said is that you're jealous of Hank—"

"I don't want to talk about Hank," he spat at her.

She just kept his eyes and ignored the interruption. "Of the family he made for himself. The kind of husband and father he was. Is. One of the things that got him those things was one rule, Jay. 'In our house, we trust each other.' So in my family – we told the truth. The good. Bad. Ugly. Illegal. But the truth. And it let us trust each other. To be a family. And – that's going to be what my household is going to look like, Jay. It's how I'm going to raise my kids. And it's what I'm going to expect – demand – of my husband. I'm not going to marry a man who doesn't trust me. Who doesn't tell me the truth. Who can't even talk to me."

"So you're breaking the engagement?" he put to her flatly – not even blinking when he said it.

So she shook her head and reached to unclip the necklace that was holding the ring around her neck – close to her heart but away from the real place it belonged. She gazed at the ring on the chain for a long moment before slipping it off and carefully placing it on her finger – a place it hadn't been since Christmas Day. She looked back to him to see him eyeing the gold and diamonds as well.

"I know you well enough to know you're better than that. That those things – that family – it's what you want too. So I'm going to give you some time to get in front of this," she said and watched his eyes. "And, if you can't, Jay. If you won't. It's you who's going to break this engagement – not me."

She could see the glassy emotion in his eyes – their rimming red – as he shook in his attempts to stay stony.

She gave him a thin smile and reached to squeeze his hand again, and then leaned forward to cup his cheek and place a small peek on his jaw line. She looked into his eyes as she inched away.

"I'd like to get the chance to be the one who makes love to you, babe," she told him gently.

His eyes flickered a little. The emotion even less hidden for that split second. So she stroked at his cheek with her thumb.

"Bet you wish you never brought up McDonald's fries," she offered in a quiet tease with a little smile.

He returned it – pulling ever so slightly at the corners of his mouth, just enough to turn his etched frown into thin-lined lips. "I didn't say that," he told her.

She gave him a bit firmer smile – however sad it might be – and sat back to look at him for a moment. To give him another second to decide if he was going to talk. But he wasn't. And Erin just nodded, pushing herself off the couch.

"We'll talk later …" she told him, giving him another small look.

"Yea …" he nodded.

She gave him a sad look. She'd wanted more. It hurt a bit. Maybe more than a bit. But less than before.

"Night …" she provided and headed for the door. Slowly pulling it open and shutting it behind her. She hoped it was only the door she was shutting.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Three chapters were added yesterday. They're still the three ahead of this one. They haven't yet been reordered. Please check them out. Reviews and feedback are always appreciated.**


	49. Bowled Over

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET AFTER CHAPTER 45 - MCFLURRY. It will be moved in about 24 hours to reorder.**

"Hey!" Erin heard Ethan shout, and glanced up from her magazine just in time to see the Nerf football Jay had been kneading bored in his hands bounce off her baby brother's head and go scuttling across the floor – Bear chasing after it.

"We aren't watching another episode of this garbage," Jay put to him, her eyes shifting to the television to see that Ethan had most definitely started another episode of the show that she'd been ignoring for the past two episodes. Actually – she'd been ignoring it from the opening credits of the first one he'd put on.

It was proving to be a long afternoon. She should've known it was going to be.

Hank had called her late morning and ordered – not asked – her to come over and help him take down the top bunk in Ethan's room. He'd gruffly provided, "I'm fucking done hitting my head on the thing." She knew that Hank could more than manage ripping the bunk bed apart on his own. That if he was really that worked up about it – he would be in there tearing the room apart right that instant. So she could kind of see where this was going.

She was being summoned to give him a break from Ethan – for whatever reason. Not that he was likely to tell her the reason. But she could also summarize the possibilities on her own. The main being that Ethan was a kid and sometimes he could be a little much. And as patience as Hank was – he also wasn't a very patient man. Sometimes he needed to step away or he knew he'd say or do something that he'd regret when it came to being a single dad to his youngest.

So she'd come over – dragging along Jay, despite his protests. He'd been pretty committed to his intentions to sit on his ass all day staring at the television. Super Bowl Sunday. Erin really couldn't give a shit about whether she saw it or not. But she'd offered up half-assurances that 'how long could taking apart a bunk bed take?' and that they'd be back long before the actual game started. She could see him still hesitating on if he was going to come with her or just keep his ass planted on her couch. But he'd come. She suspected mostly because he felt weird staying alone in her place – even though she wasn't sure if he should. Maybe he should? She wasn't sure she liked leaving him alone in her place. Or anyone for that matter. It was her space. Her place. It had her things. She was likely still a little possessive and untrusting about things like that after how she'd grown-up until her teens. Maybe Hank tossing her bedroom on a pretty regular basis until she was about 17 had something to do with it too. Even though she understood why he did that. And he never took anything – beyond things she wasn't supposed to have in the first place and had been stupid enough to bring into his house. Even cigarettes and booze were a no-no. He had usually left a mess for her to clean-up, though. But that was part of the point of the whole thing. And she was always expected to clean it up immediately. But she'd always been expected to stand there outside the door while he tossed it too – so he could measure her body language and facial expressions. He still read her too well. Or he was just too good at that generally. But it'd definitely contributed to her distaste about leaving people alone in her space.

She thought Jay got that. That he felt a little weird being in her space alone too. Among her things. Even though he was there more and more. Because she was generally more comfortable spending her downtime in her own space than his tidy but slumming it apartment.

Anyways, even if it wasn't staying at her condo that he was uncomfortable with, she also suspected he didn't feel like going back to his place – even though he'd repeatedly told her that his TV was far better than hers. Clearly, though, her condo was far better than his for multiple reasons. Whether he was ready to admit that yet or not.

It had ended up being Jay who helped Hank rip apart the bed and hump it down to the basement. Not that she wasn't capable of doing it. Hank just seemed to think she'd be better at keeping Ethan out from underfoot and based on the way his dad was snapping at him at that point in the day – she'd accepted that was likely the best course of action. So she'd sat with him at the dining room table trying to get him to at least think about some geography project that he seemed unwilling to focus on at all.

It'd been a little funny listening to Hank bark orders at Jay at the top of the stairs. She knew that's just how Hank was. But she could feel Jay biting his tongue even from where she was sitting. He hated taking orders, which was kind of funny considering his military service and then becoming a cop after that. She'd seen more than once how his face and body language changed when he was being told how to do something – how to work. Especially if he'd initiated something on his own or felt that he knew better – or that his way was better. He had issues with authority. She understood. She did too. So maybe it was a little funny she was a cop too. But her issues with authority were more expected. Jay's time with the Rangers – you'd think some of it would've been knocked out of him and he'd had learned how to just obey and take an order without having that aura radiating off him when a command was issued. He thought his own judgment and morals superseded most people's most of the time. And maybe it did – but not always. Though, she was pretty sure he didn't need to be told how to dismantle a bunk bed or carry a mattress or deal with the plastic and tape to get it wrapped up and protected from dampness, water and dust.

But the two of them had made short work of the bed. Jay likely just wanted to get it over with. Taking Hank's boss tone at work was one thing. Dealing with it in his off-time was another. Another thing Erin also understood. She hated when she got one of his dad lectures – 'this is the way it's going to be', 'do it now', 'you're going to listen' tones – outside of work too. It often made her feel like he still treated her like a little girl. Or worse – he still didn't trust her. Not as his daughter, not as an older sister and not as an adult.

But the effort to get the bed ripped apart quickly had clearly been part of the plan too. Because when Hank had reappeared and again – more ordered than asked, that she/they stay with Ethan while he went out to do some groceries – again so he could do it without Ethan underfoot and slowing him down. She'd been pretty whatever about it. They were there anyways – babysitting Ethan during a grocery trip wasn't exactly a big deal.

The thing was that Hank had left on this grocery trip almost three hours ago now. Even if Hank was doing his thing where he didn't actually go to the grocery store – he went to the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker and talked up everyone in the store before buying his single item at each place – he was taking a long time. Erin had pretty much figured out that he'd likely be coming home with groceries but that before he'd gone to do any of them, he'd likely gone over to the social club to have a coffee and read the paper and play a couple hands of cards – alone – first. But she acknowledged he needed that sometimes.

Hank had never been particularly good at taking time for himself. She supposed most parents didn't really get that luxury. Or at least the good ones. Or the ones that weren't Bunny – in the very least. Technically, Hank did take time away from his family. A lot. But then it was about the job. The city. Actually taking a time-out? Or doing something for himself? That didn't happen often. Even the social club debatably wasn't exactly his own time. He kept up his connections and presence there for a reason too – that had little to do with the cheap beer, boxed wine or other men to play cards with.

But he'd definitely been even worse about taking even that time – his networking, his street talk, his tough guy prowl – since Ethan had been home. She knew some of that was just because even with her helping out – big time – that being the parent on his own was a lot given what his job was. Balancing the needs and time commitments of the job with the needs and time commitments for a pre-teen kid was a tough scheduled to get to mesh. Add in Ethan's medical appointments and therapies and need for extra help with homework and learning – even Erin could see Hank living like he was in a pinball machine some days. Just bouncing from one thing to the next. He'd been starting to look a bit more ragged with it too. His salt-and-pepper brown crop was starting to look a lot greyer than it was eight months ago.

So if he needed a couple hours away from Ethan – she'd give him it. It wasn't like he asked for it often. Not that he'd exactly asked this time either. But that was Hank.

"Maybe you should be thinking about starting dinner rather than watching more Master Chef Junior," she muttered at her brother. "Saw your chore chart. It's your day to cook."

"How can I cook when he hasn't come back with groceries yet," Ethan mouthed at her.

He was in fine form that day. Erin could really see why Hank needed a break before he rang his neck. There was a whole lot of teenaged snark coming out of his mouth. Attitude. Almost none of which she was willing to attribute to him being in pain or not feeling well or his medications. It was just him being a brat.

And it'd sounded like he'd been being bratty most of the weekend. He'd already complained at her about what a hard ass Hank was being that weekend and yelling at him about 'everything'.

Everything had apparently included the fact he'd been lax about his chores during the week because he was 'tired', that he hadn't brought down, sorted and started his laundry before going to his Robotics Club meetings on Saturday morning and then had been lazy about doing it when he did get home in the afternoon to the point that he had the drier going at night rather than hanging it up – one of Hank's pet peeves. He also hadn't taken Bear out on any of his walks or dealt with any of the poop pick up in the backyard that week – apparently. And, he was pulling the 'tired' and 'not feeling well' card near nightly too, meaning he wasn't keeping up on his augmented learning plan and now he wasn't even trying on his geography project. Apparently Hank had already sat with him to try to coach him through coming up with an idea and doing some research for the poster-board display he needed to get done. So, yeah, Hank had been a little annoyed with him. And he'd handed out his usual consequences and punishments to little avail apparently.

"You could start the prep with what's in the fridge," Erin said. "What are you making?"

He gave her another look. "Are you staying?" he asked bluntly.

She shrugged at him. "I don't know. Maybe."

"That's not fair," he said. "Then I have to make for four people – not two."

She gave him a look. "Boo-hoo. I cook all the time for you."

"You order take out," he said. "Or give me cereal. Gross cereal."

"Don't been an ass," she warned sternly.

"Well, I don't want to cook yet," Ethan protested.

"You should go do prep or go do your homework," Erin pressed more firmly. "And maybe Dad won't be quite as pissed with you when he walks back in the door."

"He's in a fuckin' bad mood," Ethan muttered.

"Hey," Erin said and stood from her chair, pacing over to the couch while rolling up the magazine and swatting him in the thigh with it. He grabbed his leg and gave her a hurt little boy look. "Watch your mouth," she warned him.

"You swear all the time," he protested.

She shook her head. "We're all supposed to be cuttin' back on that. And if I told your dad that word came out of your mouth while he was out, your allowance would be disappearing."

"He's already put all of it in the charity jar anyways this week," he pouted loudly.

"Maybe because you haven't been doin' anything that deserve you getting any kind of allowance from what I hear and there's other kids and families working a lot harder than you this week who could really use a hand up," she pressed at him, batting his legs away so she could sit down next to Jay. She'd spotted something she wanted to show him.

"You sound like him!" Ethan spat at her.

She grunted some acknowledgement while she paged through the magazine again, trying to find the page she was on. "Likely because sometimes you need tough love," she muttered at him, "to get you to listen."

"I'm tired!" he protested louder and kicked one of his heels into her thigh.

She glared at him, grabbing his ankle and holding it tighter. "Do not kick me," she warned. He glared at her and she tossed his foot aside. "You know this tired card is only going to work so often," she mumbled at him.

"I am tired!" he argued.

She found his eyes. "And maybe you're tired because you're doing too much," she said firmly. "You know, I told your dad that he shouldn't be encouraging you with this Robotics stuff."

"I LIKE ROBOTICS!" Ethan yelled at her that time and crossed his arms.

"Hmm," she acknowledged. "But I saw how exhausted you were that first week back and I told your dad you were going to run yourself into the ground."

"SO?!" Ethan protested.

"So maybe if you're so tired it's too much for your right now," she put to him.

"IT IS NOT," he pressed back at her.

"No?" she asked. "I sort of think it is. Because this week – you sure have been acting tired. You've been grouchy. You've had an awful attitude. You've been talking back. And your dad is only going to put up with that so long – especially when you aren't doing your chores around here and you aren't keeping up with your schoolwork."

"Dad said I could do Robotics," Ethan protested like that explained everything.

"Hmm," she acknowledged again. "Yeah. But I know your dad pretty well and if you aren't handling Robotics and you're getting behind at home and school and you're so tired you aren't acting like Ethan – you guess what's going to go first?"

"THAT'S NOT FAIR!" Ethan spat at her.

She shrugged. "Oh, your dad will make it fair. Just keep you from going to the practices until you're rested up and caught up with school. But what happens if you miss too many practices, Eth?"

"I don't get to play at the matches!" he moaned at her.

"Hmm," she acknowledged. "And if you don't play certain matches – what's that mean?"

"That I might lose my spot and might not get to go to City or State or Regionals or Nationals!" he whined so hard she thought he might cry.

She shrugged. "Yea," she acknowledged and looked back to the magazine. "So maybe you might want to go and work on some of your chores or that project. Or if you're really that tired – maybe you should be going upstairs to take a nap."

"You're so mean!" he pouted at her. "I'm just watching TV."

"No, you aren't," Jay said and flopped over her and reached up Ethan, grabbing the remote out of his hand and tugging on it until he let go. "I'm watching some of the pre-game programming."

"No one wants to watch that!" Ethan groaned at him.

"Umm … yeah, I'm pretty sure your dad is going to want to watch it when he gets back," Jay said, flipping the channels around.

"Football sucks!" Ethan moaned.

"So all the more reason to go do something production until Dad gets home," Erin said, having finally found the page she was looking for and flopping the magazine into Jay's lap. He glanced at it from his channel flipping. "What do you think of that?" she asked, tapping her finger on the page.

He gazed down at the magazine for a moment. "It's a woman in a dress," he muttered and looked back to the screen. "I guess she's OK."

Erin rolled her eyes. "I meant what do you think about the dress?"

Jay glanced at the page again. "I don't know much about dresses."

Ethan squirreled around on the couch at that and flopped against her shoulder – apparently having already forgotten he was pissed off with her and bored. But Erin was flipping to another page and flashed it at Jay too.

"I kinda like that one too," she said.

Jay gave it another glance, as he got onto the channel he wanted, and grunted some acknowledgement.

"They're wedding dresses," Ethan announced and looked at her with big eyes. "I thought I got to help you pick?!"

"Yea …" Erin muttered, flipping through some more pages. "I'll take you with me one day when I actually go to the store. I'm just looking at the magazines right now."

Ethan's finger hit a page as she was paging through. "That one's neat."

"Umm … no," Erin said shaking her head in some disgust. "I'm not looking for anything that big and fluffy."

"But it looks like feathers," Ethan added – like that was a selling point.

"Yeah, I'm not trying to look like a bird," she muttered.

"You know a lot of scientists think that birds evolved from small carnivorous dinosaurs," Ethan provided like that was a selling point.

"Also not trying to look like an evolved dinosaur," she said.

Ethan made a little sound of disappointment at that and leaned looking more at the magazine as she turned the pages. She saw that Jay was looking now too – though more at her than the magazine.

"What?" she asked.

"You're buying a dress?" he said.

"Well, I need to wear something," she muttered.

"Yeah … wear that …" he said, gesturing at the jeans and Henley she had one.

She snorted and gave him a look. "I don't think so," she spat.

He shrugged. "It's just a civil ceremony at the court house. Wear whatever."

"I'm not getting married at the court house," she put to him, giving him a horrified look. "Civil ceremony – fine. Court house – no. You know how much time I've spent in court houses? I'm not starting my married life in one."

Jay gazed at her with some perplexed horror. But Ethan interrupted on his behalf.

"You should get married at Wrigley Field," he offered. "Like on the jumbotron. That'd be so cool."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's just for engagements," Erin muttered.

Ethan leaned over her to look at Jay. "You should've done that!"

But Jay was just gaping at her and not cluing into the humor behind the fact her baby brother had just suggested she dress like a bird … or a dinosaur … at their wedding … and that the ceremony be performed at a Cubs game. He was seriously missing out.

The door opened and Hank clomped in, stamping the snow off his feet. "E, got the ingredients for Sriracha drumsticks and collard greens. How's that sound?" he called out aimlessly from the front door.

But Ethan just sat up straighter and gazed toward the doorway. "Dad, don't you think Erin and Jay should get married at a Cubs' game?"

Hank poked his head into the entranceway, shrugging his jacket off his arms. "Yea, sure," he said absently. "If that's what they want."

"That's not what I want," Erin muttered.

"It'd be soooo cool!" Ethan protested.

She just snorted at his insistence as Hank wandered into the room with a couple grocery bags in hand – not nearly enough to justify his length absence. But not explanation was given as to why he was gone so long and she didn't press the matter.

"You wedding planning rather than project planning?" he put to Ethan, gazing at the pre-game special on the TV screen that Jay had seemed to have forgotten he'd put on. "This starts at what … 6:30, right?" Hank muttered. He looked at Jay when he didn't answer and then glanced at her and the magazine in her lap.

"We're picking out Erin's dress," Ethan informed his dad.

Hank grunted and took a step over to the couch and looked at the page she had open upside down.

"What do you think of that one?" she put to him.

He grunted again. "As long as I don't have to pay for it," he muttered and nodded at her. "You pick up some magazines?"

"Burgess gave them to me," she mumbled.

Hank just grunted again at that and started to trudge out of the room. "Magoo, get off the couch. Your day to cook. Going to show you how to do these chicken legs."

Ethan looked at her – letting out a little huff. But apparently she'd given him enough of a lecture about the thin line he was walking these days that he wasn't going to argue with his dad. It might be the first time in about a week he'd been smart enough not to put up a front with him. So at least Hank could thank her for something later. Not that he would.

He got up and followed after his dad, Bear quickly taking his warm spot on the couch and huddling up to her, seemingly wanting to be part of the wedding planning too.

"You seriously got those from Burgess?" he said after a long silence.

She shrugged. "Yea, she's not using them now. They're expensive."

"And they're likely like jinxed or something," Jay put to her lifting the corner like it was contaminated.

She gave him a condescending look. "It's not jinxed. We both knew her and Adam weren't going to last. It's better she got out of it before they dropped all that money on the wedding. Among other things …" she muttered.

"Yeah, exactly," Jay said. "All that money. I thought we were doing a civil ceremony."

"We are," Erin shrugged.

"Well, I thought we were going to do it cheap. And small," he pressed at her more.

She gave him a look with some annoyance to it. "Yea," she agreed. "But I'm not doing it in a court house. And I'd like to wear something that doesn't look like I just got off shift."

"So you're going buy like a $2,000 dress?" he pressed at her.

She glanced at the page. "I think this is actually a $8,000 dress." He gaped at her. "I'm just looking," she said. "I might like to get like a $400 dress, Jay. Maybe. I haven't gone to a store. I don't know how much these things are. It's not like I'm Googling it or watching Say Yes to the Dress."

"Four-hundred dollars?" Jay put to her. "Look, we could take everyone out for dinner for less than that after."

She snorted. "Where are you planning on eating after this ceremony? Because I'm pretty sure it's going to cost more than $400 to feed everyone."

He gaped at her even more. "Who's this everyone? I thought it was like Voight, Ethan and my brother."

She shrugged. "You're going to want to invite more people than your brother."

"Who?" he pressed.

"Mouse," she suggested.

He shrugged at her. "He's my best man. He's not a guest."

"I thought your brother was your best man? And I thought we were just going to call them 'witnesses'."

"Whatever," Jay muttered. "I'm closer to Mouse than Will. Mouse is standing next to me. And he's basically family."

Erin shrugged. "OK, well, if you're inviting Mouse because he's 'basically' family then I want to invite some people who are basically family too."

"Like who?" he demanded.

"I should at least invite Justin and Olive. And Henry," she said.

He open mouth gaped at her. "You've spoken to him like three times since Christmas," he huffed. "And he didn't invite you to his wedding."

"Because they did it as a civil ceremony in a court house," Erin provided flatly.

"Exactly!" Jay pressed. "So Voight, Ethan, my brother and Mouse. That's enough."

She shrugged. "And Alvin and Platt."

"What?" Jay gaped at her again.

"C'mon," Erin said. "They've known me since I was like fourteen. They know you. They're like Hank's family too. It will be fine. It will be nice."

"OK …" Jay said, slumping back into the couch and gazing at her. "So know you've got … potentially seven people coming to this thing. And I've got two?"

"I'm sure there's other people you want to ask," she said.

He looked at her. "Do you see me hanging with some wide pool of friends that I'm unaware exist?" he put to her.

She frowned at him but he just rubbed his face. "So where is it that you want to do this thing?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it depends on when we're doing it."

"I thought we said the fall," he put to her.

She nodded. "Yea," she agreed. "We just haven't set a date yet … so …"

He just looked at her with more disbelief – even though she'd been the one who'd been hesitating on putting a date on it because she knew as soon as they did there'd be other discussions to be had with Hank – as their boss – and decisions to make about their future in terms of their careers. And that part of this she just wasn't ready to delve into yet. Looking at wedding dresses – kind of fun in a little girl fantasy way. Even though it wasn't really a fantasy she'd ever had. Having to make big decisions about what their future careers would look like and talk about it with Hank? That didn't fall anywhere within her definition of a good time.

"Outside might be nice in the fall," she said.

"Outside," Jay looked at her. "In Chicago. In the fall." He rolled his eyes.

"OK, fine," she muttered. "Then let's at least do it somewhere that serves a decent meal." He looked at her in more disbelief. "A girl's gotta eat."

He rolled his eyes. "She's always hungry …"

And it's true. She was. And really – the longer they took to sort any of this out, the hungrier she got to get it sorted. The more she started thinking on bigger terms and not this little hidden away ceremony that no one came too. She didn't want to be flashy. That wasn't either of them. But she also wasn't going to hide away. They'd come too far for that.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Another chapter was posted before this tonight — Chapter 51, Special. Please be sure to go back and check it out.**

 **Also any feedback on how you think Easter would play out (or how you'd like to see it play out), in terms of if Hank would take Ethan to visit Justin/Oliva/Henry, if Hank would go and Ethan would stay home with Erin/Jay or if Hank would stay home and have the weekend at home with Ethan.**


	50. Dynamics

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 ****** AUTHOR NOTE WITH SPOILER ALERT: This chapter contains Olivia Benson as she is depicted in my other SVU AU series (Hello Goodbye and Welcome Home). The chapter contains some spoilers related to the Welcome Home story, for readers that may not want to be spoiled. Also, there are some minor spoilers related to Ethan's Robotics Team's efforts. And I suppose possibly for anyone who doesn't know what the plot of next week's crossover episode is going to be. ******

 **THIS CHAPTER COMES IMMEDIATELY BEFORE HANK AND ETHAN'S ICE FISHING TRIP. It will be moved to reorder in about 24 hours.**

Olivia Benson raised her eyebrow as the door swung open – almost violently – and Hank Voight looked at her almost like he was surprised to see her. But she gave him a smile and held up a bottle of red in offering.

"Didn't think you drank this, so thought I should bring my own," she said.

He gave her a thin lips and gestured for her to come in. She stepped into the house a little unsurely. Glancing around the hallway and into the darkened living room. She'd actually thought she might've beat him to the house, it was so dark when she drove up. It didn't look like he had any lights on up front at all. Though he'd switched one on in the hallway when she'd rang the doorbell that she'd heard echoing in the house in long musical notes rather than a simple ring.

"Here. Let me take that for you," he said and did some sort of 'c'mon here' gesture that she assumed meant she could take off her coat. So she did – handing him the bottle of wine first. He examined the label – cradling it in his palm – with the look of a consignor. "Very nice," he rasped and gave her a slightly friendly-look – as friendly as Hank Voight ever managed. "Think I can manage a glass of this," he said, shaking it by its neck at her as he accepted the jacket which he just tossed over the stairs' banister rather than hanging up anywhere – as she bent at her waist to unzip her boots and remove them on the assumption they were to be left at the door too. For quick exit? "Will go good with dinner."

She gave him a thin smile as she straightened. "When you said you'd get me dinner, didn't know this is what you had in mind," she told him.

He just made that grunt that he seemed to think was an effective form of communication. "Wasn't looking at the time. Needed to get home," he said, which seemed to dim the invitation some.

It was a courtesy that had been presented. Maybe she was supposed to take a rain check. Or have joined Fin for the evening, though, he seemed more set on doing something with his night in Chicago than her. She'd been OK with the concept of grabbing a bite to eat and then going back to the hotel to call the kids and Brian. To try to settle her mind from the case – and to take advantage of a night of alone time … quiet time … without it eating her up and sending her mind all sorts of places she didn't want it to go these days. But she'd thought this would be just as good of a distraction. Maybe. She wasn't sure how she felt about Hank Voight's company – especially if it was just the two of them in the house. He wasn't the most chatty or friendly person she'd ever met – even for a male prototype cop.

But he gestured for her to follow again. He stopped and popped into the darkened living space, twisting a switch on a floor lamp to light it up. She gazed into it as it did.

She'd briefly seen his home in the summer but really hadn't let her or her family be inside the house – keeping them on the back porch for most of the short visit. She barely had time to do her instinctual observation of the still near immaculate space, though, before he moved back by her and again gestured dismissively.

"Ignore the mess," he muttered. "Haven't been here in a couple days with all the shit going on."

Olivia snorted at that and followed after his prowl. "If this is your definition of messy, I don't think I'll ever be able to return the dinner invite. Our place isn't this clean even after we've cleaned it."

He cast her an amused look but then tripped over something – perfect timing to prove his point that the place must be a disaster if something was so much as out of place. He glared at the floor, Olivia's eyes following his in time to see him kick aside a knotted dog chew toy.

"Did you get a dog, Hank?" she asked, when he didn't provide further explanation beyond getting it out of the way.

"Mmm," he grunted again. "Erin dragged one home for Magoo … Ethan … just after the holidays."

Olivia let out a small-amused noise at that. She wasn't sure she saw Hank Voight as a dog person – at all. But with the small glimpses she got of him on their cases that crossed-over, she still had some trouble seeing him as a family person at all – a dad – to imagine one of his older kids bringing home a dog for the younger kid. She wasn't sure she'd have wanted to witness how that went over. Though, from the very brief glimpses she'd gotten of his family life, she got the sense that his bark was a little worse than his bite when it came to his kids – and that they definitely knew how to play him. Kids were good at that. She understood.

"You OK with dogs?" he asked as they passed through his dining room, Olivia glancing around the room.

She was again amazed at how clean it was. But what still stood out to her on this second walk-through of his home she was getting was how it was so clearly decorated by a woman. The art on the walls, the furniture, even the paint – it all had a feminine touch. A sensibility to it that she had trouble believing that a man like Hank Voight would've contributed to beyond being the one to manage the paint roller with the pre-picked cans or following instructions about where to deposit each piece of furniture as he did the grunt work of a room's rearrangement.

He'd told her previously that his wife had been gone for five years. That was nearly a year ago. It'd be almost six now. And, she suspected that not a thing in that house had moved since the woman's death.

"I'm good with dogs," she provided.

She heard endlessly about dogs. They got to annoy a lot of people on the street as her children tried to pet each and every one no matter how apparent it was that the owners didn't want them to – or how much she lectured them about not just petting every dog they saw. The advent of Paw Patrol had only made things worse. Now dogs were heroes. If her kids had their way, there'd be a dog in their home too. But she'd likely blow a gusset if that ever happened. Two small children and a dog? That sounded awful to her. Her disaster zone would likely officially become a disaster zone – FEMA acknowledged - if a dog was added to the mix.

Voight just grunted again. "It's not here right now …"

She followed him into the kitchen – the most lit up space she'd seen – and where he'd clearly been since getting in the house. Grocery bags were still on the counter. It looked like he was just unpacking them as he went – the starts of a meal already in the works on the countertop and stovetop.

"Is anyone here right now?" she asked, though, at the also vacant space.

He shook his head, as he started to work on getting the cork to pop on the wine. "Ethan will be rolling in any minute," he muttered as he got the bottle open and only then went looking for a glass in a cupboard. It looked like he hadn't had to use a wine glass in a while because he seemed to open the wrong cupboard first and after gazing at it for a moment, pulled open its neighbor, shaking his head. Maybe it was more that someone hadn't put something in the exact right spot. Which seemed like a mortal sin in the Voight house based on how the home clearly had a place and proper spot for everything.

Olivia glanced around the kitchen again, wandering the large space. She couldn't imagine having a kitchen this big. This much counter space. Cupboard space. That's the kind of thing that's just unheard of in New York City. Though she was sure even if they could have a place this big it'd be as much as a disaster as their kitchen was now. Counters covered in crap – constantly. Toys and homework and leftovers everywhere. She didn't even try for order and organization anymore. Her and Brian usually just cleared a small space – whether it was on the kitchen counter or the couch – when the kids were actually asleep and they could sit down and watch TV … or eat or talk.

"This kitchen is amazing," she told him genuinely.

He gave her an amused look as he handed her a glass of wine. "Wish Camille … my wife … was around to hear that," he said and gestured somewhat dismissively at the space. "Hated this room. One of our biggest rooms in the house but poor use of space, she said." Olivia offered him a smile at that. But Hank was gazing off at the counter space that wrapped around the corner and the one wall. "Tried to get her to like it a bit more. Put in new cupboards for her."

"Hmm …" Olivia acknowledged with a nod. She'd allow that even though the space was large, it was likely a rather strange arrangement. Lots of vacancy in the middle of the room and near nothing on the one side of the room with the small dining table. And all the appliances were clearly dated. And Olivia wasn't sure she would've picked yellow for any kind of walls. And, though, the cupboards were clearly the nicest feature of the room – the vinyl white countertop hadn't been updated. Still, the workmanship looked sturdy, but the cupboards themselves were clearly cheap. Nothing fancy. But she wouldn't say that there was much of anything too fancy about Hank Voight. "She a neat freak too?" she tried to tease.

He accepted the small jab and made a thin smile – though, not at her. Olivia could tell she'd triggered something and he was thinking of his lost wife. But he seemed to pull out of it and gave a little shrug. "Maybe I was just giving her something to put all her crap in and get it off the counters," he offered.

Olivia gave a small smile at that and took a sip of her wine. He hadn't poured himself a glass but she saw that he'd already started on his own glass of whiskey before she'd gotten there. It was that kind of day.

"Oh, are cupboards the secret to getting counter space?" she joked back. "I should get Brian on that."

Hank gave her a thin-lipped acknowledgement. "Weren't you looking for a new place in the summer?"

"We were," she allowed.

"That happen?"

"It did," she nodded.

"How's that?" Hank asked, though, turned back to his food. He was likely only so interested. She didn't blame him. Anyone's move is only so interesting.

So she shrugged. "It's good," she allowed. "It's nice to have a bit more space. But it's an adjustment."

"Mmm…" Hank grunted, as he worked at rolling together some meatballs, placing them in a hot pan on the stove. "Some condo development you were looking at?"

"We were," she acknowledged. "But ended up going with something a bit more practical." He glanced over his shoulder at her and she shrugged. "We ended up closer to his mom and my former Captain. Our babysitters." He snorted some amusement at that. "Lived in Manhattan my whole life – so it's a bit of an adjustment. For everyone."

He just grunted and went back to his work – again. There was so much more she could say about it. The good, the bad, the ugly of the move. The adjustments it was taking. What they were learning about each other and their kids and functioning as a family. How the new location – and situation – affected her work. And affected his. But Hank Voight wasn't the kind of person you talked about any of that over a glass of wine with – no matter what kind of day you'd just had … or month … or year … and what it had you thinking about. Most of those things she didn't really want to think about anyways – especially while there was an open bottle on the go.

"I was actually thinking about Ethan a while ago," she said, shifting the topic – and her thoughts. He gave her another look – this time furrowing his brow in a small question but gestured in invitation for her to pull up a chair at the small two-seater table in the room. She wandered over slowly as he looked back to whatever he was working on the stove. It smelled good. "The titanosaur exhibit opened at the Natural History Museum. I was wondering if that'd put New York in any better standing in his city ranking scheme."

Hank allowed her another thin-lipped smile at that. "He's been talkin' about that," he allowed. "Wants to see it. You been over yet?"

Olivia shook her head and took a sip of the red. "Not yet. It's on the agenda. Things have been … hectic."

"Mmm …," he grunted and nodded.

It was an understatement. The New Year so far had been beyond hectic for SVU and her family. It was a tizzy. But she knew his agreement was simply to the past three days.

"How is he?" she asked more gently.

She knew Hank had had a scare. She could see it in him. She knew what it was like well enough to see the signs – no matter how good he was at masking it. Hard to mask it when part of the scare was in the same room as them. Working the case with them. And they were one of your own – not just in the squad room. She didn't know how he did that. She couldn't. And then with how it all had played out …

"He's OK," Hank allowed and shrugged.

"I've had some of my cases follow me home," she allowed. "But follow the kids home …" she shook her head. The thought terrified her. It was something she worried about more than she should. Sometimes she feared she thought about the possibility so much that it was just a matter of time before it became a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Hank gazed at her for a long beat but then just shrugged – again an effort to hide the fact that a serial killer had been in one of his children's homes. That he'd been after his family.

"We just don't take chances with these things anymore," he rasped. "Not when someone's coming at the family. And Erin's over here enough. This being 'home' and that psychopath's 'home' thing. So got E set up somewhere safe for a couple nights until we shut it down. But he's fine. Understands."

Olivia nodded. She wasn't sure a twelve-year-old boy should have to 'understand' any of that. But then again she didn't think her two little ones should have to understand some of the things they were forced to understand too – or at least accept. And, 'shut it down' was really a mild way to put it. But it was over. She'd give him that.

But he'd likely be carrying that with him too. She imagined Erin Lindsay would be too. She didn't want to imagine what this had stirred up in the young detective – but she could imagine. Unfortunately. Thankfully, she knew that Erin had good support – on the job and at home. That made all the difference. Olivia hadn't had that and she knew she'd fallen down some of her rabbit holes in her career.

"Is Erin alright?" Olivia tried.

Hank just made an almost indiscernible shrug. Like he didn't know how to answer. Or he just didn't want to. She couldn't blame him for that either.

"She will be," he allowed and turned back to the stove again. "She might be around. Ethan will be anxious to see her."

She allowed another little nod. She didn't think it would be just the boy who was anxious to see her. She'd watched Hank's face as Erin had beelined out of the bullpen when it was all said and done – not talking to anyone. Detective Halstead casting Hank a look before following after her. The squad trying to make it look like it was just them wrapping things up for the day. Another case shut. But Olivia knew that this case wasn't one that just shut. And that the way it shut wasn't a neat said and done.

But she let it drop. There was really only so much she could say. And Hank clearly didn't want to delve into it more. Another thing she couldn't blame him for. He came across as a very private person. And she appreciated that. She was the same way. And he was clearly fiercely protective of that privacy – and the privacy of his children and family.

But she had some inkling that his protection his comment about 'not when someone's coming at your family' ran deeper. She'd asked around enough about him that she'd heard the murmured back story. How his wife had died. Why the side of his son's face – and she assumed the rest of his body – was so scarred. Though he hadn't offered any details and it wasn't her place to bring it up.

Really she could accept that having someone come at your family is terrifying enough. It was one of her worst nightmares. She'd had it all flash before her eyes in January in her own hostage situation and threats against her children's lives. She still feared that at some point someone would come after her – and end up in her home while the kids were there. Or worse – while the kids were there and she wasn't. It'd be beyond terrifying. Her only solitude was in knowing that none of that had happened for years now. And, really, she was in a position now that she wasn't on the front lines enough to be the face or badge some psycho chased after. But there was Brian. And, sometimes she wondered about the kinds of psychos that might follow him home one day – because they'd more than likely be the ones with charisma … and badges and guns. The kind of people her kids were likely to open the door for and the kind of people who already had everything to lose. And that was almost even more terrifying.

But losing any of your family to one of those psychopaths? That she didn't even want to imagine. She couldn't fathom going through that and still going on. And still going on any time one of those psychos popped up in your family's life again – whether it was on the job … or part of the job … or not. All the emotions that would bring up. Who that would make you. She actually thought it explained a lot about who Hank Voight was. How he was. How he interacted with perps. His methods. He didn't take chances. He didn't have patience. And he shut it down by whatever means necessary. She'd seen that again this case.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" she offered instead, though, because it was what she could find to say. She knew he'd take it as the meal – but she meant more than that. If Erin needed someone else to talk to. Another female cop – who'd be there. To some extent. Though, not in quite the same way as Detective Lindsay had just gone through. Not the level of loss she'd experienced while being at the center of it in so many ways.

Hank just shot her a look though and shook his head, again gesturing at the chair and the little table. She nodded and started to wander towards it.

"Gonna have to forgive the food," he said. "Went with quick and easy."

She allowed him a little smile at that and gave her outward palm a shake. "I understand – and I'm not going to turn down a free meal. It smells great."

He just grunted. "Just meatballs," he mumbled. "Something E will eat. Hard to feed him."

She made a little sound as she stood and examined the framed photos he had lining the old farmhouse cabinet against the wall.

"Sounds like my oldest," she allowed as she gazed at the photos. It was almost surreal to see photos of a much younger Erin Lindsay all smiles with her father or others with her brothers. Then there were ones with little boys and a radiant blonde woman that looked so young and full of life too – and who had to be Hank's lost wife. "Whenever he's home, all he wants is spaghetti and meatballs," she said and cast him a look. "And Caesar salad."

Hank let out a small sound. "You're in luck. Making ya that too. Minus the dressing and the croutons. Magoo won't touch those."

She just gave him a smile and turned and reached to lift the one photo. "Is this your new grandson?" she asked.

He glanced at her and gave a little nod, pointing at it. "Henry," he said.

"Ah…" she said giving him a smile and looking back at the shot that had clearly been done by someone with some photography experience – if not a studio. It was a beautiful black and white of the baby who couldn't have been much more than a newborn in it. "Named after grandpa?"

"Mmm…" he grunted. "Poor kid."

Olivia just gave him a smile at that. She actually thought Henry was a cute name for a little boy. Maybe Hank for an adult man – not so much. But she still thought there was a definite honor to a son wanting to name their child after their father. It was likely telling.

"How many months is he?" she asked.

"Six," Hank said – clearly not even having to think on it a beat. "Almost seven." He walked over to her, his hand in his back pocket, digging out his phone. "He's only a few weeks in that one." He gazed at the screen of his phone, thumbing around and then handed to her. "My son and his wife had him home at Christmas."

She gave him another thin smile and did finally sit at the table to flip through the photos that he was clearly showing off as a proud Popa – of the father and grandfather variety. She could partially understand that too. She had quite the collection of her kids in her pocket too.

She smiled and glanced at the toy dinosaur she spotted sitting on the kitchen table. It was at least a foot tall, ugly, and sitting there grinning at her – or more likely drooling at her. Though, she'd spotted a photo in the Christmas collection that Hank had handed her with Ethan drooling over it just as much. The boy looked delighted with the toy.

But she found herself looking at him in the picture. He looked thin and pale – almost translucent really. The clothes he had in the photos were just hanging off him. And despite the happy look on his face – really on all of Hank's family's faces – the young boy was clearly sick. Far sicker than the kid she'd met in the summer. That kid had been going off to baseball practice and trying to climb on the roof of the shed outback to set-up a vantage point for a water war.

She moved her eyes from the toy – that clearly barely six weeks since Christmas, was already showing signs of being well-loved and was possibly the favorite gift of the season based on the fact it was apparently obliged to watch them eat. She eyed Hank but he'd gone back to his chopping and tossing the dicing into a simmering sauce pan.

"You think things are going to be cleaned up enough that you'll get the long weekend? See them again?" she asked.

He glanced back over at her. "I'd booked the Monday," he muttered. "But the plan was to be takin' E fishing—"

"Fishing?" she interrupted with some confusion. She'd definitely been schooled on why Chicago was the Windy City on this trip. She would not want to spend a winter in the city – and would definitely not want to spend free-time fishing in this kind of weather. Who fished in the winter?

"Ice fishing," he clarified.

Olivia made a face. "That sounds awful," she said flatly. But she actually thought it sounded like something that Jack and Brian would likely sign up for in a minute. Cragen too. Hank really should come to New York for a weekend and meet her guys. Though, they might find too much to talk about and too much in common – which she found a little concerning in its own way too.

"Mmm …" he grunted with some amusement to it. She got the sense that other people – likely women … probably Lindsay – had expressed similar distaste to him about the prospects of that trip. She'd definitely noticed that Erin hadn't been mentioned in an inclusion on the outing and she doubted that she minded too much. Ice fishing sounded like a boys' getaway. "Might not go now. Will have to see where things are at."

She suspected he didn't just mean with the paperwork and Chicago's own One PP breathing down their necks. Erin had run out of the bullpen so quickly after getting squared away, Olivia doubted that Hank had had any sort of opportunity to speak to her. As a boss – maybe. And he'd likely gotten a read on where she was in in that. But as her father? Olivia didn't get the sense that had happened. But she suspected that the whole family was probably going to need each other in the next while to pull through.

She knew she had in January after her ordeal. Not that she'd done the best job of dealing with that or talking about it. It was something her – and Brian and the kids were all still working through. It'd take a while. And this definitely would for the Intelligence Unit – and Voight and Lindsay too.

There was clatter at the front door and a man's voice, "You sure we shouldn't knock or something?" he'd asked rather unsurely followed by a woman's voice that seemed familiar: "It's his house." The rustle was accompanied by the clicks of scurrying clawed feet on the hardwood floors and within moments a hulking puppy had appeared in the kitchen. It'd quickly found Olivia, jumping up on her knee and screwing its head around looking for attention while its tongue wagged out of its mouth.

"Bear! Get down," Hank had barked louder than the puppy could likely manage. But it certainly heard and jumped off her knee but she bent to continue to stroke at its bent head. He clearly knew he was in trouble and being chastised – likely done something he'd been told not to many times before.

"It's OK," she assured him. Though, she wasn't sure if the him she was assuring was Hank or the puppy.

There was more clicking and a call down the hall of, "Ethan, you should take off your boots" and a heavy sigh when it was clear from the movement the boy wasn't listening.

"Should we take off our shoes?" that unsure voice had asked again.

"Yes, Randy," the woman had huffed annoyed and it was that tone that made Olivia realize that it was Desk Sergeant Platt who was in Hank's front hall. "If you're planning on coming beyond the front door."

Olivia had cast Hank a look but he was already moving toward the entrance of the kitchen and had completely engulfed his youngest child in a tight hug – his boy pressed against him.

"I think maybe I should … just … stay put …," Randy had tried to whisper but seemed in capable of doing based on the smoky rasp in his tenor.

"You don't have to act so scared of him," Olivia had heard Platt huff annoyedly at the man. But her attention had really set on Hank and his son.

"Hey, Magoo," he muttered at the kid.

The embrace they were sharing was one she knew that could only be experienced between parent and child. She was familiar with it. And it wasn't just her. She'd seen the way the little ones clung to him if he was kept away from home for any overnight with his work. Though she usually managed to avoid that anymore, she still hadn't been able to let go of her kids after the townhouse incident. She'd hugged them so tight and when Jack had come home to check on her, he'd clung to her just as firmly and expressed his worry while she reassured him that she was fine. But kids that age – she didn't think they believed it. She wasn't sure Ethan would believe everything was just 'fine' with his father and his older sister when he saw her either.

Olivia smiled softly at the display but found her eyes drifting as she realized the boy's arms, which were wrapped around his father, had forearm crutches dangling from them. That was new. He hadn't had those in the summer. He'd seemed a little off in the summer but this clearly indicated that maybe more had been wrong – or had gone wrong – since the last time she'd seen the child.

Hank loosened the embrace a bit, letting his one arm drop - though the kid stayed wrapped around him – as Sergeant Platt ended up at the doorway.

"You've officially earned a temporary pass from me giving you flak about that sunny disposition of yours every morning," Platt said a little breathlessly and shook her head at the kid. "I don't know how you do this every day, Hank."

Olivia let out a little snort at that. She knew that feeling too. Exhaustion. Kids and the job was hard work. Kids and the job as a single parent – very hard work. Though, it looked like Hank had some good support.

Olivia was almost surprised to see it was Trudy Platt who was bringing his son in the door – who had clearly been the 'safe place', Hank had had his boy stashed while they dealt with Yates. But she also knew she likely shouldn't be. When you spend long enough in the same precinct – or district – you seemed to create relationships that ran stronger than blood.

But Platt heard her sound and looked around Hank and gazed at her for a moment, Olivia holding up her hand in greeting and offering a quiet 'hi', but Platt just nodded and then looked at Hank like she was weighing that.

Ethan gazed too – but his eyes seemed to fall on the dinosaur rather than her and let go of his dad clicking over. "YOU FOUND HER," Ethan blurted – completely ignoring her and grabbing the toy off the table. "I sent you so many texts about her."

Hank glanced over his shoulder. "Ethan, when did I have time to be coming back here to look for the fucking dinosaur?"

"Dad! You made me leave so fast I forgot her!"

"You didn't forget the thing. It was right there on the table like it always is," he muttered.

"Yea! Because breakfast is gross. You want me to eat gross – I need Indominus Erin."

Olivia let out another quiet amused sound at that pronunciation but the boy shot her another look – that was really more of a glare. He clearly hadn't yet perfected the glare game that his father and sister were so versed in, though. It wasn't that intimidating.

"Hey," Hank barked again, catching the look the kid was giving her. "Be polite. Say hello."

He squinted at her in an unimpressed look that she was rather familiar with. Apparently the stink eye was something that all little boys perfected. "Hello."

"Hi, Ethan," she smiled at him – ignoring the stony look she was getting. He was clearly unimpressed he was having to share his dad's attention on his homecoming.

But Hank was already done with observing their exchange and Ethan was done with her, navigating with the crutches back toward where his father and Platt were in the doorway.

"I take it he didn't eat breakfast for you?" Hank put flatly to Platt, who just raised an eyebrow in a skewed face as she cast a look to the oncoming boy, that clearly stated that the kid was a mule. Olivia wouldn't doubt it. She'd seen his father … and his sister … in action. But Hank just cast his boy another unimpressed look before looking back to Platt again. "You and Randy staying for dinner too?" he rasped at her. Clearly shutting down an obtuse interpretation of Olivia's presence.

She shook her head and started to dig through the backpack she held in her hand. "I'm loath to turn down your cooking, Hank, but we've got Battle of the Badges to get to. We organized it. Gotta be there."

"Mmm …" he grunted. "You know if Lindsay bought a ticket?"

Platt glanced from her rummaging. "She did," she muttered. "But she shouldn't feel like she needs to come."

"Mmm …" Hank grunted again. "I don't know where she headed after shift."

"Oh," Platt gaped at him. "Ah … well … we didn't see her at … the … thing …?"

"We WON, Dad," Ethan put to him, looking up at him with the biggest, proudest eyes – the dinosaur he'd seemed so interested in moments ago now forgotten.

"Hmm …" Hank said, giving him the kind of faux impressed look that Olivia knew only parents could really pull off as he scruffed at the boy's messy hair.

Olivia only then realized Ethan was clearly in an ungodly-colored maroon private school uniform – and somehow that surprised her too. Or maybe it didn't. She'd thought repeatedly about sending her kids to private school. But the expense on a cop's salary? Even if they had two cops' salaries to work with these days. It was just outside their reach – especially with the new living situation. She supposed, though, things were cheaper in Chicago?

"I don't have a clue what we were watching," Platt said, still rummaging in the bag. "But he assures me they won."

It made Olivia wonder exactly what it was that the kid was involved in. Because she wasn't sure she could see the boy in front of there then as engaged in any sort of sports. How could he be?

Hank let an amused noise and Ethan looked up at him again. "We scored way more points than our first game, Dad."

"Good," Hank rasped at him. "Proud of you. Sorry I couldn't be there tonight, Kiddo."

"Is the case done?" Ethan asked, giving his dad a careful examination. Clearly looking for any fibs his father might try to get by him. Olivia wondered how many little white lies and stretches of the truth he did manage to get by a kid that age. She knew it had always been hard with Jack – and now with him a full-fledged 'adult', it was near impossible. Sadly, even her little boy – at all of seven – had become attuned enough to Mommy and Brian's jobs that he could usually sense when the truth was being skewed a bit to protect him and his siblings. It was a sad reality of a police family. Weighing the fear and the protective instinct in what you told your kids and what you didn't. There was no easy way around it and no right way to handle it. You just had to do the best you could. Try to be as honest as possible without causing them undo worry and stress.

"Yea," Hank grunted. "So I'll get to your next one."

"You got him?" Ethan asked, giving him this look of admiration again.

"Yea …" Hank said a little more carefully and seemed to hold his son a bit tighter. "We got him …"

Ethan just nodded against him as Platt finally pulled out what she was looking for. "So this is the homework he didn't to last night and they sent it home with him again tonight," she said, handing Hank a packet of papers. He gave his son an unimpressed look but Ethan looked away.

"What'd I tell you?" he asked bluntly.

"I behaved," he mumbled, his arms starting to slump off his dad.

"Doing your homework is behaving," he said. "Eating your breakfast."

Ethan let out a little sigh but Platt just held out another packet. "I had some teacher chase me down to give this to me. It's a study packet for a test …?" she asked, shrugging and looking to Ethan for clarification but the boy just shrugged too.

Hank nodded, though. "I'll take a look," he assured.

"The teacher seemed pretty adamant you're supposed to call them before the weekend," Platt added.

"What's this all about?" Hank put to his kid.

But Ethan only shrugged again. "Some test in social studies next week."

Hank grunted and gazed at it, flipping through the pages in it. Looked like quite the study guide, if that's what it was. But Platt dangled a large freezer bag in front of him just stuffed with prescription pill bottles.

"Bag and tag," she muttered and Hank took it.

"Thanks," he muttered.

Platt nodded and pulled some other little zippered case out of the bag, handing it to him. "He wouldn't do this himself," she said, both her and Hank casting Ethan a look and him looking away even more. "So we took him over to 51 last night and Sylvie Brett did it. But didn't have time tonight …"

Hank nodded, though he was clearly giving his son a look that indicated he wasn't happy about that – whatever that was. "Got it covered. Thanks, Trudy."

She just nodded too and gave Ethan a small smile. "He wasn't too much trouble."

"Mmm …" Hank allowed and gave his son a little jostle. "He was supposed to be no trouble." He looked at his kid. "Go get changed. I'll come give you your meds in a few."

Ethan gave a little nod and looked at Platt as he started to navigate away. "Thank you for letting me stay with you."

"No problem," she said, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You come back and visit whenever you want. Just remember I want you working on this robot stuff – so you're taking Mouse's job, not mine."

Ethan gave her a look. "You'll be retired before I can have your job," he provided.

Platt gave him a slightly offended look. "Just how old do you think I am?"

The boy shrugged. "As old as dad."

"Oh, right," Platt nodded. "Ancient."

Ethan smiled brightly and shrugged but Hank just gave him another little knock to get him moving. Him and Platt following down the hall and them out of Olivia's sight, though she could still hear them.

"Thanks, Randy," Hank said further up the hall again. "Really appreciate you and Trudy watching him for me."

It sounded like the guy Platt was with stumbled over himself again and didn't manage to get any acknowledgement out before Trudy was telling him to be a gentlemen and get the car running again. There seemed to be more bumbling around as he followed up on that order.

It made Olivia smile a bit – wondering about exactly what kind of man would be with Sergeant Platt. But she shouldn't wonder too harshly. People probably wondered the exact same thing about her too and cast assumptions on Brian for him putting up with her. Though, she liked to think it was her who put up with him in a lot of cases.

"His bag," Olivia heard Trudy say again as the front door opened and closed. Her voice lowered a little but she also heard, "Had a bit of an … episode last night. Didn't let us know, though. So we just found the laundry in the morning. Put it in the wash so I'll bring in his clothes as soon as they're dried up."

Hank made a little sound. "Sorry about that."

Trudy made a dismissive sound. "He was fine," she stressed. "He's a real nice kid, Hank. You know that."

"Yea … I do …" The door opened again. "Good luck with the fundraiser."

"We've got it covered," she said. "Antonio …"

Hank made an amused sound. "Fire doesn't know what's coming."

The door shut and Hank reappeared in the kitchen, dropping the schoolwork on one counter and opening a cupboard door to deposit the baggie of pills in another.

"Not my business …" Olivia started and he gave her a look – there was clearly some unimpressedness to it. Almost a challenge for her to continue, but she did. "Is your son OK?"

He made another dismissive gesture. "Yea …" he acknowledged.

"The crutches …" Olivia tried to press gently.

Hank just grunted. "Multiple sclerosis," he said. "Had a flare in December. One leg really hasn't been working right since. Just make it easier for him to get around."

Olivia nodded but in truth she didn't know what to say. She wanted to say something but felt like anything she said would seem very empty and she didn't think Hank Voight was the kind of person who tolerated those kinds of platitudes very well.

"I didn't know you were so close with Platt," she said instead.

"Yea …" he allowed again, washing his hands and returning to his cooking. "Known each other most of our careers. Same year at the Academy. Tough lady. Known the kids since … always."

Olivia allowed him a small smile. But her eyes drifted as the front door opened again. She watched as Erin Lindsay came in and didn't even stop to take off her coat or boots before stomping up the stairs – and likely trailing snow, salt, gravel along with her. But Hank just moved to look down the hall too and didn't give comment.

Jay Halstead came in behind her and gazed after her up the stairs but just have his head a little shake and did remove his boots before coming into the kitchen. He examined her for a moment, giving her a small nod but then went to Hank, setting something on the counter.

"Definitely a brownie night," he said.

Hank grunted and looked at the bag of desserts that had been provided. "Thanks for getting her home."

"Yea … she was at Molly's," Halstead said.

Another grunt. "Charles there?" Halstead just raised his eyebrow at that and Hank grunted again.

"She decided she wanted to check in on Eth," Halstead said and pointed up the front hall. "Don't think she's planning on hanging around long. But I think I should let her know you've got company."

"Yea …" Hank grunted.

Halstead moved from where he was leaning against the counter but Hank reached and smacked the little zippered pack into the young man's chest. "If her hands are steady, see if she can do that for him."

Halstead gazed at the little pack but nodded. "Yea," he acknowledged. "She not up to it, I can give him his injection."

Hank just allowed a little nod and Halstead walked back by her, giving her another little nod. "Lieutenant," he managed that time.

"Detective …" she allowed and let her eyes follow him down the hall as he left and mounted the stairs. Her eyes drifted back to Hank but he was again puttering on his meal. "Hank … I can go," she offered.

But he looked at her and shook his head, again making another gesture like none of this was a big deal. "Nah," he said. "This is just what evenings look like 'round here anymore. Don't worry about it. They'll all be back down in a bit. Friendlier."

"You don't don't need to put on happy faces for my sake," she said.

But he shrugged. "Not. Just our dynamics. They're interesting."

She allowed a small smile at that. They certainly were. But she supposed they seemed to work?

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Just to address a couple things. First, I've gotten some criticism about the possibility of Erin's past coming out of left field. Just wanted to clarify that in Season 1 (either episode 1 or 2), it was clear in Erin's C.I. file that she was picked up for solicitation. In legal crimes, that would mean she was offering up sex for crash. The other legal options that would fall under that area — coercion to commit a crime — likely wouldn't be plausible for a girl her age at the time. I think giving the circumstances around Erin's youth that she's described on the show it's fairly plausible that she traded her body at some point — in some way, and at that age it's more plausible it would've been in the realm of oral sex — to feed her mother's habits, protect herself (not be taken away from her mother/put into foster care or a group home) and to have income to eat, etc.**

 **I actually feel they've given us enough glimpses at Erin's past that a lot of her backstory is fairly predictable and transparent. I think it's more Jay's past that they've told us very little about (and seem to be rewriting parts of it as they fill out Will's character on Chicago Med). I'm more spitballing with his backstory than I am Erin's. But I do think they've crafted some interesting elements for him to have various reactions to and interactions with — which could be potentially telling to his character in the future. But — yes — I would agree that the introduction of a potential abuse/trauma of Jay is way more out of left field than Erin's. But I also don't feel it's completely implausible with how certain things have been presented on the show. Sorry if anyone feels it's too far out of plausibility for his character.**

 **Also — Erin and Jay not speaking together and having a rocky relationship in their engagement is purposeful. I feel it's an accurate reflection of them in the show. They're both very private. I think they need each other in their lives — and have a mutual agreement that they're not seeing anyone else and want to be 'together' but that they are also very career focused and oriented. The story has pushed that ahead and perhaps made them 'rush' into the relationship in a period where they both might've been afraid to lose each other. You'll have to wait to see how that plays out. But them having areas that they haven't talked about or aren't ready to talk about — despite the fact they are engaged in this story — is very purposeful. There's a reason to it and it's something the characters are meant to be evolving and realizing and making choices and decisions about as they move forward. Are they ready to let down walls and really be married? Or are they just afraid to let go or hurt the other? There's reason to the madness. This isn't supposed to be some easy love story where they are perfect together and going to live happily ever after. I don't think that's what you're going to see in the show either.**

 **Also — I thought it was really funny that this week's episode had the Erin taking the fry thing and the look on Jay's face. Personally, I thought that was a perfect follow to the "McFlurry" chapter. Erin smart-assedly twisting the knife. Jay's face said it all and I can just imagine the comment he would've had when they left the garage. I might do a recast of the scene and follow on it.**

 **That said — yes — I do plan to do a follow on the McFlurry chapter, and yes, it's not the last time Jay and Erin will be talking about this.**

 **But I am working on a variety of chapters right now. I know some of you hate that this story is "scenes" and not a continuous story. But I was upfront that that's how this collection of chapters was going to develop. Basically developing a continuous story can be tiresome and frustrating. I take the time to develop and see the scenes. If I can' see how it plays out and the dialogue within the scene — it might be a while before I write it. That gets frustrating and boring for me and causes me to delay writing anything. Just ask people who read my SVU series. I've tried to do stories continuously there and I hit points where I may have ideas for other chapters or scenes down the road but since it's not happening "right then" in the story — they just don't get written and neither do the next chapters in the sequence either. It just hits a stand still because I'm bored with it.**

 **If I'm going to write this in sequence, then you'll be waiting weeks (or even months if SVU is any indication) before I feel inspired to do the next chapter in sequence. I venture that more of you are opposed to not getting an update that frequently then you are of things being out of order. Because infrequent updates can also lead to no updates the more bored I become with it and as I contribute to these stories for longer periods of time, the more boring it becomes. Right now jumping around and doing what inspires me in the moment, keeps me interested. Hoepfully that's beneficial to the majority of us.**

 **As a glimpse of what is on the go:**

 **-A chapter predominately focused on Burgess/Ruzek, but featuring Jay/Erin/Voight.**

 **-A follow with Ethan/Hank following them going over to Holly's parents house.**

 **-A chapter with Hank and Holly's mother talking.**

 **-A Hank/Erin chapter that would be set after the "McFlurry" incident and looking into her past a bit more.**

 **-A Jay/Erin chapter set after the McFlurry discussion.**

 **-A Jay/Hank chapter, featuring Ethan set at Father's Day and featuring a camping/fishing trip.**

 **-A possible Jay/Erin chapter set at the Father's Day weekend too.**

 **-A Erin/Hank chapter featuring them talking about Ethan's 13th birthday and also delving into some memories about Camille and Erin's teens at the Voight house.**

 **-Ethan's birthday, which again would predominately focus on Erin/Hank conversation but also just be some color and a lighter moment in terms of Ethan having some fun and being a kid his age.**

 **-A chapter of them going to Ethan's RoboWars thing for the first time. It'd at least feature Hank and would likely also feature Erin/Jay and Mouse but not sure.**

 **-A chapter of Ethan's RoboWars in St. Louis, which would predominantly feature Hank/Erin.**

 **-Also planning an Easter chapter but haven't decided how to do it. If it would be Hank/Ethan alone at the house, if Hank would've gone to see Justin/Olive/Henry so it'd be Ethan/Erin and likely Jay, if Hank might've offered to pay for Olive/Henry to come to visit, etc. If anyone has any thoughts or preferences let me know.**

 **I'm also playing with a concept for a Hank/Dr. Charles chapter but haven't completely played out what it might look like yet. And I've been interested in the suggestions of the Erin/Jay pregnancy scare or an Erin/Ethan chapter after her getting hurt or a Jay/Hank chapter related to him helping out with Ethan when Erin has a cold/flu. I think those are interesting ideas and scenario to explore but haven't entirely worked them out in my head yet.**

 **Also after writing this chapter and with how I assume next week's crossover episode is going to play out, I might end up doing a Valentine's Day chapter with Jay/Erin, even though I had previously felt it'd been pretty much covered.**

 **I also feel like there hasn't been a real Hank/Ethan or Erin/Ethan moment for a while and am thinking about ideas for that too.**

 **Anyways — that's not the order that things will necessarily get written. But if people have any thoughts, opinions or preferences, let me know. I'll take them under consideration. Keep up the ideas and suggestions too. I consider them and might do them depending on how closely they mirror how I perceive the CPD universe and this AU.**

 **Thanks for reading — and reviewing.**


	51. The Highlight

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Not sure where this one might get moved eventually. It happens likely a few weeks into the future from where the story is.**

 **CHAPTERS 37, 40, 41, 42 and 43 have all been posted in the past 36 hours and a lot of people missed them based on counts. 37 - Tough Questions - Erin/Hank/Jay, 40 - Stories - Ethan/Erin, 41 - To Owen - Jay/Will, 42 - Mentoring - Hank/Mouse, 43 - Tactical Combat - Erin/Jay/Ethan**

"So did you actually go ice fishing on this trip?" Erin smiled at Ethan as there was finally a lull in the conversation.

Hank grunted some amusement at that from where he was sitting in over in her chair (that he usually hated and complained about – "Why didn't you get a fucking armchair? What is this?") and staring at the Hawks game on the TV on mute – like he was actually watching it and not listening to Ethan's rendition of their weekend away.

It'd sounded like it'd been a pretty epic trip – for a twelve year old. Maybe not so much for Hank. But he didn't look too worse for the wear. Though, Hank had been through a lot worse than enduring a few days alone with his younger son and usually managed to come out of it visibly unscathed.

Ethan's depiction of their time away was actually pretty funny. She'd gotten told about their room – in epic detail – to the point that she'd found herself wondering if Ethan had actually been in a hotel room before. Because he'd seemed pretty taken with it.

The more she thought about it – the more she wasn't sure he would've been. Or at least not at a 'resort' – even if it was a very modest family-style inn trying to sell itself as a 'resort' to get some traffic from city dwellers looking for a nearby getaway. But she could really only think of a couple times that Hank and Camille would've had her and Justin in a hotel when they were teenagers too. They weren't the kind of family that really went on vacations or getaways. At least not that kind.

It wasn't like they didn't do nice things for their kids. Took them out to a few special events and activities during the year. It was just that they were generally the kind of things that would've been planned for and saved for and scheduled months ahead. Hank still tried to do that sort of thing for all of them. To make sure Ethan had some enrichment in his life. But taking him away for a weekend – when it wasn't summer and in a tent – was definitely a first for both of them. Maybe a first ever for Hank. And Ethan had clearly enjoyed the experience.

He'd been even more taken with the fact that they'd watched Friday night's game after they got settled in – "in the bar", he'd stressed like that was very grown up. And that it'd be "ALL YOU CAN EAT WINGS! And the kind of wings I could eat, Erin! And they had two sauces and one shaker I was allowed to have! And carrots! And celery."

"Wow …" she'd tried to feel the excitement. "How many did you eat?"

"A whooping nine," Hank had muttered from where he was sitting – even then acting like he was completely unengaged in this conversation. Just him and Bear – being manly guys, watching hockey, scratching each other. But the truth was that nine was pretty good for Eth anymore.

She'd also got to hear about the "indoor pool! Like inside the hotel, Erin! Not at their community center! AND! They showed movies at the pool AT NIGHT. So you could swim and watch the movie."

"Which he couldn't do because he was too cold in the heated pool," Hank again provided.

Erin just grinned at that. "Did you get in the water, Hank?" she put to him.

He just grunted so Ethan answered for him. "Yes. We went swimming on Friday after dinner and again on Saturday to watch the movie. But it was cold. So we went back to the room and we rented one instead. To watch in bed," he stressed even more like the novelty was again blowing his mind.

"Twenty bucks for a fucking movie and he fell asleep," Hank had again added.

Erin again tried to hide her smile and looked at Eth. "What movie?"

"Ant Man," he said firmly.

"Piece of shit," Hank said. "I don't know what happened to cinema. We're paying people millions of dollars to make this crap?"

"Hmm …" Erin had allowed. "You know with his tablet – you could've watched a movie for free on that?"

"Movies weren't made to watch on screens like that," Hank rasped.

Erin just rolled her eyes and looked back to her bouncing baby brother to hear the rest of his excitement. That they'd gone into the village and looked around the remaining snow sculptures from a contest earlier in the month. That a section of the lake had been cleared as a skating rink and he'd managed to get around a few times – with Hank's help. That there was a bonfire at the resort and you could make smores and have hot chocolate – but Hank hadn't let him: "Because sugar." But there had been a game room with a pool table, old arcade games and board games. That he "almost beat Dad but I scratched" and that "Parcheesi is pretty cool. It's sort of like Sorry. But better. And I won." He'd looked at his dad and gone "Sorry not sorry," clearly thinking he was being cheeky but it'd gotten a none reaction out of Hank who probably had never heard the line before or hadn't bothered to absorb it if he had.

It actually sounded like Hank had been exceedingly tolerant and patient with Ethan on the weekend. Which, Erin knew was a challenge for even the best of them. She tended to be more patient than Hank and even her patience wore thin with Ethan at times. But the level of his patience was probably further depicted when Ethan had stated, "And we had the Valentine's Day buffet."

"It was very romantic," Hank deadpanned from his corner again.

Erin had to try even harder not to laugh at that. But keeping a straight face with Ethan's rendition of the weekend was getting more difficult.

"Yea … was it good?" she asked, avoiding making eye contact with Hank because she knew if they did catch eyes, she would laugh and that might just shutdown Ethan from finishing the rest of this amusing rendition of his getaway with his dad.

"IT HAD A SALAD BAR!" Ethan near yelled at her in his excitement to tell her.

"A salad bar?" she put back to him in mock awe. "At a buffet?" The ridiculousness of how much Ethan had clearly loved it was making her smile more than she had in a while. She kind of hoped that despite Hank's Hank-like commentary, it'd gotten some smiles from him too. He really needed that.

"It was awesome," Ethan nodded in confirmation. It had beets. And oranges. But like the little oranges and with like the skin peeled off so it was like all the little bits from inside the slice of orange!"

"Wow …" Erin said and cast Hank a look at that. Not even trying to hide her amusement at that point.

"Good thing he's still twelve or it would've been a thirty dollar salad bar," Hank informed her.

She snorted some more amusement at that and looked back to her brother. "Did you just eat salad, Eth?"

"They had a baked potato bar too," he provided.

She really did laugh at that and Hank just shook his head. She was tempted to ask what he had but she didn't think it'd be nearly as interesting as Ethan's definition of a Valentine's Day meal.

"And when we got back to the room they'd brought us chocolate!" Ethan told her excited.

"Oh … that is romantic," she agreed and gave Hank another look. He ignored it.

"Yea," Ethan nodded. "It was super cool. Even the box was made of chocolate. Dad made us bring it home for you. It's in the car. DAD! We forgot it in the car!"

Hank glanced at him from his half-examination of the hockey game. "We'll grab it on the way out."

"What'd you do for Valentine's Day?" Ethan asked, looking at her excitedly. "I bet it wasn't as cool as ours."

Hank did make a sound at that and Erin glanced at him just in time to see him shaking his head in either annoyance or amusement – or a bit of both.

"It sounds like yours was pretty hard to compete with," Erin allowed.

"So what'd you do?" he asked.

"Hmm …," Erin shrugged. "We just had a quiet one. Stayed in. We didn't want to leave Bear all alone on Valentine's Day."

Ethan gazed at her. Clearly not buying it. But it was mostly the truth.

Her and Jay had done fuck-all all weekend – beyond fucking. They'd pretty much had a bed-in. It was the first weekend that had been work free, Hank free and Ethan free in seemingly months. And they'd needed that so badly. It wasn't until they were in the midst of the quiet alone time that she'd truly realized just how much they'd needed that space. That quiet. Any opportunity to spend some time together without any interruptions. To talk and not talk. To just be themselves and have the space to themselves.

They'd gone and grab some food and some drinks on Friday as soon as they'd gotten out of the District. They hadn't been that late. Not late in her former life. They were back to her place by about midnight. But they'd been exhausted and buzzed enough that falling into bed and cuddling had been more than enough. But they hadn't really left the bed then on Saturday at all. They'd lounged. They'd read. They'd eaten cereal in bed. Listened to music. They'd fooled around and orgasmed and then did it again. And again. Breaking it up with some more food and some mindless Netflix.

There'd been some point that they'd moved to the shower and gotten dressed – but it'd been the flat afternoon at that point. And seemingly the only reason was because they'd decided to take the puppy for a walk – rather than outside the door of her building – and they wanted something that better constituted dinner than what she had in her kitchen. They hadn't even really talked that first day of alone time. They'd just filled space together. Enjoyed the time together.

They'd managed to be more active on the Sunday – Valentine's Day – but it'd still been more of the active in bed variety. They hadn't gone out anywhere, though. They hadn't gotten each other schmaltzy cards or gifts. Jay had gone out for a run at one point and she'd taken the dog with her to pick up some groceries. They'd fumbled through making a ridiculously simple sprimp fettuccini alfredo together. With peas and broccoli and cheese. All things that Ethan wouldn't – or couldn't – eat and that they were usually way to lazy to bother cooking together on the times they did actually sit down to a meal together. And then they'd again ended up cuddled on the couch binge watching Narcos.

It again hadn't been a big day on talking. Just being together. It was a little strange. A quiet realization that maybe they hadn't done a lot of that. That most of their relationship had been around work – or giving each other support about situations at work. And then Jay giving her support with Ethan's transition back into the family's life and all that meant for her life. When they were together – and alone – it had usually been mostly rooted in the physical aspect of their relationship. But just being able to be that weekend that been refreshing. It felt like a confirmation of how much they could do this. Maybe more than she'd thought. It'd calmed some of her worries. Sometimes she wasn't sure if they could just fill space and share mundane, boring routines together without getting sick of each other pretty quick.

It'd just been a weekend. But it'd felt good. Right. Comfortable.

And having a day at work without Hank – knowing he'd taken it off as a day off, not because his child was in the hospital and that she'd be having to go there after shift too and have it lurking in her head all day, worrying – had been nice too. He'd taken President's Day since Ethan was off school. Give him and Ethan the whole weekend together – even if that might've been a little much by the sounds of it. But having space to exist and do their jobs – and interact with each other in their work environment – with out Hank hovering in the corner office had been a nice change too.

"Did he at least get you chocolate or something?" Ethan asked speculatively about her report of their 'quiet' dog-sitting weekend.

"Mmm …" she shrugged. "He brought ice cream …"

He had. From his run. Cherry Garcia and Half-Baked – because he couldn't decide which one she'd like better. Actually, she was pretty sure he'd decided she'd like the Cherry Garcia better but he'd wanted the Half-Baked. Which he'd proceeded to dig all the brownie bits out of. He really should've just bought a tray of brownies or some Betty Crocker boxed mix. But it'd been nice to just mindlessly pass the pints back and forth while they were watching their episodes. Until she'd realized there was no chocolate left in the Half-Baked.

"You mined all the good stuff out of this," she'd told him, as she eyed him working on just digging out the cherries and chocolate chunks out of Cherry Garcia then.

"No I didn't," he muttered, not even looking up from his efforts.

She'd shoved the container in his face to show him all the tunnels his spoon had made. "Where are the brownies?"

"Dig down deeper," he'd shrugged.

She'd huffed at him and tried to push some of the melting dairy around and then gapped at him. "Jay," she spat. "Did you dig out all the cookie dough too?"

"There's lots," he muttered at her and grabbed it back, trying to dig around and find a piece. Which he did. A miscible bit of cookie dough – not even a ball. A crumb. "There …"

She just gave him a dirty look and snatched the Cherry Garcia back from him. "Give me this," she said. "Before you mine it too."

"You get Ben and Jerry's to dig out the good stuff," he said. "Why else do you spend that kind of money on ice cream?"

"You're eating the mix-ins – not the ice cream. So you clearly shouldn't bother spending that kind of money on ice cream," she'd muttered at him accessing what he'd done to her Cherry Garcia in the few minutes he'd had it in his possession.

"You're paying for the experience. The thrill of the hunt," he'd told her flatly.

"I'm never sharing ice cream with you again," she'd informed him.

He just looked at her and held out the Half-Baked. "Trade?" he said.

She squinted at him. "No," she spat.

"You like the ice cream," he said. "This one's got exclusively ice cream in it at this point. That one still has good stuff."

She'd given him a look and shuffled down the couch at that. "Stay away from my Cherry."

He'd just snorted at that and given her a look. She'd given him a dirty one but his teasing eyes had just made her smile and shake her head and look away – back to watching the show.

And that had really been about as deep as any of their conversation had got. The zen of ice cream.

"It's winter," Ethan had informed her of Jay's dessert choice.

Erin shrugged at him. "I like ice cream."

"I think it's a good thing that we brought you back the chocolates – and I think me and Dad had a way better President's Day and Valentine's Day than you."

"Is that so?" Erin rolled her eyes. She wasn't sure she entirely agreed with him. She actually thought hers had been pretty good. A weekend in the snow just didn't compete with a weekend in bed with Jay.

"Yes," Ethan provided.

"So did you even go ice fishing?" she put to him. "Wasn't that the whole point of this trip?"

"Yea, we went ice fishing," Ethan said – apparently sufficiently distracted from her apparently pathetic Valentine's.

"And …?"

"EPIC!" Ethan told her, bouncing on the couch a bit. "OK! First! Erin, you get to drive to the spot on a four-wheeler! I had to ride with Dad but still dope. We went so fast and there was so much snow. And it was on the lake."

"Mmm …" Erin nodded. So far – sounded relatively awful to her. High-speed driving – kind of fun. On a frozen lake – in the snow and freezing weather and wind? Less fun.

"Then we got to go to two spots. The first spot was just like this tent thing. And we sat there forever but nothing was biting. So then they said we could go to this other spot so we got to go for another ride – like across the lake. And it was like this shack on the ice and it had like a hole and like a heater and chairs. It was pretty tight. It was like a cabin but on the ice with your own fishing hole!"

"Oh, that sounds fantastic …" Erin said and gave Hank a look.

"Nice set up," he provided, though. Like he actually liked it. Knowing Hank, he probably had. It was fishing. He likely didn't care it was fishing in the middle of winter. It was still fishing. It was on his list of things that were a productive use of time. How sitting in front of a hole with a line in the water hoping a fish might bite it qualified as a productive use of time – she'd never quite understood. But to each their own.

"So did the set you got Dad for Christmas work for this?" she asked – at least trying to be interested.

"Yea," Hank provided and got up to wander to the kitchen. She could tell he was about to check on the meal she was working on and probably take over – because that was Hank did in kitchens. And he'd likely felt she'd left it unsupervised far too long. "It's a nice little started kit for what we were doing. The guide that took us out had some other gear we could use. Might get some different lines and lures if we go out again but the kit did the job."

"We caught a walleye!" Ethan said. "And it was regulation size so we got to bring it in and there's like a café and they do like a real fish fry. Like when we go to the Friday Fish Fries at the cabin!"

"I forgot about those …" Erin said and cast Hank a small smile but he wasn't looking. He had the oven open. And she sighed. "Hank…" He glanced at her but turned to look for an oven holder.

"Yea, it was pretty good," Ethan said. "They did camp fire potatoes too. With onions. But those definitely weren't as good as Dad's. But they weren't on a camp fire."

Erin grunted some acknowledgement he'd spoken but she was already getting up and heading to the kitchen.

"Hank," she muttered at him, pushing him aside. He gave her a look. "I think I can manage baking some chicken quarters."

He grunted at her. "How long they been in?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "About thirty minutes."

"Mmm …" he said and glanced at the prep work she'd started before they'd ended up at her door – earlier than she'd expected. But apparently Hank wanted to collect the dog and get Ethan home early enough that he rested some before bed and wasn't a complete mess at school that week after his adventurous weekend. "You doing them as the Cajun bake?"

She gave him an annoyed look. Some how it pissed her off that he could tell what she was trying to do just by looking at the half-chopped ingredients she had on the counter. But why wouldn't he? It was a recipe they'd grown up with.

"You've gotta get the veggies and sauce simmering," he put to her. "And, you should be taking the foil off soon. Least the last fifteen minutes." He glanced at the temperature on her oven and then opened the door again. "This thing feels like it cooks hot."

"You can tell that by sticking your head in there?" she muttered at him.

He just shrugged. "Let me help you finish the prep. You get the sauce going."

"Hank, I know how to cook," she pressed at him, crossing her arms.

He just gave her a look. "Oh, I know how you cook," he said and gestured at the oven. "The meat's gonna be all dried out if you don't get moving."

She sighed at him and shrugged, shaking her head. "Fine …" she said and started in on warming the oil in the skillet – tossing in the garlic and shallots while he moved to make a space for himself on the counter and started dicing through the tomato, peppers and onions at a faster clip than she'd ever be able to.

She watched Ethan in the living space. He seemed undisrupted being left alone. Bear had moved over to the couch with him now that he wasn't getting Hank's attention and Ethan was doing his best to wind up the dog. Teasing him and scruffing at his ears, tugging at the knotted chew toy that Bear refused to drop.

"It seems like he did really well," Erin said, glancing at Hank over her shoulder. "Not exhausted."

"Mmm …" Hank grunted. "He slept on the ride back. Just excited to see the mutt and you. Think he'll crash when he starts coming down a bit."

"You kept him really busy …" she said, almost asked.

Hank just shrugged. "He wanted to," he said. "Sitting in the hotel room wouldn't have been that interesting."

"It sounds like he had a lot of fun, Hank," she tried encouragingly.

He gave a little nod. "I think so …"

Hank wouldn't ever verbalize it – not to her – but she knew he worried about things like that. Since their disastrous July, Hank had been trying to be a little softer with Ethan. Not doing as much of the tough love thing with him as he might've done with her and had most definitely done with Justin. He was still strict with Eth. But it was different. And it had to be. Their whole family structure was different and Ethan was a different kind of kid. But Erin also knew Hank had a bit of an insecurity about it. That he wanted Ethan to enjoy spending time with him too. That he wanted to have a better relationship with him and a strong foundation with him going into his teens. A level of trust and respect and communication. Erin thought they all realized they were going to need that to get through the coming years. But she saw glimpses of something different in Hank too. That he really needed it too. That he needed and wanted this son – his youngest – to need and want him and to not slip into that whole teenaged thing just yet.

"He did," she assured him. "You can tell."

"Mmm…" Hank grunted.

"You never took me and Justin on winter getaways," she teased.

He made a noise at that and gave her a look. "You know how much I listened to the two of you complain when we took you to the cabin in the summer? You think I wanted to listen to that noise in the winter? 'Pop, I'm cold. Pop, I'm bored'," he mimicked.

Erin cast him a look. She hoped that impression was more of Justin than her. "And telling me Ethan didn't complain at all?"

Hank made a face in the negative and shook his head. "Told me when he was cold and told me when he was in pain. Didn't hear a peep of the kind of whining and complaining I would've gotten from you two if I'd tried to do something like that you were his age."

Erin snorted and rolled her eyes. "Thanks, Hank …" He just shrugged. "Did you have fun?" her asked.

Hank just made a sound. 'Fun' wasn't really part of Hank's vocabulary. So Erin just shook her head at him. "Alright, Tough Guy …" she muttered.

He gave her a look. "It's nice to have him home and it's nice to get some time to be a father outside of the daily routine," he allowed.

"And it's nice to got freeze your nuts off in some shack in the middle of Lake Geneva?" she put to him.

He shrugged. "Likely the highlight."

She gave him a thin smile. "You did good, Hank," she told him. Because she knew no one else would. And she knew sometimes he needed to hear it. They all did.

 **CHAPTERS 37, 40, 41, 42 and 43 have all been posted in the past 36 hours and a lot of people missed them based on counts. 37 - Tough Questions - Erin/Hank/Jay, 40 - Stories - Ethan/Erin, 41 - To Owen - Jay/Will, 42 - Mentoring - Hank/Mouse, 43 - Tactical Combat - Erin/Jay/Ethan**


	52. The Point

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 49 - THE HIGHLIGHT.**

Erin gazed at Jay from her sandwich. He was completely enthralled with his Italian Beef. Staring at it like it was some kind of newborn baby – that he was so in love with that the only logical thing was to shove it in is mouth. He was so weird about food. His apartment was all this almond milk and protein powders and kale and nuts – and pretty much disgusting. Then on the job – he ate like a cop. A disgusting cop, actually. Maybe that's why he had to make up for it at home.

"Mouse might have a point, you know," she put to him.

He glanced at her, still chewing. "About what?" he said with his full mouth.

Sometimes he really seemed to care less about manners around her. But she supposed that said something about their relationship and comfort level with her. Or maybe manners just really weren't something that was required when you were eating in the car – in the District parking lot on something that only vaguely resembled a lunch break. Lunch breaks didn't really exist on their jobs. And this way they were close to the bullpen and ready to blot off wherever on a moment's notice. But something about it seemed pretty pathetic. She was pretty sure only other cops – maybe only each other – could really understand their lifestyle and get that this twenty minutes in a cold car together was about as close as they ever got to a brief romantic interlude on work hours.

"That we could use the cash," she put flatly.

"We?" Jay skewed an eyebrow at her and licked at the dripping grease on his fingers. Platt was going to be fucking pissed if they got grease all over the seats – or the car reeked of it. Even if it was Erin's usual take home vehicle.

Erin gave him an unimpressed look. "I thought you'd been saying you wanted to bulk up your savings so we could manage a downpayment."

He shrugged. "Or we could sell your condo and use that for a downpayment," he provided casting her a look.

"We?" she put back to him just as firmly as he'd put it to her before. "It's my condo, Jay. It's me who sells it – not we. But it's WE who put down a payment – not ME with MY condo money."

He gave her an annoyed look.

"And, WE," she stressed, "could save some money if YOU'D stop dropping rent and move in. You're there all the time anyways," she muttered and looked back to her own sandwich. His looked better but her intestines didn't do grease. Bad idea to ingest it at work when you never knew what your day was going to look like or how close to a bathroom you'd ever be. Or you'd have people doing their best to scare the shit out of you even when grease wasn't helping the situation.

"You're condo's too small to start a family in," he mumbled around his next bite of the sandwich.

She rolled her eyes at him. "It's not like there's a baby on board, Jay," she hissed. "You move in so we aren't spending money in two places. We live there for a year or two. Save up. Get a bigger place and then we can talk about kids."

"Oh, then we can talk about kids?" he put back to her. She gave him a glance. "Won't you be a little old then?" he half-ways teased. She gape-mouthed glared at him. "What? You'll be like … thirty-three? Thirty-four?"

She squinted at him. "And still fertile," she said with some disgust. "And I'll be more like thirty-two."

"Thirty-two?" Jay raised an eyebrow at her concrete pronunciation of her age. "Have you like picked out an age where you think you're going to be having a baby?"

She shrugged and picked at the tomato sticking out the end of her sandwich. "I don't know. Thirty-two just seems like a good age. Will have been on the job about a decade. Put in about five years as a detective. So putting in some time on a desk and taking a maternity leave isn't likely to completely derail my life."

Jay snorted at that and she looked at him sternly. "Completely derail your life?" he said. "That's how you feel about having a baby?"

She rolled her eyes. "That's not what I meant. I just meant … it will change things. A lot." And the truth was she wasn't ready for that yet. Enough was changing as it was. And it was already a lot. And then she just wasn't sure how good she'd be with a baby. Or Jay. Were they really baby people? Either of them? She wasn't so sure. But she just sighed at him and tired to change the subject. "OK, forget the down-payment. We could use the money for the wedding."

"Hmm …" Jay allowed between bites. "Because someone has decided they want a big to-do."

She drilled his eyes at him. "It's not a big to-do that I want. I just want something," she said and then gave him an even dirtier look. "And, it's not just about me or us, Jay."

"It's our wedding," he put flatly. "Who else is it about?"

She shook her head and looked out the window, wrapping up what was left of her sandwich and tossing it on the dash. "Our families, Jay," she put bluntly. "Will, Ethan, Hank. You get that we're Ethan's context of what a real adult relationship is supposed to look like, right? How we do this is going to impact his whole perspective of what weddings and marriage and relationships look like."

"He has a brother," Jay provided.

She gave him an annoyed look. "Who knocked up an on-again-off-again girlfriend from high school when he got out of jail, had a child out of wedlock—"

"I thought they got married before the kid was born," Jay muttered.

"Whatever," Erin pressed. "She was pregnant outside of a relationship existing. And they had a quickie wedding just to – make things official for the baby and the army payments and housing and … whatever. I don't even know what they did. But I know it upset and confused the fuck out of Eth. And, whether Hank will ever vocalize it or not, it hurt him because that's not how he raised us."

"What'd he expect out of Justin?" Jay muttered again.

Erin flared her nostrils. "He's his son, Jay. He just … keeps hoping that … I don't know," she admitted and sighed again, gazing out the window at some of the patrolmen coming and going to the cruisers. She crossed her arms. "I do know, though, that every time Justin fucks up, he takes it as a reflection on himself and his parenting."

Jay shrugged. "Maybe it is."

Erin cast him a look. "He was a good dad," she pressed at him. "He is. You know that."

Jay sighed and gave her a thin smile at that. He wasn't going to argue with her. So at least that counted for something. Some acknowledgement.

"He deserves to see us – me – do this right," she said. "And so does Ethan."

"Yea …" Jay acknowledged with some hesitation. "I just have some issues with the whole marijuana thing."

"Medical marijuana," she stressed at him.

He shrugged at her. "Does it matter?"

"It's perfectly legal," she punctuated at him.

"Now," he said. "Barely six months ago we would've been taking this as intel, raiding the place and putting her in cuffs."

"And barely six months ago, I was doing a lot worse than smoking some weed, Jay," she said. "And no one was raiding my apartment. And you sure weren't leading the charge."

"But I was disappointed in you," he told her bluntly. "And so was Voight."

She sighed at that and looked away. "It's just pot," she said.

"That like 'just pills'?" he asked.

She shot him a warning look. "You know it's different. And I don't understand how you can be so against medical marijuana when you see what Eth goes through," she said frustratedly.

"Ah, because maybe I think that it's not Mouse who has a point – it's Voight. That handing kids a drug and teaching them it's OK, to form a habit out of using it – that's not such a great idea."

She glared at him. "So you'd rather him just live in pain and have so little appetite and so much nausea that we can hardly keep the weight on him. So then he's freezing all the time since he's pretty much skin and bones. Yea," Erin nodded. "Hank has a real good point there. I really love that decision he's made about his child's health."

"The kids in your family don't exactly have a great track record with self-control and good judgment when it comes to drugs and alcohol," he provided flatly.

She gaped at him and shook her head. "It's controlled," she put to him sharply. "Two doctors have to sign off on it. And way more than that have recommended it for him. AND – it's Hank who actually gets access to it, controls it, administers it. And, it's not actually raw pot. It's the drops. Edibles."

"They have no idea yet what giving this shit to kids long term could do," Jay pressed at her. "Voight spent half his fucking career working in Gangs and dealing with narcotics. He's right not to want his kid going near this shit. Who fucking knows what it's doing to his brain and body."

Erin rolled her eyes. "And what's not being on it doing to his brain and body," she muttered. "He was self-medicating. Eleven years old, Jay, and he was self-medicating."

"Yea," Jay put to her firmly. "And that's likely more reason for Voight to be leery about just handing the stuff to him. Starting using at eleven?"

"All kids end up trying pot," she muttered.

"At eleven?" Jay put back to her. "I think the street kid in you has you a little confused on that. And there's a pretty big different between trying it, using it and self-medicating."

Erin shook her head and looked angrily out the window. "Right," she muttered. "So rather than trying something that's completely natural that all kinds of studies and anecdotes have shown help – let's just keep pumping chemicals into him."

"You mean the 'just pills' that you were OK with polluting your body with?" Jay said flatly.

Her eyes darted back to him. "He is a little boy and he's had all kinds of drugs pumped into him since he was seven years old, Jay. Now – heavy-duty steroids, antibiotics, fucking cleansed plasma. Over and over again. Not to mention the pain killers, anxiety medication and sleeping pills they hand out to him like candy. You think that's good for a twelve year old's body and mind? When he's dealing with a disease that the doctors hardly know anything about, let alone when it occurs in a child and LET ALONE when it seems to develop out of previous brain injury. But lets just bombard his body with chemicals."

He reached out at that and took her hand, squeezing it. "Calm down," he told her gently.

She felt his hand over top of hers, resting on her thigh. The roughness of it and took a deep breath.

"You've seen him on his bad days," she said more calmly. "You've seen him in the hospital. I don't know how you can see that. How Hank can see that. And not at least be willing to try THC for a few months and see if it helps him."

"It's not a miracle drug," Jay told her softly.

"Maybe it is," she said and cast him a look. "It seems like for some people it is." Jay let out a long sigh at that and stared out the windshield too. "Your mom had cancer, Jay," she provided quietly. "You never thought about getting her some? You wouldn't have wanted her to have access to a prescription if it'd been legal then?"

Jay shrugged and shook his head. "My mom was …" he gave a long pause. "We tried lots of things. And some of it just meant … she wasn't there anymore even though she was still there."

Erin squeezed his hand back at that statement. She could feel the sadness even in his fingertips.

"Erin …" he sighed. "I know Eth has bad days and that's … hard … to see. Really hard. But Voight … Hank. He's his dad, and like you said, he's a good one. And he's been managing his son's health a really long time. You've got to trust that he's making the best decision for Eth and the family – based on the information he's got in front of him."

"But maybe he's not very good about hearing opinions other than his own," she said softly.

Jay gave her a small smile at that and shrugged. "He's used to being the boss. But he knows how to take care of business."

"It's just pot," she muttered and rubbed her thumb over the top of his hand. "You know Mouse uses?" she asked quietly. "That's how he's even tied in with all this."

Jay shrugged. "Yea, I know," he allowed. "But he's an adult and he did the self-medicating thing too and … I don't know. I'm not sure how much it helped him. Him getting in here. Getting some benefits and getting on real, medically prescribed drugs and not just what the VA hands you. That helped him."

"It's been approved for PTSD," she said.

"I know …" Jay conceded. "And I guess if his doctors feel it helps him with that and he feels it's evening him out too …" he shrugged.

"Maybe it's better than all the manufactured crap in pills …" she tried again.

"I don't know … maybe …" he allowed. "But Mouse is able to make his own choices about this stuff. Eth's still a kid."

"He's got PTSD. Pain. Loss of appetite. MS," Erin argued again though more evenly and quietly. "It might really help him."

Jay let out a little sigh and squeezed her hand tighter. She looked at him.

"Maybe if you see what it's all about," she suggested, "you'd feel differently. And maybe if you see it differently, Hank would see it differently."

"Erin," he said so slowly that he nearly sighed it. "He's heard the different take from so many doctors. He doesn't care what I think about it."

"You might be surprised …" she muttered.

His thumb caressed at the top of her hand. "I'll think about it …" he told her.

She glanced at him and gave him a sad smile. She knew he was only trying to appease her. But she'd take the platitude this time.

"I love you …" she offered him carefully. He weaved her fingers into hers and gripped her hand even more.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: A chapter got posted last night as well. Chapter 56 - Basket Cases.**


	53. The Other Guy

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

"Dad …" Voight heard behind him and glanced up from his work, gazing at the clock on his desk.

It was later than he thought. Night was disappearing and it was going to be another several hours before he was done with his shit. He'd never much noticed the time when he'd started in with Intelligence. Just did his thing. Stayed as long as he needed to. Didn't think anything of it. Was his job. Was his city. Didn't need to be home.

Different story now with Magoo. Did his best to be home for dinner most nights. Or at least home to help his kid with homework and to see he got his ass upstairs for lights out if he couldn't get home to put food on the table. But it meant that he was dragging home a lot of the stuff he'd normally burn the midnight oil on at work. Sit and do it for hours in his den.

Didn't much like having that type of paperwork and kind of files of information in his house. But also didn't like being a completely absent father. Couldn't be. Didn't really have a choice on that matter. Someone needed to be home parenting E. Couldn't put it all on Erin. Wasn't fair. He wasn't her kid. Had her own life. Things she needed to attend to – people. And a chance to enjoy being young and kid-free while it lasted. And beyond that – good percentage of the time when he was stuck at work at night – she was too. Fucking perils of having your main caregiver working under you. If there wasn't enough bullshit involved in having your adult kid as one of your underlyings. That was hard enough. But now it also meant you didn't have your free babysitting service a good percentage of the time.

So the other option had been Holly's folks. But the girl's mom had already given him some lip about it in the New Year. Voight should've seen it coming. E was hanging around there more and more but it seemed like Holly wanted to play with him less and less.

Voight wasn't sure if she just didn't like Ethan or if it was more he was cramping her style or she was taking shit from the other kids about him hanging around or tagging along when he wasn't able to keep up and participate in quite the way he used to.

Real sign should've been when Holly and her ma didn't swing by the hospital while Magoo was stuck in there in December. Voight hadn't thought too much of it at the time. Wasn't a huge fan of people intruding on his personal life or looking at him or his boy with pity. And it was a couple weeks before Christmas - people were busy. But still, he should've clued in more when they'd gotten home and through the holiday break, Holly had never shown up at the door to check in on Ethan or invite him for some videogames or movies or sledding or whatever the fuck kids in the neighborhood got up to after a snow storm. But again – Hank hadn't given too much heed to it. Figured the Prokops were off visiting family. Or had just bunkered down with the few feet of snow that were clogging up the streets over the holiday. The whole neighborhood had seemed pretty quiet. And his boy had needed the rest anyway. Didn't need to be pushing himself and trying to keep up with other kids. Hank had enough shit to manage with his kids getting into it and dealing with the battle of wills and personalities there.

So it hadn't been until poor Magoo was back at school that he'd realized much was wrong. Camille would've told him he had his head up his ass on this one. Because it'd been a bit before he realized anything was wrong even then. But shit had been busy since E got back into routine. So it hadn't been until he had some lead time into the fact that him and Erin were both going to be working a case one night and had gone over to knock on the Prokops' door to see if they'd mind having Magoo over for dinner and maybe into the evening. He would've preferred E stay there until he was able to get home – but would've been happy if they just kept him there until seven or eight. Have a set of eyes on him until he was supposed to be starting his lights out routine. Voight could call his kid and bark at him to make sure he was listening. Getting his ass to bed. They were at a place in E's life where he trusted that that's what the kid was doing – not out running the streets. Might change. But at the moment they were golden.

Things hadn't been golden with Holly's mom, though. Bernice had put forward in no uncertain terms that E had been dropping in way too much after-school in the fall term. That Holly had her own friends and homework and activities. That they weren't a babysitting service – and that they didn't like being treated like one. Voight hadn't really agreed with her. Thought she'd taken things a bit to the extreme in her rather vocal attack – where she took the time to step outside her front door and close it to lay into him. But he'd just bit his tongue. Wasn't one to give his neighbors some tongue lashing. At least the women. Wasn't productive for anyone or help with his status in the community. Or his son's. Besides – he could see where she was coming from. Or maybe where Holly was coming from. Hard that age when you've got a tag-along you don't want.

Rough, though. He'd thought his boy and Holly had the starts of a nice little friendship going on. But maybe that's what he wanted for his boy. A friend. Any fucking friend. Having one a few doors down was certainly convenient, though. And maybe it being a sporty little girl that E had been around since they were both barely out of diapers had got him thinking on his own girl too much. Erin being all piss and vinegar at that age. Running around with the boys with scrapped knees and torn jeans. Doing her best to fit in and breaking hearts in the process. Some shit didn't change. Ever. Or maybe it was more that he saw Magoo and Holly together and it got him thinking on him and Camille too much. Sometimes it really is the girl next door that steals your heart. So maybe he'd been forcing a friendship that just wasn't there. Or at least encouraging when he should've seen the signs that Holly – and her parents – weren't too interested in Magoo being around as much as he was.

So he'd turned to Michelle instead. That night. She was a nice enough kid. O seemed amicable to him calling on her to babysit. Meant that he knew where she was and what she was up to too. Much bigger issue at that age and stage – and history – than it was with Magoo. But fifteen – they're only so interested in doing that. Michelle had her boxing and her own homework and her own little group of boys her own her she was busy breaking hearts of.

Hank likely would've preferred Lexi, but even if that had been an option, O's baby girl was almost eighteen now – a senior. 'Bout the last thing she wanted to be doing with her evenings or nights was sitting with a twelve-year-old boy.

Thankfully with this whole Robotics Club thing, more afternoons than not, Eth was at the school until about 5:30. Made things a bit easier in terms of at least wrapping up the "business hours" aspect of the workday. Too fucking bad the job didn't really cater to the whole 9-5 schedule. Though, Voight was getting good at getting E's rehab and occupational therapy and cognitive therapy and so-forth and what-not – on and on – scheduled in the afternoons and early evenings of the days he didn't have his robot team stuff.

He was working at trusting him to get to them and to get home on his own as much as he could too – when he or Erin couldn't be there to hold his hand. E needed to learn that. In the city. Not the way he'd learned it at fucking boarding school. Here was different. Chicago was different than some school out in the country. Here he needed to get some independence and comfort. But a boy his age, he needed some freedom and responsibility too. Learn to get started in on his homework on his own and even do some of the meal prep for the family.

It was good for them. Made E a member of the household. A real one. Not a fucking house guest. It worked at making a man out of his little boy. Even if all of that was fucking hard – because a lot of the time Voight had a part of him telling him he needed to be there for everything. Every fucking thing. And that his kid was only twelve – a young twelve. And he'd already missed so much in his own fuck up. That his boy needed him.

But he couldn't be like that. He raised his kids. Didn't baby them. Goal was adulthood. Getting them there. Needed to give E some space to do that even though it was hard.

So he just grunted now, without even looking at the kid. "Be up in a few minutes to read a few pages with you," he muttered.

"Dad …" his kid started again.

Voight's head came up a little more at that and he exhaled some annoyance. "You weren't feeling up to doing anymore homework tonight, so you aren't up to your videogames either," he said more firmly. Cutting his boy off before he started in on any bullshit. "Head upstairs."

It'd been a battle with E that night. It'd been one of the afternoons where he didn't have anything after school. Those seemed few and far between so far that winter. And even though Magoo had expressed an interest in coming to District after school, Voight had told him to take his ass home. Start his homework. Get some rest. Because school and robotics and his medical appointments were kicking his boy's ass.

Voight had set up an agreement with the school so that E could go to the nurse's station and lay down for a while at lunch. Or that he could go rest there too for the bit of time between the end of the school day and the start of the extracurricular activities. But Ethan was only taking advantage of that so much. Because that drew attention to him. And Magoo hated the added point for teasing. What twelve year olds needed naps?

Well, Voight's sure fucking did.

His boy was crashing in the evenings and even though he'd be all restless on Saturdays where he didn't have his robot crap - wanting to do something – he'd about sleep until 10 a.m., if Voight let him. And if him or Erin did take him out to do something – even so much as groceries – he'd be done for the rest of the day.

Erin and Halstead taking him to fucking laser tag? Great. E loved it. But he'd stayed in bed all Sunday to sore and exhausted to move.

It was a fucking difficult balance. Voight wanted him in a normal academic situation – even if he did have him on the IEP. He wanted him socializing and making friends. Wanted him to be taking advantage of all the opportunities this robotics thing provided. Hell, he fucking wanted him to take advantage of other opportunities or interests that cropped up. Have a social life. Have buddies. To start asking him to do things on the weekends that didn't involve him or Erin having to take him out. To the rink with his buddies. Or going and building some robot. Or a movie or whatever. Just being with kids his age doing shit that interested them. But he also didn't want his kid to be exhausted. Didn't want to risk another flare up of his symptoms. Another hospitalization.

Voight was still learning how to manage it. How to keep his kid in line. How to reel him in. How to push him on out. It was different than with J or Erin. Supposed it'd be different than dealing with any 'well' kid. But E was a challenge enough so fucking different from his other two kids at that age and throw in brain trauma, learning disabilities, a chronic life changing disease and add the extra layer of being a single parent and some days he just felt like he didn't have a fucking clue what he was doing or that he was remotely qualified to be navigating this mess for a child. But it was his child. His responsibility. He just kept trying to figure it out as best he could. As fucking frustrating as it was because he couldn't parent Eth the way he had J or Erin. It just didn't work. It hadn't worked. So here they were. Sometimes it was harder then it needed to be because E was still learning to vocalize his boundaries too. To say when he was too tired or hurting too much. It made some of it a guessing game.

That night hadn't been much of a guessing game. Hank had gotten home and it was clear his kid was out of sorts. All out pout. Definitely a moody preteen kid he had there. No homework had been done. No meal prep had been done. Not even a fucking salad. And anything Voight asked him about his day or what the fuck he'd been doing all afternoon was met with sounds that didn't constitute answers.

Voight hadn't been in the mood for a battle of the wills that night, though. Normally he didn't let his kids win. He really fucking hated letting them win. They were the kids. He was the adult. Their father. What he said – went. But he was fucking tired too and he still had his own shit to do. And he knew Eth had been burning the candle at both ends with all the shit he had on the go. So he'd just written it off as a day where some of the symptoms of his boy's fucking disease were weighing a little heavier on him than others and all the joys of having a fucking twelve-year-old in the house were seeping out.

So when his kid had refused to eat, he'd said whatever. And after sitting with Eth for an hour while he labored over his homework – not even getting through a page – when Magoo had said he was too fatigued to understand anymore, Hank had also said OK. And the kid had disappeared into the front room, pulling his bin of plastic dinosaurs out from their seemingly permanent home under the armchair and he'd sprawled on the floor with the toys and the dog. He'd been so quiet – and there'd been no push for screen-time privileges – that Voight had thought he really must be spent, just feeling off, and that he was likely to pass out right there. So he'd just turned his attention to his own thing. Until now.

There was quiet behind him but the kid didn't retreat for the stairs as ordered either. Eventually the floor creaked and Voight looked up again as E got next to his desk, his hand bracing against its corner. He was hobbling around without his crutches that night. Being a stubborn little fuck no matter how tired he was or how much he was hurting. But Hank just gave him an annoyed look.

"You didn't do enough tonight to earn screen time, Magoo," he said even more sternly. "And it is passed lights out. So don't be thinking you're going to be starting in on me now. You get your ass upstairs and be happy that we're still gonna read a couple pages and not just switch the lights right out."

His kid gave him sad eyes. "I think I need to tell you something," he said quietly.

Voight let out an annoyed sound and leaned back in his chair folding his hands over his abdomen. This could potentially explain the body language he'd been getting from his kid since he'd walked in the door.

Ethan eyed him carefully – clearly second-guessing his decision to go this route.

"But I don't want to get in trouble," he sputtered.

Voight pressed his tongue in his cheek at that and then ran it along the front of his teeth. "You do something dumbass, you're going to get in shit," he shrugged. "It's how it works."

Ethan sighed, giving him a slightly guilty look. But Voight just shrugged at him.

"You've opened it up, Ethan," he said. "You tell me what this is about now – or it's going to get back to me another way. And chances are when that happens, I'm going to be less impressed than I am right now."

Ethan allowed a slow rise and fall in his chest but provided. "I mean, I don't want anyone to get in trouble. And I don't wanna be a rat."

Voight examined him more carefully. "Some kid giving you shit at school?" His boy let out a slower sigh and Hank rocked forward to find his eyes. "That ain't ratting anyone out. We've talked about this. You tell me the truth so I can deal with the things you can't handle. That's my job. And I'll tell you if it's something you should be handling on your own."

Ethan's eyes looked away and his fingers fidgeted on the corner of the desk. "Not school," he said.

"The robot team," Hank stated flatly but E just shook his head. "We don't do fucking games, Ethan. You came in here to talk to me as your father. So man up and spit it out."

Ethan glanced at him unsurely. "It's about Holly …" he said quietly.

Voight rocked back in his chair again at that, measuring his son. "That what you got up to this afternoon?" he asked and Ethan just glanced at him guiltily. "Ethan, I told you, if Holly invites you over there - fine, go over. But I don't want you knocking on her door without an invitation and I don't want you inviting her over here when me or your sister aren't around."

It was only partially true. He thought kids E's age should be allowed to just go up and knock on their buddies' doors. Invite them into the street for some ball or down to the park. To crash out in front of their TV or play some videogames. If the parents were home and willing to supervise. He didn't think that every fucking thing needed to planned and structured and scheduled. But that just didn't seem to be the way people managed their kids' schedules and lives anymore. And Holly's mother had made pretty clear that Magoo wasn't someone she wanted as a drop-in guest. So Hank had sugar-coated it. Just lay down some new rules. But apparently they hadn't been listened to and that would likely explain a lot about the sulking he'd seen that evening.

"She did invite me over …" Ethan ventured even more quietly.

"OK," Voight allowed, still staring at his kid. He really wasn't sure he liked where this conversation might be headed. Had to remind himself the kid hadn't hit puberty yet so this could only be so bad. But E had definitely proven in the past that he could get himself in a world of trouble. "And?"

"I think maybe she might be kinda in trouble," Ethan said.

Voight examined him but then gestured at the chair they kept wedged between the desk and the wall anymore. Felt a little too much like at work but sometimes it was the best set-up he could manage to supervising E's homework and computer time.

E looked reluctant to sit in it but did. His eyes didn't move to Voight, though. He just kept tracing his fingers around the desktop.

"We aren't going to play guessing games, Ethan," Voight stressed again. "Talk."

"I thought maybe she was inviting me over because she was going to invite me to the Snowflake dance at her school because she keeps on talking about it a lot," Ethan said without looking at him.

Voight let out a little sigh. Broken heart syndrome? "Ethan—"

But his boy's eyes came up to him before he had to come up with some way to tell his twelve year old that girls not being interested was just a fact of life. That it was likely going to be the first of many rejections he had from girls – and he was just going to have to get used to it. Because the sad fucking reality was that kids that age only saw the surface of his kid. The scars. The crutches. That didn't exactly make him a catch. And even when he got older there were going to be the girls who saw him for him but would shy away after they learned about his brain damage or his multiple sclerosis. That was something more to buy into in any kind of relationship. Wouldn't be easy. And Voight knew his kid was likely going to end up with his heart being broken a few more times than most because of it all. When his kid had had his heart broken too many times as it was.

"She had another guy there already," Ethan pressed. "I think she's going to go with him to the dance."

Voight let out a little sigh. "Magoo … I think Holly just sees you as a buddy right now. And you kids, you're too young for dating and dances anyways."

Ethan gave him a more sullen face. "He's older."

Voight drummed his fingers on the desk at that. "How much older?"

"He's a freshmen. But he went to her school last year," he offered.

"Mmm …" Voight grunted. "Her folks home when you guys were over there?" Ethan shook his head and Voight gave a little nod. He pinched at the bridge of his nose as he processed how to deal with that. Kids that age alone together wasn't too smart. "That's not too smart," he muttered and gave his son sterner eyes. "From now on, I don't want you over there when one of her folks isn't home."

Ethan looked at him with sadder eyes. "It was him who told Holly to call me over," he said.

"Why?" Voight rasped.

Ethan let out a breath and traced his finger along the desk again. "Holly told him that I have lots of medicine," he near whispered.

"And he wanted your pills?" Voight put flatly. Ethan shrugged. "Did you give them any of your medication, Ethan?" Voight pressed at him much more fiercely.

Ethan shook his head, his eyes welling as he looked at him. "No, Dad," he tearily whined. "I wouldn't. I don't want you to send me away again!"

His eyes fell away to try to hide what was happening in them but Voight leaned forward, putting his hand over his boy's to still his fidgets.

"I'm not going to send you away," he told his son firmly.

"You said in the summer you would," Ethan sputtered. "To military school."

Voight grunted and leaned in more to find his eyes. "A lot has changed since the summer, Ethan. You do something stupid – you'll be dealing with me. It will be a whole lot worse than military school."

Ethan looked at him sadly. "But I've been doing real good," he said half-heartedly.

Voight gave him a small nod of recognition. "You have," he allowed. "And me and your sister like having you home a whole lot. And you need to be here near your doctors. So whatever got said back in the summer – that's not what you're looking at now. But if I find out those pills are ending up anywhere but inside you, you're still going to be in a whole world of shit."

"I didn't give him any," Ethan pleaded. "But he got mad and called me a 'fucking cripple'."

"You aren't a cripple," Voight told him sternly.

Ethan looked down. "He left and Holly was mad at me. I told her she shouldn't be hanging out with him but she's going to go to his party. But Dad, I hear people talking about the older kid parties at school and I don't think Holly should be going to them, especially if there's going to be pills. But she said it's just pills – like medicine. I told her it's not when you aren't sick or if you take them different ways but she just got madder and made me leave. But I think that guy might get her to do things she shouldn't be doing."

Voight nodded. "I'm going to talk to her folks about what's going on."

Ethan looked at him sadly. "Then she'll know that I ratted them out."

"You're looking out for your friend," Voight put to him.

"She's not going to be my friend anymore after you tell her parents," Ethan said. "She's gonna hate me."

Voight sighed and shrugged. "Maybe. For now," he allowed. "But eventually she'll get over it and when she's a bit older and smarter – maybe she'll thank you."

Ethan gazed at him and swiped more at his eyes, looking down at his mutt, who'd come to see what all the tears were about. Voight would give Bear that much – he was pretty good at the whole dog loyalty and affection thing.

He reached and patted E's knee. "C'mon," he said, standing from his chair. "We'll go knock on the door now. Get it out in the open. You don't got nothing to be hiding from or ashamed of."

Ethan gazed at him sadly – like it was a walk that he wasn't about to take. A conversation he wasn't about to have.

And sometimes it felt like the job just never ended. Not work. Not parenting.

Had to hope there was some decent benefits coming out of it all, though. His kid talking to him. Keeping another young girl from getting into a world of shit. Seemed like a decent return on investment for the moment.


	54. Bad Influences

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 50 - THE OTHER GUY.**

Hank let out an annoyed noise as he got to the bottom of the stairs and saw who the "woman, says she knows you" that Platt had come up and retrieved him for actually. Fucking Holly Prokops mother taking up space in the foyer of his District. Looking like a little mouse of a woman. Deer in headlights. For all the chest puffing she'd done the other night. All the shit talk she'd been handing him for weeks. Dirty looks for months. She looked pretty deflated now.

Still he rubbed at his cheek with his thumb as she gazed at him and the clanging gate even more unsurely. He let the secure door fall shut and went down the last few stairs, standing in front of the bench she was sitting on. Just shoving his hands in his pockets and staring at her. She sputtered like she couldn't find anything to say after her coming "all the way" out to his place of work. Disrupting shit. Pulling him away from his job.

"Help you with something?" he put to her flatly.

She fumbled to her feet, her purse clutched against her like she thought some of the riffraff moving through their District might actually bother to grab in from her right there on police property.

"I've been trying to get a hold of you," she sputtered. "But the house always looks dark."

He shrugged at her. "Work for a living, Bernice. And I don't much like my twelve-year-old kicking around the house alone for hours on end."

He could say more. About idle hands. About not wanting him around kids who were going to give him shit or get him into shit. About his definition of good parenting. But he didn't. It wasn't worth it.

The woman had given him complete Gen Xer parenting bullshit. Complete fucking denial about the possibility her little girl would be having older boys in the house, going to parties or be experimenting with drugs. Like that just wasn't a possibility and like Eth was making shit up to cover up his own shit. Had completely lipped off at Hank and nearly slammed the door in his face while he stood there and seethed. Hadn't had to bite his tongue that hard in a long time. Even he could feel how angry his face had flushed. Could feel the veins pulsing.

But he had to set an example for Magoo. Be the parent. Be the man. The father. So he'd taken it. He'd taken worse and walked away still telling his son that they'd done the right thing. E sputtering that he wasn't lying. Voight assuring him he knew he wasn't lying. Ethan had no reason to lie about that. He'd been in enough shit in the summer about his pharmaceuticals to know better than to get involved in that shit or to make up stories. Had heard from Hank and from his sister about the all kinds of shit 'just pills' could cause if you're taking them when you aren't supposed to be taking them. He'd been lectured and he'd been punished. And he'd gone through life experience of seeing what drugs and alcohol could do to a family. The fucking mess and nightmare it could cause. He'd experienced that. And, he'd seen all the shit the pharms caused in his own body even when he was prescribed them and needed them. His son didn't have any reason to lie about that shit. And Hank had worked damn hard since the spring to re-establish the relationship with his boy where truth and trust were paramount. They fucking needed that to get through his health crisis and to get him through his teens and high school. And, Hank knew his kid. His kids. Eth wasn't yanking him around.

Holly's parents on the other hand – fucking Bernice Prokops – Hank was pretty sure she knew shit. About parenting. About her daughter. About what was going on in that home. She was too busy turning blind eyes. Absorbed in her work. Trying to be the kid's friend rather than her parent. And preteens – they were fucking old enough to know that and see that. And Holly had her mom wrapped around her little finger and was just yanking her chain right now.

But that wasn't Hank's problem. He'd done his duty. He'd alerted the kid's parent to the shit that was going on under her nose. Given her a chance to deal with it. She didn't want to – that was her business. He'd deal with it from his end – and his way of dealing with it at the moment was keeping his son the fuck away from that family, even if it meant that his lonely little boy was losing his only little friend. Didn't sound like Holly was being much of a friend anyways. And E didn't need any more kids abusing him and taking advantage of him – because of who he was and what he was and the vulnerabilities he exhibited. He'd already been through enough of that bullshit.

"I just wanted to let you know that I talked with Holly," Bernice said, wringing her hands. "And she confirmed what Ethan had said."

"Mmm…" Hank grunted, glaring her down.

She just stare at him like she was expecting more. She sure as hell didn't deserve it, though.

"So … I'm sorry … that … I called your son … a liar," she struggled to get out after an already extended long pause.

Hank shrugged at her. "Think it's probably someone else you and your kid should be giving that apology to," he put bluntly.

Bernice stared at him like she hadn't expected that either. But what the fuck did she expected? It'd pissed him off that she'd called his kid a liar. But worse was she'd done it in front of Magoo. She'd spat it at his kid. She'd hurt him. It wasn't him who needed the apology. It was his child. And it didn't need to be coming from just the elder Prokops – it needed to be coming from Holly. The one who'd spoon fed her mother the bullshit to make her feel like she was justified spitting that in a little boy's face. That wasn't adult behavior and it sure as fuck wasn't parenting.

But then the secure door clattered open again and Bernice's eyes drifted over, getting wider. Hank glanced behind him to see Erin coming the stairs, giving the two of them a questioning look but she barely nodded at Bernice, before looking at him.

"The vic's awake at Med. We were gonna roll," she said.

He nodded. "Yea, I'll be right behind you."

"You want me to wait?" she put to him.

He gave her a pucker and shook his head. "I'll ride with Dawson."

Erin just gave him a curt nod, giving Bernice another skeptical look and then headed for the door. Hank shifted his eyes back to the woman who watched Erin leave before slowly moving her gaze back to his.

"I didn't realize that … you and Erin … worked together?" she asked questioningly more than stating.

He just smacked at her and shrugged. "Sure there's a lot you don't know about my family while you're looking down at us from your high horse."

She blinked at him – gaping some more. "Look, Hank …" she sputtered. "It's just that … we saw all the … trouble … you and Camille had with Justin when he was a teenager and then …". He just smacked his lips again at her and glared – daring her to say something derogatory about one of his other kids. "And then Ethan this summer and some of the … you running around looking for him—"

He held up his hand and shook his head. "I know you've got a whole lot of opinions about me as a parent," he interrupted. "You've made that abundantly clear. But the fact of the matter is that you don't know shit about my family. You don't know what we were dealing with with my older boy and you haven't got a clue about what was going on in my house this past summer—"

"I know—" she tried to press but he cut her off again.

"No," he pressed at her, holding an accusing finger up in her face. "You don't. But here's what I know. You made very clear to me that you didn't want my son hanging around your daughter. And I didn't much like that – but I respected your prerogative on that as her parent. So here's what I'm saying as his parent. You're concerned that my boy is some sort of bad influence on your kid? I think it's the other way around. And, right now, I don't want my kid anywhere near Holly. Because I don't need some kid using him and abusing him and making him feel like shit. And, I don't much approve of kids that age being left alone together for hours at a time. It's just asking for bullshit – that I don't want to deal with. So, you don't got to worry, my boy won't be coming around anymore. But, just as a little neighbor-to-neighbor, parent-to-parent advice – maybe you should take a good hard look at what's going on in your own house and stop worrying about what's goin' on over the fence. 'Cuz your baby girl ain't such a baby anymore. And if you don't want that to be biting your family in the ass, I think you've got to do some assessment on what kind of rules and regulations you've got goin' on on your own homefront. Not mine."

He started to walk for the door, zipping up his jacket and casting her a look over his shoulder. She was still staring straight ahead – dazed – like no one had ever laid out reality like that for her before. And they likely hadn't. But she really fucking needed it.

"Next time you want to talk to me about my family life," he called back at her and she slowly shifted to gaze still dumbfounded at him, "don't come into my workplace. Because you show up here again about shit like this – and you'll just be leaving a message at the desk."

He yanked the zipper up to his chin, shoved his hands back in his pockets and pushed open the front door.

No one fucking got to talk shit about his family – especially inside the building where he made so many sacrifices to provide for and ensure the safety of not just his family but other fucking clueless bitches like her.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: I posted another chapter — The Point — early today. A chapter was also posted last night — Basket Cases. And another less than 24 hours before that — Invitation. The reader counts on all of them are pretty low so a lot of you have likely missed them.**


	55. One-Two Punch

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 58 - BAD INFLUENCES (and more generally after CHAPTER 50 - The Other Guy).**

Michelle stopped her high-speed jump rope routine and gazed at where Ethan was sitting on the mats, draped over the ropes and staring across the gym. Her eyes followed his.

"You shouldn't stare," she put to him. "You don't like when people look at you."

He glanced at her and then looked back across the room briefly before resting his chin on his hands and gazing at her instead. She vaguely gestured over to where a couple disabled vets were working out together.

"You know, you were like the inspiration for that," she put to him flatly.

He looked at her with that complete deer-in-headlights look he got all the time. The kid seemed so dazed and confused sometimes.

"What you mean?" he muttered at her, acting all like he wasn't interested at all. He'd been doing a good job at that all afternoon. Completely just sulking around but following after her like a puppy dog in the process. She didn't want to be outright mean to him and tell him to go away. But the least he could do would be like hold the bag or something, if he wasn't going to do any training of his own.

She tossed the speed rope over the one rope on the mats, threading it around to keep it in place and picked up her wraps from where she'd left them on the edge of the mats, starting to work at getting them around her one wrist. Maybe Ethan would like clue in and help her with the second one. If he remembered how. It was pretty much the first time she'd seen him in the gym for any length of time since December. But it wasn't like he was looking to train. She kind of suspected he was in way too much of a pity party to do that. But also thought that maybe hitting shit might help him knock that right out of him too.

"Yea," she nodded over at the guys again, as she wrapped her wrists. "Antonio saw some of the like accommodations him and the coaches were making to help you get in the ring. And, like realized he knew a lot of cops who'd been hurt in the line of duty stuff who might benefit from like getting to punch the shit out of stuff too. And I guess maybe Jay had mentioned about knowing some guys who were hurt in combat or who might like it too. So they kinda put the word out that, you know, this was an open gym. For everyone. Now there's like this group of guys that shows up all the time. Those two seem like the real regulars. They're pretty nice. You should go talk to 'em."

Ethan put his cheek against his hands again and stared some more at the punches and jabs that were going on over there. "He doesn't have legs," he muttered.

"Sure he does," Michelle pressed at him firmly.

"Not real ones," Ethan said flatly.

She reached and gave the back of his head a little swat – even though Antonio had drilled into the whole Youth Boxing League that you weren't supposed to vindictively give Ethan a hit to the head. But she thought maybe he sorta needed on right then. He didn't seem too bothered by it. Michelle was actually pretty sure Erin gave him little jabs apparently too – because he was her annoying little brother.

"So maybe they're in way worse shape than you and they ain't sitting around here pouting," she put to him, as he gazed at her. She jutted her wrist at him. "Finish this for me," she ordered.

He sighed at her but reached to help do the final few wraps of the wrist and tuck it in. It took a bit. She could see his hand was shaking a bit. But she'd seen him shaking way worse previously. This was just typical Ethan shakes. Not like him being all out sick shakes.

"So you being here mean you're coming back to Youth Boxing?" she asked as he finished up.

"I can't really box anymore," Ethan muttered.

She nodded her head across the room again. "They can, you can," she pushed at him.

He shrugged at her. "I'm busy with Robotics," he said.

"Not every night," she told him and then lifted up his one hand and pretty forcibly shoved a punch mitt onto it. He could at least get up off his ass and stand there with his hands up for her, if he was going to follow her around.

"Basically," he said, not protesting her gearing him up.

She grabbed his other hand and pulled the opposite mitt onto it. "Not tonight," she said and gestured for him to get up. He sighed loudly at her but ducked out from under the ropes and stood. "Well, put your hands up," she said. He did but his crutches just hung off his forearms. She huffed at him and reached to pull them off his arms too, leaning them against the mats.

"Don't knock me down," he muttered at her as she got into position.

"So take your stance and I won't," she put to him.

He groaned at her but did. But she could tell he was unsteady on his feet. He pretty much had been for as long as she'd known him anyway. But she knew after like two months of being away from the gym and him standing there in his school uniform, she definitely had to take it easy on him. Besides, she'd get it shit if she knocked him around too much. And then Antonio would have something to say about it and then Al would likely have something to say about it. And then it'd probably get back to Hank. Not that Hank would say anything to her about it but he might give her that like bad ass look he did. She thought it was likely supposed to be intimidating. And she guessed it kind of was. But it was also kinda funny. Like maybe it'd be more scary if she didn't know he was Ethan's dad. But if you were Ethan's dad and Ethan was still living and breathing and seemed relatively normal and functional – beyond being his weirdo little freak self, which likely didn't have too much to do with his dad and a whole lot to do with him just being born that way – so really how scary could Hank really be? Like clearly there were a few nice bones somewhere in his body for Ethan to have survived this long.

She started bouncing around and taking gentle jabs at Ethan's hands. He staggered a bit with the force of it anyways but adjusted himself a bit and seemed to plant his feet a bit firmer to take the hits.

"Put your feet a bit wider," she told him.

He glanced at her and then glanced at his feet, trying to shuffle his crooked one back a bit. Michelle gazed at his awkward process.

"Can you turn it out a bit?" she asked. He shook his head so she crouched down and helped him adjust it instead. "There," she nodded as she rose. "Now put most of your weight on your other leg. And bend your knee."

He just gave a little nod and raised the gloves again. She jabbed at them a few more times.

"You could come on the nights you don't have RoboNerds," she told him. "Everyone still asks when you're coming back."

He sighed a bit. "I can't do anything," he lamented at her like a total little boy.

"Sure you can," she said and hit the glove a bit harder just to knock the statement into him. "You're doing something right now."

"Not boxing," he pressed back at her.

She stopped for a moment and gazed at him. "Yea, well, your foot work does suck," she told him.

He cocked his head at her. "Ha, ha," he monotoned.

She just smiled at him and moved to give him another friendly little knock to the head with her gloves but he actually ducked and dodged it.

"Ohhh …." She teased him and jabbed at the punch mitts a couple more times. "Someone does remember some moves."

"Screw off," Ethan muttered at her.

"And he's starting with the big man talk again," she said giving him a bit harder jab. "How much longer until you start with the F-bombs?"

"FUCK OFF," he pursed.

She smiled at him and gave him a good knock to the shoulder, causing him to stagger a bit but he managed to keep his balance hopping a bit to do it. "You're such a loser," she grinned.

He gave he a little boy smile. Stupid kid was such a cutie and he didn't even know it. All this self-loathing had him thinking he was some kinda dunce. Total geek but definitely not a dunce.

"You know," she said, as she practiced a few more jabs, "you really shouldn't be pouting about this dance thing. Middle school dances are super lame. You aren't missing anything."

He sighed at her and raised the mitts a bit more defensively – almost like he wished he had gloves on instead and they could really spar. She didn't blame him. Sparing was way more fun. Even with Ethan it was good practice. You had to be more technical when you were with Ethan, cuz you had to be respectful of his limitations. But the kid could still put up a fight. Or at least he had been able to before.

"It's not the dance," he spat at her. "She doesn't want to be my friend anymore."

Michelle shrugged and then did a quick punch, punch, jab. A good strong one that rocked Ethan a bit again but he still stood firm – even adjusting his position a bit to make her next set a bit more challenging. "She sounded kinda lame anyways."

"She liked sports too," Ethan put to her.

"So basically you were crushing on her and you're all heartbroken because she didn't want to be your girlfriend?" Michelle put to him sarcastically.

"Noooo!" Ethan spat all defensively, which made her let out a little laugh. "She was just a friend."

"Well, she sounds like a shitty friend," Michelle said.

"Like you didn't have shitty friends before," Ethan provided.

She laughed. "Yea," she spat at him, dropping her gloves and looking at him. "And that ended up kinda shitty. People here are cooler. You should hang out here."

"I've got Robotics!" he pressed at her.

She just rolled her eyes at him and started to walk away, grabbing his crutches from where she'd left them as she went.

"Hey!" Ethan shrieked at her.

She glanced back at him and shrugged. "C'mon," she ordered.

She watched but he just stood there. So she kept walking. She figured he'd follow. He was pretty much like a puppy dog that way. And sure enough she heard his shuffle following behind her as she walked over to the two army guys.

"Hi," she announced as she got up to them and they glanced at her. She used the crutches to gesture at Ethan coming up behind her. "This is Ethan. A girl broke his heart yesterday and now he kinda wants to hit something but he's too much of a pussy to hit me." Ethan glared at her and came to a shy stop in his tracks several yards away from them. "Can you spar with him a bit instead?"

The one guy – the one missing a leg – glanced behind her to take in Ethan. But then gave her a little smile. "Sure," he allowed. "Think we could manage that."

Michelle nodded and leaned his crutches against the closest bench, pulling off her training gloves to lend to the kid.

"He's got a lazy leg and he's brain damaged. Literally," she stressed.

"Hey!" Ethan protested again.

She glanced behind her and shrugged at him. "Well, you are," she said but turned back around to the guy who looked kind of amused. "He's still smart, though. But he does this RoboNerds club thing so he thinks he doesn't have time to come and train anymore. But clearly since he's doing something so retardedly geeky, he really should be training more," she said and cast a look his way. "Because you really need to learn to defend yourself against the people who give you shit about this robot lameness."

"They are not lame," he muttered at her.

She shrugged. "They might be kind of cool in like a nerd way. But you know, he's twelve and building robots …"

The guy smiled at her but shrugged. "I think we can put in a couple rounds with him."

Michelle nodded. "OK, great," she smiled. "But just so you know his dad is Antonio's boss and his sister is a cop too. So, don't be like too hard on him."

"Nah," the guy shook his head. "We'll take it easy."

Michelle smiled and gave another little nod, walking back toward where the punching bags were to finally get some real training in without her shadow. She patted Ethan on the shoulder as she went.

"Have fun," she provided.

He gaped at her but she just kept on walking. Sometimes the kid definitely needed some pushes to get out of his comfort zone. But still she glanced back as she left to see the army guy having closed the gap and talking to Ethan, helping him get the gloves on. She figured if anyone could show Ethan how to knock the shit out of self-pity, it was them. And that would likely help him a whole lot more than some middle school dance or robot club. Or at least it had her. So maybe she could share that a bit. That's what friends were for. The good ones. Not the lame ones.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: I posted two other chapters — The Point and Bad Influences— early today. A chapter was also posted last night — Basket Cases. And another less than 24 hours before that — Invitation. The reader counts on all of them are pretty low so a lot of you have likely missed them.**


	56. Penance

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET IN FEBRUARY of Season 3. IT will likely go after what is currently chapter 55 One-Two Punch. Things will be reordered in coming days.**

Voight settled onto the stool at the bar next to O, tapping on the bar when he caught the tender's eye.

"Manhattan," he rasped and glanced at O. His burgundy was just about done but it looked like he was taking his time nursing it – slowly. "And whatever he's drinking," he added and then looked more at the guy. "Making me drag my ass all the way into Hermann's dive. You know you got me risking him being at me about some fucking 'playdate' with his boy. That kid's got fewer friends than E."

O made a small sound at his brief tirade. "Don't think it's the kids he wants to be friendly," O provided.

Voight grunted some acknowledgement at that and nodded at the bartender – thankfully not one of the 51 folk – as the drinks got deposited in front of them.

Al was right, though. Fucking Hermann had made it his mission to play nice since their kids had been on the same ball team in the summer – and then E got his diagnosis. The nicest factor only seemed to increase since then after all the bullshit politics between him and Firehouse 51 before that. Wasn't sure if it was some sort of pity friendship he was offering up or it was the guy's wife was nagging at him to play nice. Likely a little from Column A and a little from Column B.

Normally Voight would knock him on his ass and be done with it. But with the guy being tight with Trudy's man, he was giving it some leeway in attempting not to be as annoyed at fuck every time his squeaky mouth opened. There were enough hard feelings between him and 51 without him trampling all over Hermann too. The guy seemed pretty much like their mascot. Don't shit on a team's mascot. Just the way it worked.

"Since when you occupy this stool," Voight put to O. "You weren't at Mahoney's."

Al made another sound. That one more pained and he finished off the drink – pushing the empty glass away and pulling the top-up closer to him to stare at.

"Bought Ruzek a drink," he muttered. "Trying to get him to get his priorities sorted."

"Mmm …," Voight allowed and took a sip of his own drink. "How'd that go?" O just let out a long sigh and shook his head. "We'll give him a bit more time," Voight offered.

"Not just him who's head isn't on straight these days," O muttered.

Voight examined him again at that. There wasn't an accusation to it. But Voight knew what he meant.

The lot of them had been a bit of a gong show lately. Ruzek's head wasn't on straight and than meant Burgess' wasn't either. Though, she seemed to be handling it better than fucking Adam. But somehow that didn't surprise him. Sometimes women were just better at that kind of shit.

But then there was Roman going off the rails. Wasn't sure how much longer it'd be before he was asking to get transferred out. The guy had such an issue with anger management, though, and such a chip on his shoulder – that Voight still wasn't sure how much trust or faith he should put in him. But that just kept getting the guy riled up more.

Voight kept hoping Roman might come around because he was good police but the guy seemed to be one of those cops that was set on Patrol and didn't want to go any farther than that. Fine. But that meant Voight only had so much use for him and if he kept going the way he was, that use was going to end soon enough. Too bad. Kid had a decent future in front of him if he started seeing the light.

Then there was the whole Erin and Halstead dynamic. As a father, he knew Erin needed that. The relationship. The support. A decent enough guy. He wanted those things for her as his daughter too. But as her boss, he felt like kicking himself for tolerating it.

Felt like it was only a matter of time before things went off the rails – and he was already seeing how off the rails people's minds could go with the Ruzek-Burgess fall-out. District romances just were bad news.

"Young cops …," O said. "These kids aren't the way we were back then."

Voight snorted and shook his head, flicking his finger across the condensation ring on the bar. "Not sure I remember that far back," he graveled.

"I know I would've given my left nut to be that age – barely out of the Academy, hardly broken in the Patrol boots and pulled into a unit like Intelligence," Al said with that hostile edge of his and took another drink.

"Mmm …" Voight acknowledged. "Got to get 'em young, though. More malleable. Not on someone else's marching orders yet."

"Expect their own pricks," Al said.

Voight allowed him a nod. "Guess I haven't been keeping them in line as much as I should," he acknowledged.

O shrugged. "Got your own shit distracting you too," he allowed.

Voight cast him some daggers but Al wasn't even looking at him. He was staring off across the bar – at the wall – and it was clear it wasn't meant as an accusation either. Just a statement of fact. And a fact, it was. The shit with Magoo had him running around after his own tail some weeks. Back and forth between the house and the school and District and Med. A fucking circuit. Exhausting. Being a single parent and working the job was hard enough. Add in a kid with health issues and even Voight had to wonder some days how long it would be before he snapped. Short fuse only gets shorter when you're running on empty and keep hitting the road blocks.

"More legitimate than anything these clowns are tripping all over themselves with," Al muttered and cast him his own glance, like he'd realized that the daggers had landed on him.

Voight grunted. "You too …," he allowed and took another slow sip of his drink.

And that was a fact too. Al had finished out 2015 in a bit of a mess on the personal life and home life and family life front. Being pulled lots of different directions too. But Al had always been good at keeping the personal out of the work environment. Didn't mean that Voight hadn't seen some of the distraction seeping into the bullpen too. Wouldn't say it affected O's work. But when you got down to it when any of that kind of shit is going on at home – no matter how cognizant of it you are – it's going to seep in some how. Can only compartmentalize and block that crap out so much. Voight knew that in his own life too. This constant balance of being the cop and being the father. Both were pretty fucking important jobs. Sometimes it was hard to prioritize – especially on certain cases – no matter how much you told yourself you were committed to family coming first. A lot of cops – they just ultimately weren't so good at the whole family first and father first thing. It was a tough fucking balance given the work. Never seemed to get easier either. Just different.

He cast O another look. "Never said if Lexi ended up getting early acceptance at any of the places she applied?"

Al just gazed at the bar at that. His shoulders slumped. "Lexi's decided she's taking a year off," he pushed out slowly.

"Mmm …," Hank nodded. He knew Al had wanted his daughter to go on to college. Been a running theme for years. So it wasn't like he needed to ask him how he felt about that. Had a pretty good idea without needing to talk about it. "What's Meredith got to say about that?" he asked instead.

The wine got brought up to hover in front of his lips while he contemplated how to answer that. Or not answer. "That Lexi needs some time to adjust to all the changes I've brought into her life without dealing with more instability and stress of the first year of college."

"Mmm …" Voight grunted and took a sip of his own drink and Al gulped down a mouthful of his after that canned response. But then he just shrugged at the guy. "Well, college will still be there in a year," he tried.

O made a sound like he didn't agree. But Hank could understand that too.

He'd been unimpressed when Erin decided not to at least do some classes at junior college after high school. Camille had been more upset. But it wasn't exactly unexpected. Getting Erin through high school in one piece had been enough of a task and her grades hadn't exactly been stellar to have her applying to anything too fancy.

The money situation hadn't really made it prudent to be pushing schooling at her if she wasn't onboard with the idea either. Him and Camille would've only been able to contribute so much. They hadn't exactly had eighteen years to bulk up an education fund for Erin. And even though they would've signed on as guarantors on any student loans she wanted to apply for, or that because of her situation there were a whole host of programs and funding that they might've been able to get at least a bit of financial aid from for her – she just hadn't been interested.

Him and Camille weren't sure that would go well. They didn't like the idea of her just bumming around. She wasn't at a stage in her life that a whole lot of free time seemed like a good plan. Erin still seemed pretty aimless about what she wanted to do. And as much as she said she thought she might want to be a cop – that was going to involve more than a few strings needing to be pulled given her past and given her unwillingness to start working at completing her semestered credits hour to have her application even considered.

Not that there was anything to consider at the time – they weren't even recruiting the year she finished up high school and that was even discounting the fact she wouldn't have a hope in hell of them taking her application seriously until she hit her 21st birthday. That was a lot of waiting around with her huming-and-hahing between high school and her turning legal.

Idle time was just asking for trouble with a kid like Erin. And they hadn't exactly gotten her to a place yet where she was entirely ready to head on back out into the world on her own. Sometimes Hank wondered just how well they'd managed at all even now with her coming up on her thirtieth and having done his level best to parent her full-time for sixteen-and-some years.

So rather than college, Erin had ended up doing three years of odd low-paying jobs and ride-alongs. He'd forced her to sign up with the Police Explorers right up until her 21st birthday to start bulking up some experience and contacts there since she was so adamantly against sitting in a classroom. Though, his and Camille's bantering at her had eventually got her to begrudgingly do some night school courses. She'd taken a few criminology courses but most of what she'd done had been some of the stupidest waste-of-time bird courses imaginable. Fucking waste of money but at least it meant she'd ended up putting in some effort in getting something that resembled some college – if not a degree. And her kicking around had meant that they'd had a bit of a babysitter available for J and E too. That'd helped them out a lot with where he and Camille were at in their careers too. That wasn't to say Erin had been thrilled about it.

There'd definitely been some resistance to them still having a whole host of rules for her now that she was an "adult". But the free room-and-board at home apparently won out. And even though Erin had wanted some freedom – she must've come to the conclusion on her own she might not be as ready for it as she thought either. The stability and structure of their family home made more sense at the time. For all of them. So they'd had a cranky 18-21 year old still living at home. Even when she got accepted into the Academy she hadn't immediately moved out, though, that had come quick enough. She'd quickly realized that dealing with the demands of the Academy and then the demands of a family that had an obnoxious teenager and a preschooler at home wasn't the best place to be effectively studying.

Voight supposed that it'd all eventually worked out. Though, not exactly the outcome that him and Camille might've hoped for her. But even everything Erin had come from – they could really only realistically hope for so much. And in the end – she'd come along way and she was still making her way.

Justin was a completely different story.

Him and Camille had thought from the get that their boy would go off to college. Just assumed. Saved for it from the moment they knew Camille was pregnant. Turns out they'd been saving for bail and lawyer fees – not an education. Though, their oldest boy had definitely gotten an education. Not one either of his parents were particularly proud of. One that likely would've shattered Camille if she'd been around to see it. But Hank didn't want to think about that.

J had always been a smart kid. Not like E had been when he was little – but bright. Wasn't one to study but still managed the good grades. Always had been one of these little effort as possible people. Voight hadn't much liked that in his kid. But it was more J's fucking attitude problem that rubbed most of his teachers the wrong way. Ever since he was a little boy.

Still, though, if they hadn't lost his mom, J likely would've ended up in college. Doing what? Hank didn't have a clue. Not with the way he'd gone through high school. He'd made sure to show as little interest in anything as possible. By the time he was a junior he'd dropped out of everything and done his best to alienate himself from the entire St. Ignatius student body. Started hanging more and more with the wrong kind of guys. Not the kind of people – and the kind of antics – that Voight wanted his son around. He'd been a royal pain in the ass as a teenager.

But Hank still didn't doubt that even with his rebel without a cause, anti-authority routine - he'd have gone off to college. Spent that money they'd worked so hard to save up for him while partying and drinking and acting like a complete garbage dick. He would've done just enough to pass – if even that. Generally pissing his parents off and breaking their hearts in a whole different way than he'd ultimately ended up doing. So maybe that wouldn't have been the right direction for him either.

Maybe he'd found his way eventually too. Or was starting to.

At least he'd found his way back into college. And he was doing it on the army's dime – not Hank's. He'd been working hard in the army. Garnering some attention. And now his kid was applying to the Green to Gold program.

Apparently another way he'd failed at Christmas was not being available for J to talk to him about that. To tell him the news. To get the briefing. But J was always finding ways to tell him what he'd done wrong – even now.

This program – if he got in – it'd mean his son would be tying his life to the Army longer. But that might not be such a bad thing either. J was likely looking at two to four years of schooling and about eight more years in the military – but as a commissioned officer in Signal Corps. That was something. Something good.

The big bonus on it was that it would hopefully mean that during his schooling his son might bring his grandson a bit closer to him so he could get a few years of seeing him more than a handful of times a year. Hell, J might even end up having to leave H and Olive in Chicago while he went off to his Signal Corps training down at Fort Gordon. But chances were that would only last so long, after he got through his training and ended up posted, chances were it'd be somewhere in the South. That wasn't exactly a weekend drive to visit his son and grandson. That was some years down the road. At least he'd get his son and daughter-in-law and grandson home for a bit. But he knew that if he did end up having them home for a few years, it was going to be that much harder when they were that much farther away.

But at least Justin had some direction at the moment. Would until he was well into his 30s – pushing 40 – by the sounds of it. Maybe he'd even be making a career of it. Really establish a life for himself and his family – and a way that Voight hadn't much thought would be possible for him for a long while. A way that made him proud of his son.

It was hard, though. He had these moments of real pride in the man his oldest son was becoming. But then there still was all these immature bullshit in their family dynamics – their own father-son relationship – that just continued to rub him the wrong way. That was still so fucking unresolved. And that just made things harder on everyone.

J had all this positive shit in the hopper. He was doing his best to take care of and protect his family – his wife and son. But he just kept picking at wounds and digging daggers deeper into his relationship with his brother and sister – and just not trying to work at any of that at all. Leaving it up to Voight to play referee.

He was so fucking sick of playing referee. And he just wasn't doing it this time. He was still too pissed and too hurt by some of the shit J pulled over the holidays to wade into it. And as proud as he was of J looking into this college thing, it fucking pissed him off – because it wasn't something that E and Erin were being made privy to.

Hank wanted to think that if J got into this program – if he got into one of his top choice schools, if he came home with his family for a few years – that it would be positive for all of them. That it'd bring them closer. That he'd have a relationship with his brother. That he'd get closer to his sister again. That him and Olive would want to spend enough time with them that they'd be willing and able to help with E a little bit – and that that would take some of the burden off him and a whole lot of burden off Erin. And that it'd bring E closer to his nephew too. It'd be good for all of them – in a whole lot of ways.

But that was just fucking wishful thinking at this point. So wishful that Hank hadn't even broached with E or Erin that this might be coming down the pipes. Because as far as he could tell J and Erin had hardly spoken since Christmas. And E was still hurting enough that he usually left the main floor whenever Voight got on the webcam with Olive and H. Doing his best to avoid having to talk to his brother who had hurt him badly and hadn't offered up anything that resembled an apology or an acknowledgement yet.

Thinking that J and Olive would somehow be extra help with E too wasn't likely going to be reality either. Olive might try a bit but she had the baby and she'd likely be picking up a job pretty quick if they were back in Chicago. They'd need the income. Balancing a baby and a job and army life and college. That was a lot on any one's plate. But it wasn't just that. It was that J just refused to acknowledge and accept what was going on with E. Voight couldn't figure out the entire psychology around it. But he at least knew that it came down to denial. And for now it made it pretty hard for his two sons to have a relationship. It was causing a lot of hurt for everyone.

And even though Erin and Justin had previously been tight – he wasn't sure that was ever going to be the same again. Not now. Though, he trusted they'd eventually work through it enough to at least be talking to each other again. But he also feared that some of Erin's insecurities would surface if J ended up back in town with Olive and the baby. She'd start doing her worry wart stuff about life milestones when she was doing just fine at the pace she was going at. But having a younger brother who'd been a bit of a screw up in recent years suddenly be the one married and with kids – and now going to college and looking toward a leadership role on a career trajectory – that was going to stir up some hard feelings.

So instead of bringing up any of it with his other two kids – he was just waiting it out. No sense stressing them out for nothing if this didn't pan out. And he didn't want to jinx it either. Not that he much bought into that kind of shit. But sometimes it was best just to knock on wood anyways.

"Justin heard anything yet?" Al asked.

Voight shook his head. Hadn't told his own kids what was going on but had O. Sometimes shit just worked that way too.

"Heard from one out West but still waiting on the local schools. Guess he won't know 'til around the end of March at this point. Should know if the school accepted him by the middle of the month but then there's some other acceptance process with the program," he allowed.

O let a little nod. "Who's he waiting on here?"

"Loyola and UIC," Voight muttered. "Think he'll do fine with Loyola with the Ignatius connection. But UIC is his first choice. Better Electrical Engineering program."

Fucked up part was that if J would pull his head out of his ass, he might figure out that him and E weren't so different. Fucking electrical engineering? That's something that Eth would want to talk to him about. Something they could relate to each other on. Maybe even something J could help his little brother with if E kept up with this robotics thing. If this aptitude and interest followed him through high school and ended up directing him into his own post-secondary career.

Because he and Camille had always thought E would end up in college too. Maybe a little more – a lot earlier – than they had with J or Erin. Such a fucking shining light of a little oddball kid. Voight still figured he'd get Magoo into school. Might be more of a technical school – but something. Hopefully. Going to take a lot of work to get him there, though. And then through it when they did beat that door down.

"That was Camille's alum, wasn't it?"

Voight grunted and rubbed at his face for a moment. "Funny how both the boys got that scientific, analytical mind of hers. But don't really have any hooks there. And different department. Don't think anyone would recognize his name. Maybe that's better," he shrugged. "He'll do OK, though. He's got the support from some of his commanders in all this. Been working hard."

"Always was a smart kid," O allowed.

"Too bad he was so fucking stupid," Voight muttered and took another sip out of his drink. Al allowed him a thin-lipped frown at that. "He's getting there," Voight tried to rectify his slag against his boy. "Starting to get his priorities figured out too."

"Guess fatherhood does that," O said.

"Mmm …" Voight allowed. It did and it didn't. For all the progress he'd seen in Justin – he still had a long way to go. "I wish I could tell ya it got easier after the kids were grown and there's grandkids on the scene."

"Don't remember anyone ever promising that kids were a cake walk," O allowed.

Voight nodded. "Somehow don't think we gave our parents this much shit when we were in our twenties," he muttered.

"Well, like you said," O mumbled between another gulp, "different era. These kids grew up a whole lot differently than we did."

"Fucking coddled them more than we should've," Voight stated flatly.

O shrugged. "Don't know about that."

Voight traced his fingers down the condensation on his glass. "Where's Michelle at tonight?"

"Boxing gym," O said flatly. "Ethan?"

"Robotics. Keep them late one Friday a month. Do whatever it is they do for a couple extra hours. Get them dinner. Take them over to the pool," he mumbled. "Head over in a bit. Just needed some air."

"Air's better outside," O said drily.

"Whiskey's debatably better in here," he put back to him and slapped down the rest of his drink – gesturing at the barkeep to bring him another. He glanced at Al to see if he wanted another too but he shook his head.

"Something you need to talk about?" O said after eyeing his rapid finish of the drink.

Voight gave him a side-glance and weighed that, squeezing at the bridge of his nose for a moment. He didn't fucking want to talk about it but somehow he really fucking needed to say it out loud and he wasn't ready to say it out loud to Erin yet. So who the fuck did he have to say it to?

He sat a bit straighter and looked the guy he'd known for most of his adult life – through good and bad and a whole lot of shit in-between – in the eyes.

"Docs at Med approached me about starting E on a clinical trial," he said flatly. "It's a drug they usually use on cancer patients. They've been experimenting with it on autoimmune diseases. Seen some results. With where shit is at with Ethan and how it's progressing in him – they think he's a good candidate to try this shit on."

O just gazed at him. Clearly he didn't know what to say and Al was a man of few words anyways. So when his second Manhattan got placed in front of him, he took the opportunity to turn away from that awkward silence and focus on his drink.

"You going to do it?" O finally asked.

"I don't fucking know," Hank mumbled and then cast him a look. "I keep trying to figure out how Camille would feel about me signing him up for this."

O leaned against the bar again at that. His elbows settling in place as he reflected on that. "Well, she was a scientist, Hank," he allowed.

Voight nodded. "Yea, somehow science seems to get thrown out the window when it's your kid." He sighed. "A lot of it's gut and fucking blind faith."

"So what's your gut saying?"

"What kind of father agrees to letting a bunch of docs pump chemo into a kid that doesn't even have cancer?" he said under his breath.

"How about faith?" Al asked.

He snorted and shook his head at that suggestion. "My head's telling me that I'm grasping at too many straws if I'm looking for miracles," he said flatly.

"It's not a miracle. It's science," Al said. "Maybe that's all you need to know about what Camille would think about it."

Voight just grunted and gazed into his glass. He was about ready to gulp it down. He thought he could use another one that night but he wasn't likely to get a third when he had to go pick up his boy and get him home. Eth was astute enough that he'd picked up on something being up even though he hadn't been involved in the discussion. Not yet. He'd have to bring him in at some point. He'd fucking have to bring Erin and Justin in too. Though, he had a pretty good idea what each of them would say. But for now he didn't need his youngest smelling the booze on him and wondering why he was showing up smelling that way.

"Always going to be paying for the debts of the past, aren't we?" Alvin said flatly, gazing into his own drink.

"Yea … I guess we are," Hank muttered. He'd been paying his penance for years. Figured he would be for the rest of his life at this point.

"You know something," Al put out there, giving him a look. "I'll do it for the rest of my days if I have to. No regrets."

Voight gave him a thin smile. "Amen …" he rasped and finished off that drink.


	57. Lucky Men

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET IN LATE FEBRUARY. IT IS SET AT THE END OF S03E16 and AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 54 - ONE-TWO PUNCH - in the story.**

"Laura. Laura," Dawson pressed into the phone, squeezing at the bridge of his nose. "I'm fine, Laura." He sighed harder. "I'm supposed to have him this weekend. It's his birthday. I made arrangements with work, with the gym. Bought tickets." He sighed as he listened to his wife's argument. "Work isn't getting in the way," he pressed at her more firmly, trying to conceal how much he was seething with it. "It wasn't a fight," he barked and then let out another exasperated breath. "Well, he's got to learn—" but then she just cut him off. "I wasn't gone that long," he sighed more dejectedly. It just was reaching the point that there wasn't any point in arguing back. It never got them anywhere. It hadn't for more than a year. "Yea, OK …" he sighed. "Fine. Just … let me talk to him first. … Because I want to hear it from him, Laura," he said more firmly and then shook his head and sighed again. "OK. … Yeah. Bye."

He sighed harder and slammed down the phone onto his desk – probably harder than he should've – and rolled his temples against the heels of his hands as he slumped against his elbows.

"You good?" he heard rasped at him and looked up to see Voight with his hands shoved in his pockets as he moved toward the exit of the empty and darkened bullpen.

"Yeah," Dawson allowed, pulling his hands away from his face and letting himself slump back into his chair.

It'd been such a shitty couple days. A shitty case. It'd eaten at his being. They all did in their own way. But the ones with kids? It was different. Especially this. A little boy? A retaliation hit? It'd taken it to a whole different level. Just brought it too close to home. Then add in Deigo being with him that weekend for his birthday. He'd lost his grip. He didn't want to admit it – but he had. Sometimes doing this job was too much. But someone had to do it.

So he just gestured dismissively at Voight. He didn't even need to, though. Even though his sergeant was examining him, he'd already given him a nod at his half-assed answer and started moving again. But Antonio let out another little sigh again and watched Voight's back for another moment.

"Hey," he called and Voight gave him a glance. "Ethan into cars at all?"

Voight gave a bit of a shrug at that but came to a stop, examining him carefully again. His hands bounced in his pockets.

"Sort of," he provided drily. "More into the remote control things generally than cars specifically. But still have his fucking diecasts all over the house for me to step on."

Dawson allowed a quiet amused noise at that and looked down at his desk again for a moment. He could relate to that. Diego was the same way. Or had been. Seemed like his little boy was becoming less and less of his little boy anymore – and he was missing it. He'd almost lost him and now he was slipping away right before his eyes.

"I've got some tickets to the Auto Show," Dawson said, looking back up at his half-ways boss, who was still giving him that measured look. Not one that he much liked. "If you wanted to take Ethan this weekend."

Voight smacked and bounced his pocket again, giving his head a small shake. "Appreciate that but he's got the Robotics thing on Saturdays and try to rest him up on Sunday."

Antonio gave a little nod and gestured dismissively again. He was already regretting he'd even stopped the guy from leaving to ask that because now he was still standing there and still looking at him. And it likely would've been better if he'd just let him leave.

"Yeah, no problem," he provided. "Just figured I'd offer."

Voight nodded but kept standing there looking at him. "Diego not into cars?" he asked, those pockets popping again.

"Ahh …" Dawson shook his head and sighed. "We had a bit of a fight. His birthday weekend isn't going exactly the way he wants. He just wants to …," he picked up his phone and tossed it to the side a bit again, " … head home to his mom."

"Mmm …" Voight grunted and examined him again in a way that just made it feel like he had to say more as much as he hated saying much of anything to Voight. They were both in agreement that less was more when it came to talking.

"He wanted some bus you rent for birthdays that the kids sit in and play videogames for three hours," Antonio muttered and glared at the phone again.

Voight let out another grunt but then there was movement and Dawson looked up to see the sergeant pull the chair out from behind Lindsay's desk and slouch into it – looking at him more. Apparently he was subjecting himself to being the sounding board that Dawson wasn't sure he wanted – especially when it was Voight.

"Didn't know that shit existed," Voight said.

Dawson made his own disgusted noise. "It's like four hundred bucks," he spat with some of his own anger – at the case, at the fight, at the cost, at his son, at society … at it all.

"Can think of better things to drop Four-Cs on," Voight provided.

"Yeah, no kidding," Dawson muttered. "So I told him no. But it wasn't even about the money. Just trying to make a point with him. And now I don't even know what point I was trying to make."

"Mmm …" Voight acknowledged. "Likely somewhere between 'I'm your father' and 'money don't grow on trees.'"

"Yeah, likely," Dawson sighed and gazed at his phone – almost hoping that it'd buzz again and Laura would tell him that she'd talked Diego down. That he was going to spend the rest of the weekend with him like planned. "But after a case like this do those points even matter …" he muttered.

"Mmm …" Voight allowed. "Or maybe making those points matter more."

Dawson let out a slow breath and turned to look at Voight again. He looked the same as he always did. The guy's face was so practiced. There'd only been a handful of times he'd seen emotions visibly play across it. And it was almost never his face that showed them. It was his eyes. But right then they looked the same as they always did.

"How do you parent after a retaliation hit?" Dawson put to him bluntly.

Voight just shrugged at him. "You've been doing it," he said flatly.

"You came closer to losing your son than I did mine," Dawson pressed.

Voight gazed at him – more glared – and smacked once. They'd never talked about it before. Never broached the topic. It was one of those unstated things – that Voight's family history was out-of-bounds. That the less you asked – the less you knew – the better. And beyond that – even though what had happened to Voight's wife, his son – it was public knowledge. But the dynamics of it – the understanding within CPD that Voight had been targeted because of his work in Gangs.

That the attack on his family – the death of his wife – had been in retaliation. And that his child was almost collateral in it too. That Ethan probably should've died. That they hadn't cared that it was a woman – a mother – in the car. That she had other children. They hadn't cared that there was a little boy in the car. That he was likely going to died. They'd just been shooting at Voight. Looking to destroy him. To hurt him in a way that Antonio didn't want to imagine – but unfortunately he could. He'd experienced with Diego and the possibilities of it had flooded against him again with this case and that little boy shoot three times in an alleyway and left to die. Killed by another child – his son's age. And orchestrated by high schoolers who were trapped in a state of mind fueled by revenge, payback, standing up for yourself with deadly force no matter the impact it had on your family, your friends, your community, your city. The ripple effect it created in the entire neighborhood. This never-ending mindless war on each other and this pit of despair fueled by history and drugs and guns and poverty. This cycle that just couldn't seem to be escaped and these dynamics that just kept on shifting – but not for the better.

But Voight's gaze shifted, looking beyond Dawson and to the window's ledge behind his desk. He pointed.

"I don't think about parenting after that day," he said and nodded at the framed photo of the birthday of Diego. Dawson holding his infant son. "I think about parenting after that day."

Dawson turned and looked at the photo. He'd been gazing at it almost endlessly lately. It seemed like the only thing that was keeping him grounded but somehow looking at it made dealing with the case that much harder too.

"That day," Voight put flatly, "one of the best of my life."

Dawson turned to look at him again. He'd shifted in Erin's chair. His hands resting across his chest like he was absolutely comfortable with this insanely uncomfortable conversation. This heavy topic that Antonio didn't feel like anyone could understand – not even his team. They hadn't been there. They hadn't it experienced it in quite the same way as he had. As his son had. They hadn't had to go on living and being a father and parenting after that. To keep doing the job and to watch your family life – the people you'd fought for and scarified for – just fall apart.

But maybe Voight got it. Some of it. In his own way. More than the rest. Or at least they had some sort of understanding. That like it or not – they'd collided into each other's lives. They'd impacted the other. They'd made choices that had affected the other. And now they worked together.

Some days Antonio didn't like that. Some days he still wasn't sure what to make of Voight. If he was a good cop. A bad cop. A dirty cop. A good man. A family man. Or a con man. He operated in areas that were greyer than Antonio preferred to exist in. But he'd learned not to judge cops too harshly. Not to judge Voight too harshly. And that he existed in more grey areas of his own than he wanted to admit. That he did just as many things for his family when push came to shove that he might not what to think that he should be capable of. But when it came to his family – his kids … his son – maybe all bets were off. Maybe areas weren't grey when it came to them. You acted. You took care of them. You made sacrifices.

"Being a father is one of the best things in the world," Voight spoke again – like he was stating the most obvious thing. But then he scrubbed at his face a bit. "Ethan, though – that day. He was early. My wife had a placental abruption. Scared the shit out of me. I don't scare easy. But he's doing a good job at keeping up his streak. Since day one."

Dawson made a quiet amused sound and gazed at his desk again. "Does he remember anything from the other day?"

Voight shook his head with that pout. "No …," he allowed. "Maybe that's better. But he also doesn't remember much of anything from before that day either. His mom included."

Dawson sighed at that. Somehow that hurt to think about. Whatever his feelings were about Voight – Ethan was a nice kid. A good kid. You could see that in him. A no matter how you cut it – he was still a little kid. His son's age. But Diego looked so much more grown up than Ethan. Maybe he tried to act more grown-up than Ethan. But Ethan had seen a lot too. Been through a lot. And you could see his scars from what happened. Not just the physical ones.

"How old was he?" Dawson asked.

"Seven," Voight said flatly, drumming his fingers against the edge of Erin's desk. "Barely. Celebrated his birthday a couple weeks before."

Antonio's eyes set on him at that. Voight had said it so flatly. Just another statement of fact.

"Six years old," Antonio mumbled. "Six years old and not even my kid and I want to do something crazy—"

"No you don't," Voight interrupted.

Dawson's eyes drilled into him. "I don't think you're the right one to be giving advice on that," he pressed at Voight. "Don't think I haven't heard the talk about what happened to the shooter. What happened to the guy who ordered it."

That smack of the lips. "You heard wrong," Voight said simply.

He glared. "Don't think I haven't seen how you go at people who come at you. Your family. Act like you haven't made all of us participate in that."

Voight just rocked back in the chair, weaving his fingers together like this was a perfectly natural conversation to have. Like it didn't jar him one bit. Not the topic. Not things he'd done. Things they'd all done. What they'd seen – dealt with – those past two days.

"And we rallied 'round you when they took your boy," he said flatly. "And went out on a limb for you again when you got your ass in a lurch with your moonlighting. And we've done it for O and Adam and Erin. Halstead. Roman. Your sister's chief. Severide. And we'll do it again when the rest of these jokers," he waved absently at the empty bullpen, "step in their own piles of shit. Because that's what being part of _this family_ is about."

Dawson let out an exasperated sigh. All these fucking grey areas. That it was OK to bend the rules – to make exceptions – when it came to them. And he couldn't act like he wasn't a participant in that. He'd done the same. Made the same exceptions. Done things – taken things – that he knew was wrong. Illegal. Could cost him badge. His morals. His soul. Or maybe they were the only things that made any of the rest of it worthwhile.

But how much of himself was he giving up in the process? What was he losing because of it? And was it really making any difference? The exceptions. The work. The scarifies. What was the point? The outcome? Cases like this made it all just seem futile. Any progress they were making – changes they were fighting for – all blew right back at them. What was it accomplishing? When little kids were still being shot in the streets? When that some how was OK with some of these people – in this city – they were supposed to protect? Take care of? Look after? None of that was OK.

"Look, Antonio," Voight said more evenly with almost a touch of empathy, "you can't take a case like this personally."

"IT IS PERSONAL," Dawson raged at him. "It's my city. My streets. And they did this in them."

"But it wasn't your son in that alleyway," Voight jammed his finger against the desktop as if to emphasize the point. "And, letting yourself go and do something crazy - it's not worth it."

"How can you – of all people – say that. They came after your kid," Dawson hissed at him.

Voight shrugged. "And I've had them come after Justin, my grandson. Erin too. And, I'm telling you Antonio – going crazy doesn't solve anything."

"Also not the right person to be giving that advice," Dawson huffed, shaking his head and glaring across the room.

Voight shrugged. "Or maybe the exact right person to give that tip," he rasped and Dawson glanced at him. "You are not the kind of man—"

"Don't tell me what kind of man I am," Dawson spat at him in anger.

But Voight's eyes just fixated on him for a long beat and then he finished his sentence like he hadn't been interrupted at all: "Who wants that on his conscience."

Dawson just glared at him.

"Crazy doesn't fix this," Voight nodded. "Doesn't make you any better than him. Them going to jail. It's better for everyone involved."

"So they're going to send a twelve year old to jail?" Antonio put back to him. "A little boy my son's age is going to go to jail for killing a little boy that was you son's age when they came after him."

Voight shrugged. "Yeah," he agreed. "That's what's going to happen."

"HOW DOES THAT SOLVE ANYTHING?" he spat.

Voight slouched back in the chair more and ran his fingers along the edge of the desk again. He just did that a long time. So long that Dawson thought the conversation was over. Long enough to make him madder at himself for having even engaged in this discussion. He should've seethed on his own. Laura was right. He was upset. He wasn't good for Diego to be around. So he should've just gone home. Taken his son back to his mom's. And just … dealt with this on his own. Buried it. Moved on. Like he was supposed to do.

"You know," Voight finally said. "I think the way any of this gets solved is people like us to keep doing what we're doing. And talking to kids like our sons and making sure they know what's not right and that all lives matter in this city – no matter the color of your skin or your income level."

"I don't know how to do that anymore …" Antonio muttered, looking way from that so self-assured face. The guy always looked so comfortable with everything. He could be cutting a guy's throat or waiting to be shanked on his own and he'd still have that look – like it was inevitable, like he wasn't afraid. Dawson wished he could pull that off as consistently as Voight. But maybe his Latino blood in him had his emotions run a little more hot than that. It wasn't that easy.

"Sure you do," Voight said. "Been doing it three years."

"And where's that gotten me?" he muttered, rubbing his hands against his temples again.

He felt Voight shrug next to him without even having to look. "Your boy wasn't dead in a side street," he rasped. "That's a second chance."

Dawson rolled his eyes before giving him a glance. A second chance? Separated. Divorce papers waiting to be signed. The family's home gone. His children in the suburbs and him not able to see them daily. Teenagers now. Slipping away from him. Some days he felt like he barely knew them anymore. And debt still mounting to try to manage it all. To keep his family a float. To continue to support them – while he drowned and watched them drift farther and farther away. All the while working a job that ate away at him. To watch people do this to each other? What was it worth?

"Hey," Voight shrugged again. "Sometimes the starts of second chances don't look pretty. Moving past these things. Takes time. Work. Give it that." He folded his hands across himself again. "Been almost six years and maybe my second chance is just starting to actually look like one. But I know it means I get to be real police. To be a father. Now a grandfather. So I keep doing those jobs. Cop. Father. Grandfather. And that's the best I've got for you. Keep doing the jobs. Best you know how."

"My son hardly wants to speak to me right now," Dawson pressed at him. "He doesn't even want to spend the rest of the weekend with me."

Voight just smacked. "I've made my point in ways that put my kids through shittier things than not renting them a video game bus," he put flatly. "All three of them have hated me. All three of them have gone through periods of not speaking to me. Or doing their best to figure out how to hurt me or push me away as hard as they fucking can. But all three of them are still in my life. And I'm in theirs."

Dawson just shook his head. He wasn't so sure Voight was one to get any sort of parenting advice from. He'd seen the results of his track record. He wasn't sure any of them were glowing examples of the kind of outcomes that he'd want for either of his kids. That's not what his family was going to look like. It wasn't their endgame.

But Voight just tapped on the desk and rose. "You know," he rasp as he walked the couple feet between the desks, again starting to make his way for the stairs. "Sometimes I ain't so good at multitasking. Deal with things in the moment. At work. At home. And sometimes I'm right. Sometimes I'm wrong. I accept that and know that in that moment, I did the best I can to protect this city. My family. And I don't spend a lot of time dwelling on those choices. I sleep at night. But a few years ago," he said and jutted his chin at Dawson, "I made some choices – and some people around me made some choices – and the culmination of that meant that I missed out on two years of Ethan's life. And I take responsibility for that. I know that my decisions – my actions – led to that. And there ain't no point in dwelling on it or wallowing about it. It happened. It's the past. That time is already gone. But I know – it's two years with my youngest that I ain't ever going to get back. And I've got a lot of things in my life that I've got to live with. But that one, Antonio. That one. That's my cross to bear."

And then the guy just shrugged, bounced his pockets and started to pace away again. Dawson let out an amused noise and Voight glanced at him.

"That's it?" he put to him. "That's what you got?"

Voight just shrugged, stopping momentarily. "Yeah, that's what I've got," he said and eyed him. But then shook his head. "Look, Bro, you're a good father. And you're a lucky man. You've got two great, healthy kids. Whatever you're going through on the home front – you've still got Laura in your life. Don't lose sight of those things on days like this."

He snorted and shook his head. "And now you just slink back into the shadows?" He almost hadn't meant to say it out loud. But he did. Sometimes he wondered how much this guy was actually the devil in lamb's clothing. How much were any of them really? He likely was too anymore. Maybe that was the only way to exist on this job in this city.

But Voight puckered at him and shook his head. "Nah," he muttered and gestured at the stairs. "Ethan's got one of his Robotics matches tonight," he said, like Dawson wanted any sort of explanation that normalized his boss. "I don't know what the fuck is going on and I really couldn't give a shit. But the look on my kid's face – fucking reminds me that being a father is still the best feeling in the world and that I'm still a pretty luck man too."

He really did move for the stairs at that. "Sometimes being a father is a lot like being a cop. That the biggest part of it in getting things solved – it's just showing up. Looking each other in the eye. Talking." He glanced behind his shoulder. "Vigil's tonight too," he rasped and then disappeared down the stairs.

Dawson just gazed at them until he heard the security door swing open.

"Tell Diego you've got those tickets," Voight called back up from the bottom of the stairs just as the door clanged back into place.

Antonio let out a sigh and gazed at his phone, lifting it and rotating in his chair until he was again staring at the photo of his son as a newborn. He should've known better about the world he was bringing him into.


	58. Not a Robot

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 62 - LUCKY MEN - in the story. The chapters that have been posted in the past couple days will be reordered in the next 24 hours or so so the chapter numbers will switch around significantly.**

Erin clomped up the steps of the bleachers and slid in next to Jay, purposely giving him a small nudge with her ass and shoulder. He glanced at her and gave her a small smile but set his eyes back on the RoboWars court set-up on the floor of the gym. He looked a little dazed. But Erin was sure they all did that day. They probably would for a while. That happened after cases like this. Sometimes shutting a case didn't mean you actually put it to bed. The human mind just didn't work that way. No matter how much they tried to teach you to compartmentalize and disassociate. She wasn't sure that was humanly possible. Maybe for robots. But she wasn't that. And neither was Jay.

"You disappeared," she said of his absence at the end of the day from the District.

"Yea … I needed some air," he muttered.

She nodded and looked at her plate of fries. It wasn't exactly the best meal choice – but at least it was food. She hadn't really been able to stomach anything for the past couple days. She wasn't really sure she could now either but it'd reached the point she thought she should try to get something into her. There were only so many options at a high school concession stand. If the cafeteria had been still open that would've been a different story. But given the choices in the grease stand – this seemed like the one that most resembled food. Kind of.

She blotted a fry in some ketchup and put it in her mouth. A slow chew as she stared across the gym too – trying to spot Ethan. Picking him out wasn't too hard. He was always a bit of a flurry of energy on game days. And him speeding around on his crutches definitely made him stand out in a crowd. But picking out and understanding what was actually going on on the court was a completely different story. No matter how many times Eth tried to explain it to her – he might as well be speaking an alien language. So she usually just set her eyes on the score board and gave the appropriate cheers when his team's points notched up.

She saw Jay looking at her – or rather her food. She eyed him for a moment as she nibbled a fry into her mouth. She waited for the inevitable comment about her eating fries – again. She was pretty sure for the rest of her life she wouldn't be able to eat fries without him making some sort of comment. And God forbid if she ever did get caught eating McDonald's. She'd never live it down.

But no comment came and his eyes just remained set on the food. His face looking as slack and lost as he had for much of the day. So she just held the plate toward him.

"Have some," she said. "There's lots."

His eyes darted at her for a second but then he wordlessly took a few and wadded them in his mouth. He always gave her a hard time about eating her fries one at a time – bite-by-bite – too. He always shoved his in his mouth three or more at a time.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here," she told him as they slowly shared the plate of food.

He shrugged and rested his elbows on his knees a bit – staring at the court again. "Me and Mouse had a bit of a … thing yesterday," he said and cast her a sad look. "Just thought I should … come out and show him there's no hard feelings."

She eyed him as she worked to read into that. But he'd quickly gone back to staring across the court.

"They spotted you yet?" she asked.

He gave a little nod and clutched his hands together. "Yea," he allowed. "I went down and said hey when I got here."

"I miss anything?" Erin asked passively.

Jay shook his head and shrugged. "I still don't get the rules of this fucking thing," he muttered.

Erin allowed a small laugh and he gave her a look. "I don't either," she provided.

He just grunted some acknowledgement and looked back to the floor, gesturing at it. "Eth seemed pretty concerned about how they were going to set up their barriers and move them during the match. Something about some of the competitors' robots having grappling capabilities."

She nodded and looked at the scoreboard. "They won their first match?"

"Apparently," Jay muttered.

She gave him a little smile. "Ah, well, at least that means they get to the next round," she said but Jay just shrugged. "Hank will be happy to catch some of it. That they weren't eliminated first round."

Jay made another little noise. "He coming over too?"

"Yea," she allowed, slowly chomping down another fry. "I think he was going to stick around until Antonio cleared out. He was still pretty torn up when I left."

"Yea …" Jay said quietly and let out a slow breath and then rubbed at his face. "It was a bad one," he provided under his breath.

"Yea …" Erin acknowledged but set the food down and scooted a bit closer to him, finding his hand. He let her, weaving his fingers with hers and then glancing down to look at them.

His eyes set on her finger. It was off-shift hours. The ring was there. She'd developed the habit of sliding it into place every day as she left District. It was a routine. A ritual. He knew she did it. But his eyes still seemed to sit there for a long time before he squeezed her hand tightly and shifted gaze back down to the court. Ethan's team wasn't planning. But they were off in their little prep area, clearly strategizing on how they were going to approach the next round – to try to come out on the top of this meet.

"Eth's not even my kid and I kept thinking about him on this one," Jay muttered. "Voight must be feeling head-fucked too."

She let out a little sigh. Her mind had drifted through a lot of things during the case too. She'd seen her own share of violence on the city's streets growing up. Seen what drugs and gangs did to neighborhoods. But when it came to these kind of retaliation hits – it ultimately was her own family that she thought of. And when she'd seen that dead little boy and the crushed parents – it'd been Ethan and Hank that her mind had darted to before it was able to focus on the task at hand.

"He's OK," she provided. And he was. Or at least he seemed to be. But sometimes Hank's emotions were hard to read.

"Are you?" Jay asked, eyeing her.

She gave him a thin smile and a weak nod. "Yea," she allowed. "I am."

And she was. It'd been a hard case. But she'd held it together. She hadn't let herself go down a rabbit hole. Maybe because she'd known she would if she let herself. So she'd focused on what she could do – what she could fix and solve – not all the large issues at play. Not the own personal wounds that it poked at. But it was hard because it did jab at so many.

"I don't know if I am," Jay muttered and looked at her. "You know how I've been putting off that talk?"

"Yea …" Erin allowed, measuring him.

"I think I want to talk," he near whispered but looked away from her – again gazing at the teams on the floor.

So she just squeezed his hand tighter and he responded by flexing his fingers and wrapping them even more firmly around hers.

"OK," she allowed. "Let's talk."

He reached and rubbed the heel of his hand against his temple madly and let out a sigh. "Not now," he said and nodded at the court. "I want to see this. Mouse. Eth …"

She nodded and leaned against him – trying to share a bit more support with him even though they were usually cautious about the amount of affection they demonstrated in public and in front of Eth. But she wanted – needed – him to know she was there.

"Me too," she said. "After …"

"Yea … after …" he muttered, his fingers briefly grazing across the scar on his neck before his arm restlessly settled across his thigh. His fist clenching and unclenching as he seemed to weigh in his mind what he wanted to hit.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: A chapter got posted earlier today — Vulnerable. It's the much anticipated post-McFlurry conversation. Also several chapters have been posted in the past 36 hours … Chapter 61-66 … Afterglow, Lucky Men, Baked, Unannounced, Vulnerable. Hope you haven't missed any. Please read and review. Your feedback is much appreciated.**


	59. Bedtime

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 58 - NOT A ROBOT. It will be reordered later.**

Hank leaned against the jam of Ethan's room – gazing inside. He knew his son had likely heard him come up – likely knew he was standing right there – but he just kept at what he was doing. Fiddling with the dinosaurs along the top of the chest-high bookshelf they had in the boy's room.

It was a nightly ritual. There'd been some nights where he'd still caught Magoo chattering at the plastic toys – or more reciting off their names and facts about them – just like he did when he'd been a little boy. But tonight he was just moving them. Fidgeting. Getting them all just right. Like he somehow believed that the things must've come alive while they were gone for the day and hadn't managed to get back in the exact spot they'd been left the night before.

Sometimes Magoo's little fidgets got to him. All these twitches in him. It just highlighted the fact that his kid wasn't that normal. But any comments he'd made about his son's fucking OCD and him linking it back to the kid's brain injury would get brushed off by Erin.

"Who do you think he got it from?" she'd thrown in his face more than once. Everything having to be just so. Everything having its spot. Ethan liking things the way he liked them. Want things to be done his own way – his way. It wasn't brain injury. It was Hank's nature or nurture manifesting itself in his boy. Maybe that made it just as hard to look at.

Kids end up being a mirror of yourself more than you want sometimes. Certainly makes you re-examine some of your habits and behaviors.

"You calling it a night, Kiddo?" he asked when his son still hadn't acknowledged his presence.

Ethan shrugged and gave him a little glance. "I'm tired," he muttered.

Hank didn't think it was just that he was tired. Though, he'd definitely been able to see his son's fatigue that night too. It was a long day for him. Put in a full day at school and then he'd had his RoboWars match after last bells. Hank had them dragged him out to the vigil in Harvey. He could tell his boy was fading but he thought it was important for his boy to attend. It was important for him to be there too. But at the vigil, he could tell with the way E was holding himself – and the way he'd slumped and fidgeted in the car on the way home – that he wasn't just tired. He was hurting. But E was stubborn when it came to taking the pain meds. Some days Hank wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. He had a love-hate relationship with having that kind of medication in his house and handing it off to his twelve year old as a solution to his problems. But for some kinds of pain – it was the solution to the problem. He didn't think at this time of night taking some – making him that zombie but giving him that relief for he could actually rest – was such a bad thing.

Funny how when Eth first got home nine months ago, get him upstairs and honoring lights out had been a battle. It'd continued through a lot of the fall – until he'd had his first flare. He slowed down after that and even though his boy was trying and pushing himself since the big one in December, he hadn't really bounced back. There wasn't arguments – battles of the wills – about bedtime lately. While E was at the age that most parents were back to dealing with those preschool tantrums about getting sent to bed – his boy was putting himself to bed earlier and earlier. Wasn't unheard of for E to disappear up the steps by about seven-thirty. On the days he pushed himself to stay up later – to get in his screen-time or to watch the hockey game with him – he was likely to pass out on the couch.

And it'd been one of those nights. It'd been pushing 9 p.m. by the time they got in the door. Usual lights out for Magoo, if he made it that late. But Hank generally gave some leeway on that on Fridays and Saturdays, if his kid hadn't been a pain in the ass all week and hadn't been acting like a tired, cranky little fuck all night. He'd thought Magoo was settling into the front room for a bit of TV by the looks of it. So Hank had gone to get a load of laundry started and to deal with a work call he'd deemed he could ignore while he was standing at the vigil. By the time he'd finished pacing the basement, though, and come back upstairs, his son had disappeared. Sure sign that he wasn't coming back down was the mutt having followed after him.

And there he was now – already changed into his sleep gear and doing his little ritual. Fucking Bear having taken up occupancy on his kid's bed. A situation Hank hated but no matter how much he barked at Magoo or the dog about it – neither seemed to be listening to him. Supposed it'd be Eth dealing with the brunt of it in a few more months when that dog doubled in size again and likely ultimately ended up weighing more than his kid these days.

"Think you're more than tired, Magoo," Hank put back to him. "You want to come back down and take one of your pills. Veg in front of the TV until it kicks in. Sleep better that way."

E glanced at him again. "The Netflix queue says you've been watching House of Cards," he said flatly.

Hank shrugged. "Yea," he allowed. "Checked it out."

The boy's glaze set on him. He could see the calculation and scheming in it but already knew where it was going – and it was a no-go.

"Erin and Jay watch it too," his son said.

"Mmm …" Hank grunted.

"Is it good?" he asked.

Hank shrugged. "Not bad."

"Can I watch it?" came the inevitable question – or request.

"Not a kids' show," he put flatly.

E sighed at him and looked back at his dinosaurs. "You say that about all the good shows and I'm not even a little kid anymore, Dad," he huffed under his breath.

Voight just crossed his arms in the door. "You get into high school and we can talk again about some of these shows you want to watch. 'Til then – PG-13, Magoo."

Hank could feel his son's eyes roll but apparently he was too tired and hurting too much to put up an argument. It was a useless argument. Voight wasn't going to change his stance on it. His kid had enough real life bullshit and trauma in his life. He didn't need to be ingesting fictionalized facsimiles of supposed reality. Thought that all these kids watching so much crap was just an example of piss-poor parenting. It could annoy the fuck out of E right now. Make him feel like he wasn't fitting in or missing out. But he was pretty damn sure that he'd have all the time in the world to get all caught up on all that bullshit when he was a little bit older. Hank would prefer that little bit older be about eighteen and out from under his roof. But that wasn't too realistic either. For now, though, he thought he'd try to hold off all the sex and violence consumption for a bit longer. As long as he could. He got exposed to enough of that through daily existence and fucking school kids anyway.

"Could put on that Star Wars thing," Hank offered.

E glanced over his shoulder again. "You think that show's stupid," he said flatly.

Hank just smacked at him. "Not much for cartoons," he allowed. Though, he'd admit as far as cartoons went, he'd probably take it over some of the fucking Simpsons and Family Guy crap that Erin and Justin had tried to watch in the house. Eventually they'd been allowed the Simpsons. Fucking Family Guy wasn't something he'd ever let be on in the house. Sure he'd be another one on the list of things that E thought he should watch in the bloody thing even still aired.

"I think I'm just going to go to bed," E muttered.

Hank watched him. Still fidgeting. He could do that for a good twenty minutes if he let him. But he wasn't going to let him.

"Then get under the covers," he ordered evenly.

E stopped with the fidgeting and eyed him. But he really was tired because there wasn't a protest about not being done with whatever the fuck it was he did at that shelf each night. He just grabbed the fucking Jurassic Park dinosaur hauled it over to the bed, nudging at Bear as he tried to pull back the heavy comforter.

Hank sighed a bit at that and moved into the room, tugging a bit at the mutt's collar. "Get off the bed," he ordered the dog more firmly.

Bear gave him a sad look that was matched by his son. "Don't make him leave," E near whimpered.

Hank just shook his head and snapped his fingers at the dog bed that was down at the foot of E's.

"You lay with dogs, you're gonna get fleas," he said. "He's got his own bed."

He knew that the mutt was only likely to stay in it until he was out the door and down the stairs. That E would likely be calling him back up to the bed before he'd even got the door closed. But, someone had to try to teach the dog some fucking manners and boundaries. And unsurprisingly that was falling to him. He was always the "bad guy". Tough love. The mutt clearly liked E and Erin better than it did him. But it also listened to him far better than either of the two fucking kids too.

"And he doesn't have fleas!" Ethan protested.

"Ethan," Hank put to him more firmly, "with your immune system, you don't need that mutt up in your bed."

"But he's my friend," E pouted at him.

"And he's right there," Hank said, jutting his finger at the dog and reaching to pull back the blankets more fully for his son. He was clearly overtired for them to be having this fight – on these terms.

"He's warm," Ethan tried.

"I bought you a heating blanket and an oil heater in here," he said. "You've got plenty to keep you warm without soaking up the dog's body heat."

His son gave him a dirty look but settled into the bed still clutching the dinosaur, which Hank reached and tugged out of his hands to set on his nightstand as he pulled the covers up over him and pressed the controller to get the blanket to start heating up for his boy. But his son gave him another look of disapproval.

"I'm not allowed to sleep with Indominus either," Ethan mouthed at him.

"You're too old to be taking dinosaurs to bed," Hank mumbled at him. He appreciated that the kid was attached to the thing. Made it seem like a less idiotic purchase but the extent that the toy got dragged to every level of the house and had to be in attendance if he was getting an IV done at the hospital was a little ridiculous. But as ridiculous as he felt that to be, Hank still found himself reaching for his kid's ratty stuffed toy dog that he'd had since the day after his brain was smeared across the pavement – and shoving it against his chest instead.

"So I'm too old for dinosaurs but not old enough for the TV shows everyone watches," Ethan muttered.

Hank smacked his lips at that and looked down at his son from his efforts to get him comfortably tucked in. Wasn't something E let him do for him most nights anymore. Definitely was too big for that. Wasn't exactly something that Hank felt the need to be doing nightly either. Not at that age. Though, he did appreciate getting the bit of one-on-one time at the end of the day with his boy. He usually just came up and checked on him anymore, though. Switched the overhead lights off at lights out. Peaked in on him again when he came back up for his own shut-eye later in the night – just to make sure he was OK. Especially on his bad days.

It was strange to think that he'd spent a lot of the days since he'd lost his wife just trying to get his youngest to grow up. These days, more often than not, he found himself wishing his baby boy could just be a kid for a little bit longer. But now he'd reached the age that all E wanted to do was grow up faster. Be a teenager. Be old enough for this and for that.

Hank didn't think there needed to be such a rush. His kid had dealt with enough grown-up stuff in his twelve years. Too much of most people's lifetime was being a grown-up anyway. Let him be a kid just a bit longer.

Funny to look around his room. Wasn't that grown-up. They'd ripped it apart in the summer. Torn down the wallpaper and repainted the walls. It was amazing how much bigger and brighter and spacious the room felt without those dark colors on the walls anymore. Supposed that getting J's junk out of there – and finally pulling down the bunk beds the other weekend – had helped with that too.

Slapped up some extra shelves for Eth too. He'd quickly gotten them lined (and organized) with his junk. Dinosaurs and die casts and baseball cards and little figurines. Posters of Jurassic World and the Cubs play-offs run and Star Wars covering up the door and closet paneling. It was a boy's room. Not a teenager's room. Not a man's room. Still a little boy's – and his little boy's at that.

He let out a little sigh and allowed himself to sit on the edge of E's bed – gazing down at his son.

"Don't know how we can go to something like we went to tonight and then you be asking to watch all this junk TV when we get home," he told his son.

"Dad, I know the difference between real and TV," E said.

"Mmm …" Hank grunted and smoothed some of his son's covers, ending up resting his palm against E's chest. Still little. Little enough that his hand could still cover a good chunk of his son's chest – could still feel the heart and the rest and fall of his tired lungs. "You know why we went to that tonight?"

"Because you worked the case," E said flatly.

"More than that," Hank put back to him, holding his eyes.

"Because someone shot that kid," E said with a bit more seriousness in his voice.

"You know why?" Hank pressed again.

Magoo fidgeted a little bit. "Gang stuff?" he asked timidly.

"Gangs. Teenaged kids making stupid decisions. People having guns who shouldn't have them. Vengeance through the wrong channels and in the wrong ways. And that little boy died for no reason. Another little boy's life is going to go down the shittier. Some older boys not even able to accept they did wrong. And a bunch of families – a whole community, a whole neighborhood – pulled apart and hurting because of it. Something like this hurts all of us. Our whole city."

"It's sad," E frowned.

"Yea," Hank agreed. "Cases like this are sad. But they're the ones that gotta to be solved."

"But you solved it, right? You caught the guy who shot him?"

"We caught him," Hank said. "But don't know we solved much of anything. Cases like this – gang violence, gun violence – it happens too much in this city. And I don't think any of us need to lose sight of that. It something all of us need to be working at solving together. Coming up with solutions. And, E, part of that I can do at work. But part of it, I got to do at home. It ain't just protecting you from it. It's making sure it ain't glorified and it ain't normalized for you to the point that you're just desensitized to it. And part of the way I try to do that is limiting the surplus shit you're exposed to."

E stared at him a bit and then shifted his eyes to his hand – pressing his fingertips against Hank's.

"Do you miss working in the Gangs Unit?" he asked.

Hank shrugged. "Yes and no. Like my crew now. Some interesting work. Cases that let me get shit off the streets before it gets to far into our streets. That's important to me."

"But you liked that you got to work with kids in Gangs?" he asked and gazed at him.

Hank grunted. That wasn't entirely accurate. "I think that kids about your age – a bit older – they're the ones that still have a chance of getting out. If they could trust me – and they could be brave and honest – we could make some real changes in their lives. That helps this city. And it has a trickle down effect. Doesn't just help that kid. Helps all of us. But I only got to work with and help so many kids while I was in Gangs."

"You helped Erin," E said.

Hank shrugged. "Your sister helped herself. I was just in the right place at the right time to give her a hand up in getting there."

"So how come you didn't help all kinds of other kids too?"

Voight gave him a thin smile at that. "I helped enough. When I could and how I could. I just didn't bring all of them home."

"Why'd you bring Erin home?"

He gave a little grunt and sat up a bit straighter, removing his hand and crossing his arms against his chest. He shook his head a little bit.

"You know, E, your mom would know how to answer that question better than me," he mused, gazing out the drafty window in his son's room.

"But mom didn't bring her home," E said.

"Mmm …" he grunted.

He wasn't sure Camille would've brought her home. Not the person Erin was when he brought her home. Not with what was all visible on the surface that night. He wasn't sure Camille agreed with the decision to bring her home that first week or even those first months. It'd taken time. For all of them. But by the end of it all – Camille treated her like one of their own. The fact some teenaged kid had been shoved in their door near kicking and screaming about it in the middle of the night had faded into the background. Erin had just become one of their kids. Reached a point that all blended together. The tough times and the good times. There were tough times and good times with all the kids. All people, really. Just family. Just like marriage in a way. Rough patches and then those ones where you couldn't imagine it being any other way. One thing Voight had learned was that when it was all said and done, it wasn't the rough patches you dwelled on. You couldn't and you didn't much want to. It was the good times. The happy times. And there was more than enough of those than to be stewing in everything that had been hard. Hardness was a part of life. Dues for the good moments. He figured they were worth paying.

He rubbed hi face a bit and looked back to his son. "Got mixed up with Erin when she was about your age. Seen her kicking around – in situations she shouldn't have been kicking around in – for a while for that. So knew her since she was a little kid. And she was a good kid. A bright kid. And dealing with things that no kid should have to deal with and with things that just weren't her fault and she was trying her best to figure out how to deal with all that. Reached the point that someone needed to be the grown-up in the room – who wasn't not that little kid – so I brought her home."

Ethan gazed at him. "But why her and not other kids, Dad?" he asked. "Her stuff was badder?"

Hank gave him a thin smile. "Badder isn't a word. Worse," he stressed. "And, yeah, Erin's situation was pretty bad."

He didn't know if it was better or worse than other kids he'd come across over all those years in Gangs. All that kids he still ended up crossing paths with now. But you couldn't hand out cards to them all. He'd always used his gut on when to give that card. Nine times over some twenty-five plus years with CPD. Was there an exact reason as to why it was those nine that he'd handed cards to? Why other's hadn't gotten them? Why there'd been now four people he'd gotten out – whatever that out meant for them. But Erin was the biggest out of all. A life changing one not just for her but for him – for his whole family. There reasons for all of it. Not exact. So there were reasons and there weren't. But he didn't regret any of those decisions. They'd been needed in that moment. They'd been the right thing to do.

Hank adjusted his arms against his chest. "You know, Magoo," he allowed, "over the years, I've talked to some other people who adopted older kids. And, I think …" he sighed and looked out the window again. He could more see his own reflection in the glass with the darkened outside than anything else. He wasn't sure he much liked staring back at himself. "Sometimes in your life you're going to meet people who just feel like this missing puzzle piece," he said flatly and looked back at his son, pointing at his chest. "You're going to feel it. Here," he tapped his own chest and reached and poked at his son's chest – probably a bit more firmly than he needed to. "And when you feel that – you should pay attention."

E just looked at him for a long beat. It almost felt like a make or break moment. Like his son was judging him in a way he didn't think he wanted to be judged. Like he'd somehow pulled back the veil on adulthood a bit more for his point and in doing so he'd pulled away some more of his childhood. That innocence that had been so firmly pulled way from his boy when he was just seven years old.

"So Erin's one of your puzzle pieces?" E squinted at him.

Hank shrugged and shook his head, looking back into the glass. "Yea," he allowed flatly. "But I think she was more a puzzle piece for the whole family."

"Because you and Mom wanted me and J to have an older sister," Magoo provided.

Hank allowed a little snort at that and brought his eyes back to his son again, giving him a thin-lipped smile. He reached and smoothed at his hair. He'd been told his boy might be losing it when they started this trial drug. He'd told himself – and his son – that wasn't a big deal. It was just hair. It'd grow back eventually. But he'd been doing his best to try to forget the fact that his boy had his wife's golden locks. It was both long enough and short enough right now that it had those springy curls. Just a mop on his head. He knew if his son wasn't sick. If he wasn't so socially awkward and so lacking in a filter. If he didn't have that deformity on the side of his face. He'd be a lady killer. He'd had those little girl's attention already. And he'd likely be still excelling at his baseball so well that he'd be in with the popular kids too. Have a nice little group of buddies.

"Think the two of you need an older sis keeping you in line," Hank put back to him, dropping his hand away. He didn't like thinking too much in front of his boy.

"She's pretty good," E allowed. Hank snorted again and shook his head at that. "You seem sad tonight, Dad."

Hank shrugged. "Cases like this get to me a bit sometimes," he allowed.

"Because a gang shot him?" E said.

"Because we've got a war going on on our streets and …" he shook his head. How do you explain it to a twelve year old? But it was them that this needed to be explained to. Get at them young. Sometimes it seemed like the only way to fix any of this. The grown-ups sure seemed to be doing shit all in figuring out an effective way to get the violence to stop. The causalities.

"And in war innocent people get hurt?" Ethan provided again.

Hank gave him a nod. "Yea," he agreed. "They do. Some times they're just causalities. But sometimes they're purposeful targets. Bugs me either way. But the purposeful targets really pisses me off."

"Because they hurt me and Mom?" E asked.

Hank frowned at him. "Yea," he nodded. "That upset me. Hurts a lot. But even if that hadn't happened – hurting … killing … an innocent kid on purpose. Makes me pretty mad."

"A guy on Robotics says his dad that Chicago police are corrupt," E said. "Especially the ones living and working where we live and you work, Dad. But doesn't corrupt mean you take money for stuff or like bribes?"

Voight grunted and crossed his arms again. "Usually it's people who don't know how the world works who make those kinds of comments," he said.

"He said Chicago police use excessive force and kill people all the time too," E said. "And that they cause lots of problems in the city too because no one can trust them and they don't really help anyone."

Voight frowned at his son and gave a little nod. "What do you think of all that?"

E stared at him. His eyes darting as he tried to read his father's emotions. "That you and Erin help people and that we aren't very rich if corrupt is taking money."

"Mmm …" Voight nodded. "So what'd you tell the kid?"

"That he doesn't know what he's talkin' 'bout."

"Doesn't sound like he knew what he was talking about," Voight allowed.

Ethan went back to look at him. "Dad, do you think I'm going to be at least as tall as you?"

Voight shrugged at him. "Likely."

E reached and tugged at his shirt sleeve until he let his crossed arms loosen and fall away from his chest. His son reaching and measuring his hand over the top of Hank's.

"You aren't as tall as J or Jay but you're really strong, Dad, right?"

Voight snorted at that and pulled his hand away from his son, swiping at his mop of hair again. He hadn't fallen from super hero status yet in his youngest's eyes. That was definitely on borrowed time.

"I do alright," he allowed.

E pulled his hand off the top of his head and examined it again. "Diego's my age and he's way taller than me now," he muttered.

"Mmm …" Voight allowed. The two boys near standing near each other at the vigil had been a pretty stark visual of just how much Dawson's boy had hit puberty. Tall and built kid. Another good looking kid too. Not that nine-year-old that had been abducted. Growing up.

"Most kids in my class are taller than me now," E provided too.

Hank just shrugged. "Look, E," he sighed. "We've talked about this. Middle school. You guys are going through puberty. Everyone's going to start when their body is ready to start. That's going to be earlier for some than others. You'll get there eventually. Don't be in such a hurry. Not anything you, me or anyone else can do about it."

It was a partial lie. E may be screwed in the puberty department where they eventually reached the point they started injecting his son with shit to get adulthood to kick him in the ass. But that wasn't likely to happen until he was about sixteen years old so there wasn't a lot of point in dwelling on it right now. Like a lot of things.

"When did J start?" E whispered.

Hank shrugged. "Don't remember," he said. It wasn't the kind of thing you took note of for the baby book. But he also knew that there hadn't been any concerns with his oldest that he wasn't developing and growing up at a rate that seemed behind all the other kids. "Someone giving you a hard time?" Hank asked.

E shrugged at him. "One of the teams complained about me today. They thought I looked too young to be on the Tech team. That I should only be allowed to be on the Lego team. So then Coach had to show him the roster and my birth date. But he said if they make a big deal about it, that we might have to take my birth certificate in for them to see or whatever."

"Mmm …" Voight grunted and rolled his eyes. "Some people are just poor losers."

"They won," E said flatly. "We didn't do very good tonight."

"Can't win all of them," Hank said.

"We have to do really good at the next two matches if we want to have good rankings for City, Dad," E said.

"Mmm …" he allowed. "Sure you'll do fine."

E sighed and sunk into his pillow again but deposited his hand on top of Hank's and gazed at it.

"I'm not going to miss Robotics much with the new treatment, right?" he asked quietly.

"Talked about that too," Voight rasped. "You aren't going to get to practice on Monday. We'll see how you do."

"I can't miss too many practices, Dad," E pressed at him. "Or I lose my spot on the team!"

"And we are going to do what we can to make sure you aren't missing school," Hank told him sternly. "Not getting too behind is our priority."

"I can't miss Robotics practice either," E pressed.

"We'll see how that goes," Hank said firmly.

E sighed and went back to looking at their hands. "I'm glad we don't have practice tomorrow," he said quietly. "I'm real tired."

Hank was glad his boy didn't have practice that Saturday too. Positive about Friday night practices or meets – usually meant they gave the kids Saturday off. They needed that this week.

"Then let's get you to sleep," Hank said and patted his son's chest and moved to stand, stooping slightly to put a brief peck in the center of his kid's forehead. Another thing that his kid wasn't likely to let him do too much longer and already something he didn't do everyday. He headed for the door – switching off his son's bedside light.

"Dad," E called at him just as he was about to flick off the overhead.

"Mmm …" Hank acknowledged.

"Are you scared about Monday's treatment?" his boy asked.

A simple question. But it wasn't. He had a whole shit load of emotions about the thing. He didn't think he'd be much of a father if he didn't. But he also wasn't one who comfortably dealt with emotions. And he'd been doing his best to ensure his son wasn't exposed to any of his own anxieties or reservations about this path he'd put E on. He just had to hope that he'd picked the best path for him. That it made sense. Had to know he'd made the best decision he could with the information he had in front of him.

"Are you?" he put back to him.

"No," E said. "I'm just scared I'm going to miss Robotics and get kicked off the team."

"Don't think you need to worry about that," Hank said.

E nodded a little. "Then you shouldn't be scared 'bout it either," he said. "Because I can tell you're worried."

Hank gazed at his boy through the dimmed light. For a brain damaged kid who had trouble with filters – sometimes he was really too fucking astute.

"The new Topps series released this week, Dad," E put to him. "For spring training. I know you think they're a good distraction at the hospital. So we can go to Hobby Shark tomorrow and I'll use allowance to get a jumbo pack. Then you can help me read them on Monday. So you're focusing on something else."

Hank let out a little snort at that and allowed his son a thin smile. "You know, you're one of the best things that ever happened to me," he told his boy.

E wrapped his blanket around himself and rolled over onto his side. "And Erin and J and mom and Henry. But not in that particular order and it's not a competition," E muttered, his eyes starting to drift shut. "You tell me all the time. Even though you don't like repeating yourself."

"Mmm …" Hank allowed. "I don't mind repeating that one."

"Night, Dad," E said quietly, his eyes already shut.

"Night, Kiddo," Hank allowed and pulled the door partially shut. "Love you …" he whispered a bit more quietly as he stood in the hall.

He wished Camille could see the kind of kids they'd produced. The best things in both their lives. But now she was a missing puzzle piece that he knew wasn't ever going to be able to found or duplicated. Instead he just got bits and pieces – glimpses – of that missing piece in his kids. Some nights that was almost enough. But never quite.


	60. Those Eyes

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 58 - NOT A ROBOT.**

"Do you really think I'm 'that guy'?" Jay rumbled beneath her ear.

Erin lifted her head from his chest to gaze at him. He wasn't looking at her. He was staring off at the ceiling. His arms hadn't wrapped around her – even though they'd been laying in the bed for some time. He was like a plank on the bed. Broad. Stiff. Unmoving. But she'd still curled up next to him. Embraced him. Tried to be there for him and give him some comfort. But he really hadn't seemed ready or willing to accept it. It so rarely was. For all the walls he felt she had – he had just as many. If not more. And he was more unwilling to let any of them come down than she was.

She didn't know what had happened that night. What they'd talked about. She knew he'd said he wanted to talk. That he was ready to. Finally. And he likely thought he had talked. That he'd explained it all to her. Said what he needed to say or what he thought he needed to say that night.

But she hadn't known what they were talking about. Not really.

He'd sat on the couch looking glassy eyed. He wasn't really there. And he'd recited off something about not wanting to come home because he couldn't look into the eyes of the wives, the girlfriends, the kids, the little brothers and sisters, the parents … the families … of the guys who hadn't come home. That that scared him. Scared him more than being constantly under fire in Afghanistan. Scared him more than some of the awful … awful, he'd stressed again and again … things he'd seen in the theatre of war. Because he wasn't sure he'd come back. Maybe he hadn't wanted to come. That no, he really hadn't wanted to come back. He wasn't supposed to come back. Even after his mom was sick, he hadn't wanted to come back and see those eyes. Not hers. Not all those other people's that he was supposed to be honoring by leading the best life possible. For them. A meaningful life. But how he didn't know what the fuck he was doing.

How he'd seen those eyes again in those parents in that case. How he wasn't doing his job right when shit like that just kept happening on the streets of his city. How they lived in a war zone that he didn't know how to operate in. That he didn't know how to fix – no matter how many days he scrapped on his vest and a gun and a badge. That it didn't seem to be getting better. That the landscape just kept changing. And sometimes that got him down. It made him think more that this wasn't the war he was supposed to be fighting. That he wasn't supposed to come home. Because what was he accomplishing here anyway?

He hadn't helped his mom. She was still gone.

He didn't help the city. It was just case after case after case.

And then he'd realized looking into the eyes of those parents this case – those parents of a lost little boy – that he was just looking into those eyes every day when he was looking at her and at Ethan and at Hank. That they had those eyes. Those eyes of someone lost. And he just kept staring at them every day. Into them. And he didn't know how to fix that either.

And then his glassy eyes had gone from glassy to teary. And he'd tried to hide it. He'd curled into himself on the couch. His elbows on his knees and his chin to his neck. And his eyes away from her. His flinching and stiff body language when she reached for him. When she'd tried to assure him that he was supposed to come home. That she was glad he came home. That the work he did was useful and important. That he was helping his city and honoring his lost friends and colleagues and soldiers. And his mom. That her and Ethan's and Hank's eyes might show loss but that was no fault of his and that their strength came from each other. There might be sadness in their eyes – but they weren't lost.

But she didn't think he'd heard any of that either. And if he had – he hadn't been able to register it or process it. And she was sure it was things he'd heard before. But it wasn't things he was able to accept. And Erin could understand that. Because her mother had made her feel like she was a fuck-up and not supportive enough and the source of all things bad that happened to her and their family. Bad news. Born into it. The cause of it. Could never escape it. And likely should've been dead on the streets long ago.

But that was not her destiny. It wasn't the plan. Or her rightful path. Just like Jay's wasn't to be gunned down in some desert in some far away land fighting a war too complicated to explain to anyone. None of it made sense. Just like what happened on the streets of Chicago now – still – didn't make much sense. And the most you could do was to find people to walk that path together. To keep walking. To keep moving forward. To do the best you could as each obstacle presented itself. And she was glad she'd found him to do that with. That out of all the things in her life that didn't make a hell of a lot of sense – that Jay somehow made sense. No matter how complicated or stupid or against the rules it was. It made sense. It fit. More than a lot of things in her life. And to her that meant that neither of them were supposed to be on another path. Neither of them were supposed to have died somewhere else doing something else. Neither of them weren't supposed to be there. They were right where they were meant to be. Even if they didn't understand it. Even if they had trouble accepting it. Even if they didn't feel worthy.

Somehow they were. To someone or something. They were.

But instead Jay cried. Without crying. His body shaking as he tried to hide it from her. Silent tears wrecking through his body and this shame radiating off him that he was allowing himself to split in front of her. Like she was somehow not allowed to see it. Not him like that. Like it would some how make her lose respect for him. Make her see him as less of a man. When in reality, it made him more of one to her.

So she'd gathered him. She'd stood and taken his hand and tugged on it until he rose and followed her to the bathroom. And he'd continued to shake and try to hide his face from her as she undressed him – and herself – and started to watch in the shower – steaming hot – and guided him in. And she'd held him. So stiffly until he finally brought his arms around her and continued to shake against her. But his tears were hidden. Mixed in with the water so she couldn't see them – even though she could feel the sticky saltine of their off-heat pressed into the base of her neck and then trailing down where her shoulders joined. Erin didn't acknowledge them, though. She just held him tighter and let him slowly calm until the water ran cold and gooseflesh started to form on their bodies.

They'd had sex when they'd left the bathroom finally. There hadn't been any talking. And it'd been slow. He'd kissed her and gazed at her with his eyes brimmed red and puffy. The tear streaks still not completely washed from his face and the five o'clock shadow bristly against his face and her skin. And she just cupped as his cheek while he slowly ministrated against her until he came. Him struggling just as hard to hide his emotion in that moment as he did to hide his tears.

She'd touched him and caressed him and pressed light kisses along his collar bone until his breathing settled and she'd settled against him. His breathing was so shallow and his heart beat had so slowed that she'd thought he'd drifted to sleep. That the emotion had taken it out of him. That his mind and body had demanded a break. Until he'd rumbled his comment at her.

She gave him a soft sigh and ran her fingers more gently over his chest. "We don't have to talk about that tonight, Jay," she said. Because they didn't. He'd said enough. He'd given her something. That counted. As much as it did and it didn't. Sometimes it was best to do these things bit by bit. Piece by piece. Bite by bite to get the elephant out of the room.

And they both had some pretty big, glaring elephants. Giant pink ones, she thought. Ones that couldn't really be ignored no matter how hard you tried to look in another direction.

"I've been thinking about it since you said it," he said more quietly. "But … I can't be that bad. We still have sex. We just had sex."

She smiled a little. "Because I'm not that girl," she put to him. "I'm not going to … cut you off … just because we're … working through some things. I don't want our sex life to be some sort of manipulative tool …"

She knew if he wanted to he could come back with ways she had used sex – or her sex – manipulatively. Their years of flirting. Teasing. Them doing nothing but her flaunting the possibility in front of him. Her offering up sex in exchange for help finding a new couch – and getting it moved into her condo. But at the same time … it wasn't manipulation. Not the kind she was talking about. That they were talking about. And they both knew that.

"But you don't like the sex we're having …" Jay said flatly.

She sighed against him and rubbed at his shoulder, gripping it. "Babe, we really don't need to have this conversation tonight. You're spent."

"I want to talk about it …" he said.

She lay against him for a long moment. Organizing her thoughts. Deciding how realistic it was to have anything that resembled a real conversation in that moment. If she'd just upset him more. If he was too shutdown and defensive from what they'd already tried to plough through. All the emotions in that.

But then she let herself rise. Adjusting her legs so she was sitting cross-legged next to his hip. The blankets falling around her and her gathering them slightly at her waist. She felt naked under his gaze like that. Too naked for this conversation. So she glanced around the bed for any clothing only to realize they'd been left in the bathroom. She reached and lifted her skewed pillow to see if her balled up sleep clothes were still there from the night before. They were and she pulled on a slightly sour smelling tank top that should likely go in the wash rather than over her head but used it as armor anyway. She briefly contemplated pulling on the sleep shorts there too but settled on just pooling the blankets around her waist more tightly as he watched her partially dress. He'd moved her hand to stroke at her knee. It'd been about the first real touch he'd given her since they'd finished. Maybe the first truly real touch all night – where he was seeing her and not just trying to escape his own turmoil and emotions.

She gave him a thin smile and reached to lace her hand with his. She held it tightly. His thumb stroking over the top of her hand.

"I like the sex we're having, Jay," she told him gently. "A lot," she tried to stress. "There's just some things about it that sometimes I don't like and over time have raised some red flags for me."

"Like what?" he asked.

Those eyes were just set on her. Looking straight through her. There weren't that glassy glean to them anymore. They were set in that stare. The one that scared her more than any emotions she saw in them. Because there was this pain – an emptiness – to them when she saw them that way. The look of someone who'd been through something. Post-traumatic stress offset by denial. Denial that was needed for survival.

She allowed a little sigh and reached to put her other hand on his chest. To feel his heart again. His breathing. To give him some connection. To also measure more of his response as he reacted to things that he might think he wanted to hear but he likely didn't. Especially that night.

"You put your hand on my throat a lot," she put to him flatly.

He gazed at her. "It's not like I choke you," he said with just the tiniest edge.

She shook her head and allowed a little shrug. He was right. He didn't. "But you get a look in your eyes, Jay."

"Because I do it when we're …"

She shook her head harder and interrupted him. "It's not just you in the moment, Jay," she said. "It's not arousal or excitement that's behind your eyes when you do it. And it's why I move your hand."

He just gave her a long look. He didn't argue. He didn't react further. He just looked at her.

"You can be rough," she put to him. "Not hit me rough or knock me around rough. But you're pushy and you like to be in control. You're really clear with your body language and the positioning that you want to be dominant. And sometimes that feels like you're trying to dominate me."

"You're making it sound like—"

Erin shook her head again. "I'm not, Jay," she interrupted more firmly. "Everything we've done together has been consensual. You've stopped things when I've asked. You've laid off when I've asked. It's not that. It's just that…" she sighed and gazed at him. "You always have to be in control. You exert that control over me whether you know it or not. And sometimes I don't mind that. Because … I like to be fucked sometimes. And I trust you. But … I just … I like to have some control in the bedroom too. I need to."

He gazed at her in this way she could tell he was struggling to understand. Trying to process. Trying to come up with some explanation that didn't damage his manhood or their relationship.

"I don't hurt you," was what he managed. "I … take care of you. I thought … we're having fun? Sometimes … it's really good? And … we don't just fuck, Erin. I mean … we make love. A lot."

She gave him a thin smile. "We do," she agreed. "And I really … really, Jay … love when you make love to me. But I'd really love to get to make love to you too and … you make it really hard for me to do that."

He shook his head and looked away. "We make love to each other …" he muttered.

Erin reached and cupped his cheek, bringing his eyes back to her. "Jay, babe … you move my hands during foreplay. When we're kissing."

He rolled his eyes. "Why do I want a hand-job if we're going to have sex?"

She tilted his chin again so he was looking at her. "Because I'd like to touch you and because I'm pretty sure that I can make you feel pretty good." He just made a sound that wasn't agreement. "Even though we've talked about it, you position yourself in a way that makes it clear you want head." He let out another sigh and moved his chin away from her fingers. "And you always have to be on top and in control when you cum, Jay. And we always have to be facing each other too. Always."

"So, maybe I don't have as much experience as you think," he muttered at a near whisper. "Maybe I'm not the dog you think I am."

She frowned at him and allowed herself to lower back to the mattress, curling against him and resting her head on his shoulder, gripping at the opposite one.

"You have plenty of experience," she said against his chest. "But you aren't a dog. You aren't that guy. And I can tell you haven't been with a lot of women."

"What does that mean?" Jay said with some agitation.

She shrugged. "It doesn't mean anything. It's just … I can tell. And I like that. It … makes it more … special … that you want to be with me."

He made a small sound but stayed quiet under her for a while then. "You're making it sound … like I'm not doing things right or giving you want you want or need …" he finally managed.

"I just think we could be … better … at some of this stuff if we … talked about some of our boundaries a bit, Jay. And what's behind them. We've been together long enough that we're both seeing them. And … I guess … in the long-term – to make things really work … I think we need to talk about this. Even though … it makes us both uncomfortable. Vulnerable."

He made a sound. A sound that acknowledged he'd heard her. But there was nothing more. She waited. She let the clock tick. But he didn't offer anything else. Not then. Not yet.

She shifted her head and gazed up at him. He'd gone back to staring at the ceiling. His body stiff under hers. So she just pressed her lips to the center of his chest one more time.

"Whatever happened," she told him quietly, "just know that it contributed to the man you are today. And I love that man. And I love you enough that I'm not running away from this because it's hard. And I'm not scared of whatever it is. I just want to understand you more and be there for you."

"It's not worth knowing or understanding …" he muttered.

"It is," she insisted in a whisper against his chest. "Because you're worth knowing and understanding. And your eyes are worth looking into and seeing just as much as any of those ones you get scared of looking into. Your eyes don't scare me."

The silence feel between them again. Her listening to his heartbeat. The quiet thud. His warm skin. His rough hands soft on her shoulder. And that icy stare of his looking off into that nothingness he seemed to long for but was terrified off too.

"I love your eyes …" she whispered.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: OK. So I decided to post this as is. I know it's not quite the backstory that some want for the McFlurry climax. There will still be Jay's backstory. But I've just decided to attach it with a bit different moment. But it's going to come out.**

 **Also — the chapter before this — FINGERPRINTS — was also posted today. Please be sure to check it out.**

 **Feedback is always appreciated.**


	61. Back Porch

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS SET AFTER THE BEDTIME CHAPTER. BOTH CHAPTER WILL EVENTUALLY BE MOVED UP TO AROUND WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 61 - BANANA PANCAKES.**

"The car's out front," Erin muttered as she parked her own vehicle across the street and started to undo her seatbelt to get out.

She hadn't heard from Hank since early afternoon. Nothing. Not a peep. No one else on squad had either. The last thing he'd texted was that they were wrapping up at the hospital and they'd be headed home. But then nothing. She'd sent him a few texts to ask how things had actually gone and how Ethan was doing but there'd been no reply. So she'd resorted to stepping into the break room and actually calling a couple times but he wasn't picking up and wasn't responding to the voice messages she was leaving either.

That wasn't exactly abnormal Hank behavior but it still had her a little worried about what was going on. Though she tried not to get overly agitated about it during the workday. To not let it seep into the job. Because Hank fucking hated when people brought their personal shit to work – particularly when it wasn't related to work in any way. So she'd kept it in check but as soon as shift was done she was heading over. Unfortunately it'd been the kind of day that had run late and it was now the early evening that she finally pulling up in front of the house.

"House is dark," Jay provided as they crossed over to the door. "Maybe they're sleeping."

She made a sound of acknowledgement. But she doubted it. At least Hank wouldn't be. Not this early. "He keeps it dark a lot," she allowed.

She pulled out her keys and unlocked the door – twisting the knob and letting them both inside. Jay shut the door behind them as she trailed down the hall without taking off her boots.

"Hank …?" she called out carefully, glancing into the darkened rooms and flipping on some of the lights as she went.

His most likely place would've been his study but he wasn't in there or the kitchen at the back of the house. She stepped into the little mudroom off the kitchen. His and Ethan's jackets and boots were in there so they hadn't likely taken the dog out for a walk. But Bear hadn't even appeared yet. She stepped back into the dining room and looked at the door to the basement. It was closed tight. No sound of pawing on the opposite side so Bear wasn't likely locked up but she opened it anyways and peaked down into that dark space.

Suddenly the still space was broken by a creak in the floor above her. She glanced at the ceiling and let out a small sigh of relief. Jay must've been right. They'd fallen asleep. The day must've been harder than they'd anticipated. Still she wished Hank could've at least flagged that for her so she wasn't going out of her mind with worry all afternoon. Sometimes he could be so fucking dense and self-involved. His way or no way.

She moved back toward the front of the house as the footsteps overhead continued toward the stairs. They were accompanied by a thud from Hank's bedroom too and the click of claws on the hardwood. Ethan must've been feeling especially bad if 1) he was likely sleeping in Hank's bed, since that sounded like where Hank was coming from; 2) the dog had been allowed on Hank's bed, which was pretty much a corporal crime any other day.

She saw that Jay must've heard the movement too and taken it as a sign they'd be staying at the house a while – not running around looking for them – and he'd stooped to unlace his boots by the front door. But then she'd heard Hank's rasp from near the top of the stairs.

"Don't take off your shoes," he'd said. And Jay had stopped his movements, glancing up the stairs and then slowly straightening. He had that look on his face that clearly said he was being given a stare down by Hank.

She cocked her eyebrow – slightly unimpressed at him, but at whatever was going on here – and moved the rest of the way down the hall until she was nearing the gaps in the banister and could look up to watch Hank come down the stairs. He caught her eyes. His looked serious.

"Hey?" she said. "Is everything alright?"

He just grunted and came the rest of the way down, brushing by Jay in a way that forced him to take a step back to the point he was nearly pushed out the door. Erin crossed her arms as he did it.

"A little more than that would be nice," she pushed at him even more unimpressed. "I've been trying to reach you all afternoon."

He cast her a look and kept going down the hall. Erin shared a look with Jay at that. Hank could be so fucking temperamental. But she shook her head and put her hand on the banister, intending to mount the stairs at that and to go and get the status of things from the horse's mouth. But Hank glanced back at her at that.

"Don't wake your brother," he said overly harshly, which caused Erin to move even more angry eyes at him. But he nodded his head for her to follow and he kept moving.

She flared her nostrils at Jay but clearly cocked her head in a way that told him to stay put. Because she was pretty sure they both realized they wouldn't likely be there for long. Not that she really wanted to be there if Hank was in one of his moods. But she would like to know what the fuck had happened at the hospital. She didn't want to be back to June and Hank telling her fuck all and thinking that was perfectly OK because he was the parent and she was 'the child' and didn't have any say or decision-making power in anything he decided to inflict on her baby brother in his health journey.

She trudged back down the hall to find that Hank had exited through the backdoor and was standing on the porch in the cold with his arms across his chest staring at the fucking shed. He glanced over his shoulder at her as she came out.

"Shut the door," he grunted. "Keep the warm air inside."

She doubted it had anything to do with the heating bill and a hell of a lot more with him not wanting Jay to overhear any of their conversation. But she refrained from comment and pulled the door shut – getting engulfed in the blackness of the yard. He hadn't even bothered to switch on the backlight when he'd come out. Still, as she moved, she must've tripped the motion-sensor and the flood light filled the backyard, illuminating Hank and sending his dark shadow casting over her.

It reminded her of being a teenager again. There'd been countless times where she'd been pulled out to the back porch to be told off. That had been Hank's spot for parenting and discipline. Camille always cornered you in the bedroom after sending you up there to "calm down and get control of your emotions". The two of them were equally as likely to turn entering the kitchen into a parenting moment. Though the kitchen had been a fair center of Voight family life. The room was fucking bigger than their front room. Sometimes it seemed like they all lived in there more too. So there wasn't really any sidestepping it. But you always knew if Hank called you out to the porch some hammer was about to drop.

"What the hell is wrong?" she put to his back, crossing her own arms.

"I don't want Halstead here tonight," he said flatly without even a glance in her direction.

"Yea," she muttered. "I think we all got that."

"So get him out of my house," he rasped, casting her a look.

She shook her head at him, gazing upward in a half-eye roll. It only caused Hank to turn around and actually give her some real eye contact – even if it was a glare accompanied by a lip smack that clearly conveyed how unimpressed he was with her body language. Whatever. She was just as unimpressed with his and his attitude.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?" she tried again.

"I don't want you here tonight either," he put to her firmly.

"Hank—" she gaped.

"I know you want to see your brother. That's fine. Go up. See him. Don't wake him. And go home."

She gaped at him, shaking her head. "Hank …" she didn't even know where to start. The sting of it was taking her off guard and her plans to rip into him faded. But her hurt and confusion must've played across her face too much because some of the sternness on Hank's face softened too.

"I just need some space," he said a tad more gently.

"Was it really that bad?" she asked.

He let out slow sigh and walked over to the railing of the porch, dusting aside some of the snow and then planting his as against it, his arms settling back across his chest and his hands settling in restlessly.

"I just need some time to process what I've signed him up for and I can't do that the way I need to with you and Halstead in my living room or up in the room next to my bedroom. So I need you to give me some space tonight and go home after you've checked on your brother," he put so flatly and matter-of-factly but with a firmness that confirmed there wouldn't be any other outcome than what he'd just stated.

She frowned at him. She knew that face. The frown that was creasing his face too. The one that brought out all his wrinkles and made him look older than he was. That showed all the wounds that he had already dealt with in his life.

And she knew Hank wasn't as emotionless as he liked people to think. He wasn't stoic. She'd seen him shed tears. She knew he had a lot of deep sadness. Anger and hurt that likely wouldn't ever be fully resolved even if he just brushed it off as life being hard and unfair and that was just something everyone had to deal with. Live it the best you can with the hand you've been dealt.

But him putting it that way – on those terms – made her want to leave even less. Because she didn't like the idea of him there in the dark alone "processing". He'd had lots of time to do that and even though it might've been good for his career (and hers) – she wasn't sure it'd been particularly good for him.

"Don't dig a hole, Hank …" she offered quietly.

He gave her a thin-lipped smile at that. "I'm fine," he said in a way that might almost be seen as a promise – but a weak one. "I just want my house to myself tonight."

"Well … you won't exactly have it to yourself," she presented. "Ethan's here."

Hank let out a gruff sound at that sarcasm. "Him and the dog can stay."

She scuffed her boot in the snow. Ethan was supposed to be clearing off the deck but he hadn't been doing a very good job about it. Instead it was just a trail of boot prints and dog paw prints. It was starting to melt, though. Spring was starting to fight to get there. Slowly.

"Did you talk to Dr. Charles?" she asked cautiously, casting her eyes upward to just catch his.

He rocked against the railing again. "Oh, yeah," he muttered. "They had him in there for a little chat before they started the drip. Getting us all mentally prepared for it." His distain seeped off him.

"Doesn't sound like he did a good job …"

Hank just grunted and then shrugged. "The drip's pretty anti-climatic," he allowed. "'Bout the same procedure as the IVMP. The labels around this are just a bit of a mind fuck. And Ethan's reaction to the drugs wasn't that great."

"What happened?" she asked again. More gently that time.

Hank sighed and scrubbed at his face. He really did look tired. He seemed to take his time letting his hands come down and re-cross.

"They do a couple different drips. The first drug made him super agitated."

"Like the steroids?" she asked.

Hank shook his head. "No," he said and gazed at his feet for a moment before looking back up. "It was hard to watch and keep him calm. When they start in on the other drug, it includes a sedative and he passed out. Had to wake him up when it was done. Was really groggy. Thought he was doing OK but on the way home, he said he needed to puke. They'd given him anti-nausea meds before we started. I wasn't ready for it. Couldn't get over fast enough. So he puked all over himself. The Escalade. And lost control of his bladder. And they'd just pumped him full of all those fluids. Four fucking bags. So …"

Erin sighed and found herself gazing at the shed too. "Have you had a chance to clean it up?" she asked mutely.

"Nah," Hank allowed but made a dismissive gesture. "It's not as bad as you think. Smells more like medication and saline than vomit and piss."

She shook her head and found his eyes. "In a department vehicle? Your take-home car? Let me take it and try to get it cleaned up before it sits there too long."

He just shook his head. "I'll deal with it tomorrow."

"At work?" she put to him. "Who are you assigning that job?"

He gave her a thin smile at that but then shrugged and looked down. "Not sure I'll get tomorrow."

"He's still not doing any better?"

"Puked a few more times and then has slept," he allowed. "He says that his piss is burning but he complained about the burning when the drugs were going in too. And he says his throat is sore but with the puking …" he shrugged like they should've expected that. "I blended up some fruit. It's setting in the freezer. Give him it as a popsicle the next time he wakes up."

"Three more times …" Erin offered of the next three Mondays of their lives.

Hank just shrugged, though, and gazed more at the deck. "Three more times …" he said with a weakness to the affirmation that she rarely heard out of him.

But it was the fact that he didn't look back up that told her more about what was actually happening. Hank's kids might be aware of the fact he had emotions – but it still didn't mean he wanted them to see them. Not when he was usually the pillar in the family. So in that moment he was definitely hiding his eyes from her. And it made her eyes water in the way she suspected his were in that moment.

She wasn't usually the one to initiate hugs – or really any sort of physical contact. It was one of her things. Her baggage. She almost exclusively let others take that lead. Particularly men. It didn't matter if it was Hank – her father figure – or Jay – her fiancé. She just had a block about it. About the only person she could think of immediately that she was open to offering hugs and physical affection to on a regular basis was Ethan. But that was different.

And it wasn't to say she didn't accept affection. That she needed just as much as any other human being.

Hank hugged his kids. She'd received hugs from him and Camille – and Justin – growing up in that house. She still got hugs from Hank now. But he was always the one to offer the open arms. Most of the time it was because he knew his kids needed that. But some of the time, she suddenly realized, it wasn't because his kids needed a hug. It was because he did too – just as badly.

And he clearly did in that moment. But he wasn't trying to mask that need in offering one to her. He likely couldn't in that moment. It'd betray what was really going through him and what he was trying to hide with his stance.

So Erin did what she needed to do. Because he deserved it. And even if he wanted to be left alone that night – he didn't deserve to be alone. So she closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around him without a word.

It was awkward at first. He didn't immediately drop his arms – keeping them crossed tight against himself. But then he shifted and allowed them to come around her – returning the embrace. He wasn't crying. Though, she didn't doubt his eyes were glassy – if she'd been allowed to look at him. But she could feel the tension in him and the shifted breathing. The heaviness of it. The worry and the guilty across his chest and his shoulders.

"I might've been on the ass-end of this decision," he said somewhere over her shoulder.

"It's just chemo, Hank," she tried weakly. "It's not doing anything that we weren't told to anticipate yet."

"Because it's chemo," he muttered. "Camille would've—"

She pulled back abruptly and looked him right in the eyes. They were glassy. But so were hers. She didn't like crying in front of him either. But they were family. They were allowed to see it. Maybe they had to see it.

"Camille would've agreed to the trial too, Hank," she pushed at him firmly because she knew exactly where he was going with it. She knew he was always measuring his parenting against Camille's. Always trying to think of what she would've done or would do or how she'd handle it differently. Second-guessing himself and her when he was making decisions that Camille never had to make. "Because she was kind and brave and unselfish and willing to make sacrifices for her kids. To make the hard decisions. Just like you. And just like you and Camille taught me and Justin and are teaching Ethan."

He looked at her but his eyes didn't say he agreed. His eyes said he could hardly think about that. Because he got like that when he started thinking on Camille. The pain and the grief in him rolled off him in a way that was almost a tsunami for those around him. He wasn't done mourning. He might not ever be – because he was always going to blame himself in some way. Think about what he could've done differently. Said previously. Decisions that could've made things go a different direction. And he made that distant sound of his. So he wouldn't have to talk. Because he didn't want to talk.

So Erin shook her head harder at him. "It wasn't you who made this decision on the trial. It was all of us. You talked to all of us. Like you promised me and Justin you would. You heard us out. You heard Ethan out. He got a say. So this isn't on you and changing directions now isn't a decision you just get to make on your own either. This family doesn't just tuck tail and run when something is scaring us."

He let out a little noise at that and gave her a thin smile that was little more than a frown. So she gripped at his shoulder. His bicep. Not so much because she thought he needed it at that point but because she was nearly holding him as her own floatation device in that moment too.

"It's a risk and a sacrifice we're all making together," she pressed. "And that kind, brave kid upstairs is going to be fine. And any of the bullshit right now – the sacrifice is going to be worth it – because he's going to be one of these positive statistics they quoted at us. And he's going to be off at States or Nationals this spring and then out on the ball field this summer, Hank. So we're going to focus on getting to those outcomes and not worry too much about tonight. Day One isn't going to be reflective of the end game. OK?"

He gave her a sadder smile but one that felt a bit more like a smile however sad it might be. He reached out and cupped her cheek – pulling his lips back a bit more while he examined her and creased his thumb over her cheekbone.

"Halstead found himself a good one," he told her evenly.

She let a muted laugh tug at her chest and the corners of her mouth. So she gripped at his forearm a bit. "I had some good examples to follow," she told him.

He allowed his own quiet huff of amused acknowledgement as he dropped his hand away and went back to crossing his arms and examining both their boots in the snow.

She watched him for a moment longer and then reached out to give his hand a small squeeze as she backed toward the door. "I'm going to check on my baby brother," she said. Hank just grunted and gave a little nod. "You coming?"

His head shook a little. "Need a few minutes."

Erin nodded. She'd let him have that but she knew she wasn't going to be leaving the house until she was pretty sure Hank had backed away from the edge of that pit he was staring into.

She opened the door and stepped inside, pulling it shut again to protect his privacy and heating bill. But she stopped inside the kitchen and retrieved the Escalade's keys from where he had them hanging on the key rack above the table.

She trudged down the hall to where Jay was still standing at the door. He raised his eyebrow at her. But she just shook her head.

"Not a good day," she provided flatly and then held out the keys at him. "Can you check how things look shot gun. He thinks he can leave it until morning. I'm thinking—"

Jay just took the keys and shook his head. "I'll handle it," he cut her off. She gave a little nod. "You going to be a while?"

She let out another little sigh. "He doesn't want us … me … to stay. But—"

Jay's eyes set to the back of the house and had this look to them. One that said he likely knew too well exactly what was going on upstairs and exactly where Hank's head was at outback.

"Yeah," he nodded. "So I'll get this cleaned up. That will give you a bit. You want me to pick up anything else while I'm out?"

She gazed up the stairs. "He said Ethan's throat is hurting. He's trying to make him popsicles but maybe …"

Jay nodded. "Yeah, something without sugar," he muttered. "His mouth is going to be all metallic too …"

She gazed at him with that. His eyes were growing into their own glassy stare.

"I don't think Hank's eaten either," she said quietly. "And he's talking about not going into District tomorrow."

Jay gave a little nod. "OK … I'll see what I can find."

"We … I … shouldn't stay too long," she reaffirmed. "He needs some space."

"Yeah … I get it …," Jay acknowledged and gave her a thin smile as he pulled himself out of his brief daze. He gestured at the door and backed out of it. "Back in a bit …"

She nodded and briefly watched as he went down to the street, unlocking the car and getting in. She waited for him to start it up and to make sure that Hank didn't come barging to the front of the house when he heard the doors beep or the engine turn. But when he hadn't, she closed the door and locked it. Then she turned to the steps and gazed up them – putting her hand on the banister and taking a deep breath before starting her climb to check on Ethan.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: The two chapters before this were posted within the past 24 hours. Bedtime and Irish Car Bomb. Don't miss them. Please check. Feedback is appreciated.**


	62. The Great Bambino

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 60 - BACK PORCH.**

Erin switched on the light in the upstairs hallway and tried to peak into Hank's room to catch a glimpse of her little brother. He was laying on his side in near fetal position. He was little more than a bump in the middle of the bed. He was huddled more to Hank's side of the bed than the center. He'd likely been huddled against his dad for warmth and comfort.

Hank, for all his tough guy play, had become diligent about providing that to Ethan. Comfort. Erin knew he didn't hold up as many walls about teaching his son to be a "tough guy" or to "tough it out" as he might've with Justin. Maybe he didn't need to show Eth how to be tough in quite the same way. Life threw enough at her baby brother that he had to be tough just to get by in daily existence. To have survived this long – through some of the things that had knocked him down already in his young life. He didn't need tough love on top of it.

There was never any comment from Hank anymore when E invaded his space on the couch. Erin had caught her little brother leaning against Hank staring at the TV screen or fiddling with his phone or iPad while Hank read. Hank's body language never said he was particularly bothered about having his arm around his boy. Sharing space with him. About the most he'd commented was that Eth had always been a cuddler. Or "Camille's cuddle monster" – which almost sounded too cute to be coming out of Hank's mouth. But apparently was another thing he could subject himself to saying when cast under the words of Camille.

"Dad's outside," Eth near whispered from his position while she hestitate in the door – reluctant to wake him. But apparently she didn't have to be.

Her eyes drifted to where Eth's eyes were set. The window of the master bedroom – overlooking the small backyard. The light from the floodlight was still flooding the space. He hadn't come inside yet.

"Yea …" Erin allowed. But she knew that E had figured out too how the backyard worked. If his dad was out there and it wasn't to man the grill – it was because he was calming down. Somewhere he took himself to - if he couldn't entirely leave the house – before he really lost his temper in a way he didn't want to. That's what the backyard was for. The basement was where he went when he was taking phonecalls he didn't want you to hear.

"He left …" Eth whispered again with some sadness in it. Maybe a suspicion that his dad was upset with him and not just upset. "And Bear left."

Erin let out a little sigh and came into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed and resting her hand on his shoulder. "He just left because he heard me come in and didn't want me to wake you up. He's just getting some air, Eth. He's not upset with you. And I think Bear just followed him to see if he could get some dinner."

"He already ate," Eth said sadly. "Indominus…"

Erin's eyes drifted to the bedside table where, as usual, the toy was standing guard.

"I'm mad at him," her little brother said quietly.

She reached for the toy and examined it in the dim light. "She's right here, Eth," she said. "It looks OK to me."

Eth gave his head a little shake. "She fell on the floor and Bear bit her and shook her. She has teeth marks and slobber on her."

She gave him a sad smile at that and ran her hands over toy a bit more. She didn't doubt that there might be some indents from the dog's teeth but she couldn't see them in that light and with the texture of the toy's skin, she could hardly make out what might've been caused by the dog and what was a lump and bump that was actually supposed to be there. Either way, Bear definitely didn't break the rubbery skin of the toy.

"I think she's OK," she tried again. "But I can try to wash the slobber off for you," she offered, though any drool on the toy was long ago dried now.

"Dad already washed her," he said glumly. "He forgot to bring her today. That's why Bear ate her. And he forgot a blanket too. And it was cold."

"Mmm …" Erin allowed and put the toy back on the nightstand. "Well, I think your dad's head was a lot of places today. He can't remember everything—"

"He says all the time that he remembers everything," Eth mumbled.

She allowed a thin smile. She'd been handed that line a lot too. "Well, I think it was likely your responsibility to remember Indominus Erin and a blanket, if you wanted your own at the hospital." Eth made a little noise at that and she just rubbed his back. "We'll pack ahead of time next time to make sure you remember to take everything you want."

"Dad remembered other stuff," Ethan said meekily.

"Oh, yeah?" Erin asked, giving the nightstand another cursory scan and seeing the near full bottle of water there. "Eth, are you drinking your water?"

"It tastes gross," he said.

"Water doesn't taste like anything," she contended.

"It tastes like metal," he put with all the defiance his tired body could muster.

She gazed at him, running Jay's comment about 'everything's going to taste metallic' through her head. "You need to drink and pee," she pressed at him. "The doctors said it's important to keep these drugs moving through your system. Just like when you're on the steroid drips, Eth."

He gave his head a weak shake. "It burns when I pee," he said. "I don't want to pee."

She sighed at him. "Eth, you need to keep hydrated and keep working to flush the medicine or else we're going to really end up in the hospital."

He just shook his head again, pulling his knees tighter to himself and tugging the blanket more around him.

Hank had removed the quilt that was usually on the bed. The one that Camille's grandmother had made for them when they were married. It was a sure sign that Eth had been still vomiting since getting home. Hank wasn't risking getting puke on what would likely become a family heirloom at some point down the line.

Still, Erin allowed herself to sigh a little at her brother again and then used her toes to push off her boots she still hadn't removed – likely also pissing off Hank as she tracked the dirt and slush of a February winter through the house. But then she swung her legs up onto the bed – settling into Hank's side, even though it always felt a little weird to do that. It felt weirder to lay on Camille's side, though.

As she settled into the mattress, she reached out for Ethan. "Come here," she encouraged. He seemed to need the encouragement. She could feel the sorrow radiating off him too. But on her words, he shifted a few inches in the bed, allowing his knees to straighten a bit as he curled into her body. Erin's arm wrapped around him, tucking the blankets more firmly around him in his readjusted position, as he settled his head somewhere between her shoulder and her breast. She didn't care.

Erin pressed her lips into his hair and then rested her cheek against his crown – staring straight ahead. "So did Daddy remember to bring all those baseball cards to the hospital at least?" she asked quietly.

"Yes …" Ethan allowed.

She rubbed her cheek against his head. "So how does this year's set look?"

"Good," Ethan said. "But I only got one foil in the whole blaster box and it was a seventy-two pack. And there were no Cubs in it at all."

"No Cubs?" Erin said in some mock horror.

"None," E muttered.

"That's awful," she teased.

"Dad bought me a pack of the Heritage collection. I got Schwarber in it," he allowed. He sounded so tired.

"Are you collecting the Heritage set this year?" she asked. That might be pertinent information. Baseball cards were good bribes during collecting season – namely baseball season, which was fast approaching. Eth's chatter about spring training had already started.

"No …" he mumbled. "They're really cool but I can't afford to collect both and I always collect Stadium and now I already have seventy-two cards."

"Mmm …" she allowed. "Did going through the cards take the whole time?"

"No …" he said dejectedly. "I just looked at the pictures. The stats are too small to read."

"Your dad would've read them to you," she offered. She thought that had been the plan. The whole reason the box of cards had been purchased the day before.

"I didn't want him to," Eth grumbled. "He already had to help put them in the binder because I was shaking and I got mad. Some of them got bent and their corners are all wrecked."

Erin stroked at his head. There was such frustration in the way he said it. "So what'd you do instead?" she asked trying to calm the agitation she could feel in him.

"Watched a movie," he mumbled.

"Jurassic World?" she asked.

"Sandlot," Ethan said.

Erin smiled into his hair. "You made Daddy watch that again?" she faked groaned at him. She would've groaned at him if he tried to put it on. It was on the list of movies that Magoo could watch on endless repeat. He loved watching things over and over – just like he loved looking at all his baseball cards over and over until he could recite all the stats and flip through all his dinosaur books over and over until he could point to any toy or fossil in existence and tell you the actual name of the dinosaur.

"He likes it," Ethan said flatly. And given some of the other choices on Ethan's Infinite Playlist, that was likely true. "He'd watch it with me For. Ev. Ver."

She grinned. His wits – his silly little humor and oddball things he latched onto – was still there. So, she in-toned teasingly, "You're killing me, Smalls."

She could feel him smile against her. Some self-satisfied pride in the fact he'd forced his big sister to watch the film enough that she could recite most of the lines. And it sure wasn't the only movie that that sad reality existed for.

"He's the Sultan of Swat," Ethan said in a way that Erin could hear the little grin on his face. She needed to hear it. Feel it. They needed that to get through this stage.

"The Titan of Terror," she obliged.

"The King of Crash," Eth said a bit more firmly.

"The Great Bambino," she said with the appropriate amount of enthusiasms given the circumstances.

"Not that stupid deer, Bambi," Ethan deadpanned.

She ran her fingers through his hair. The hair that they'd been told he might lose at some point during all of this. But she didn't know if that would make him look any sicker than he already seemed.

"You're a goofball," she told him.

"No," he mumbled. "I'm a legend. There's heroes and there's legends. Heroes get remembered but legends never die."

She felt the sting of tears at the back of her eyes again. She knew that multiple-sclerosis didn't necessarily kill you. It just progressively reduced your body to the point that you might as well be dead. It opened you to all kinds of other health complications that were more likely to be labeled as the cause of death than the M.S. And, that this treatment wouldn't kill him either. There'd been no deaths in the trial. This trial was supposed to help him. To get some of his life back. To make it easier. Longer. More functional.

The possibility of death – his death – hadn't been muttered by anyone. It wasn't something that any of them wanted to broach – because the only think that would likely kill him right now was mass infection not caught soon enough or suicide. Neither of those things would happen. Her and Hank were diligent about his exposure to infection and inflammatory agents and they watched his mental health. The doctors did too.

The only thing that had been said about anyone's death was Hank's. Him looking her in the eye and telling her that she was responsible for Ethan if something happened to him. That she had to be well and keep well – no more banana peels – because she was now on Hank's will as Ethan's custodian. Laid out in writing – legally. Not just an assumption. Not something that Hank's wishes would be questioned or stretched too far because she wasn't "blood". If something happened to him – Ethan was more than her little brother, he was her responsibility.

But now here Ethan was using the term "die" innocently enough. And something about hearing him use that word – assigning himself the title of 'legend' so he'd never die – it made her die a little inside and she clung to him tighter. She'd thought – just like everyone else – that she'd lost her baby brother those five (almost six) years ago. She hadn't – and she wouldn't now. There'd be no dying or death talk on her watch.

So instead she gave him the next line of the movie. "Follow your heart, Kid. You'll never go wrong."

And maybe that was the best they could hope for these days.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: A chapter was posted yesterday — CAKE — that didn't get bumped so many of you seem to have missed it. It's the one before this. Please check it out. Feedback is appreciated.**


	63. Part of the Unit

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 57 - NOT A ROBOT - in the story.**

Hank's eyes set on Halstead – sitting down at the head of his dining room table – nearly as soon as he stepped inside his front door. He was about to say something. To tell him that this wasn't exactly what he meant when he told him to take medical for a week. But before he managed to bark anything out – his boy was leaning into the entranceway from the side chair and gave him that look. That "Daddy's home" look that he still saw in his boy's eyes even if he didn't hang over the back of the couch looking out the front window waiting for him anymore like he did as a toddler. Or he didn't come running to the door to drape him in a hug and tell him about his day.

What did come running to the door – more scrambling and scratching up his polished hardwood – was the damn mutt. Bear was always happy to him. Voight wouldn't say the feeling was mutual. But he still bent down to give the dog a rough scruff between the ears – pretending it wasn't so much about petting the thing as it was batting him away from getting mucky paws all over his jeans. Thing was getting big and was lacking in training and manners. Always jumping up on everything. Only going to be a matter of time before he was all-out knocking Ethan over with the force of his enthusiastic affection.

Either way his boy's friendly, "Hi Dad", and "his" dog's arrival in the front hallway was enough for him to stop himself from saying anything to Halstead about his house not being some sort of wayward station or afternoon drop-in center. That he didn't much care that he was engaged to his daughter – that didn't give him permission to just be dropping in and out whenever he pleased. And who the hell had given a key? Erin? Without getting Hank's permission first? Or had Ethan let him in? Eth wasn't supposed to be letting anyone in the house. That was the deal – on days he was home alone – he was home alone. He wanted to get some afternoons alone in the house and build up that trust – than he had to play by the rules. Get home. Get an afternoon snack and his afternoon meds into him. Then go lay down for a rest, if he needed it, or start in on his homework. No homework that night – which never happened at St. Ignatius, especially with how consistently behind Magoo constantly was – and he was to make a salad for them to have with dinner, chop up any veg Hank had put out for the meal. Then and only then could he take 30-minutes screentime. TV or videogames. No fucking Internet while Hank wasn't home and no being upstairs flopped in his bed with the fucking iPad or laptop streaming or Tweeting or playing these stupid mindless apps that turned your life into a black hole. Didn't want that prescribed screentime or ran out of it before Voight got home – then he had a whole lot of toys and books and baseball cards calling his name.

But he wasn't even supposed to be home that afternoon anyway. He was supposed to be going over to the gym for a round of the Youth League training. He hadn't been told there'd been any deviation in that plan. He actually thought he was likely going to be arriving home a bit ahead of kid – a rarity. He might've gotten his house to himself for all of fifteen-twenty minutes. Not that he'd done anything with that beyond getting the chicken tossed in the oven and going downstairs to toss the laundry in the basket, which would likely only make it as far as his study before it got left by the window waiting to be folded after he got Ethan to bed. Only he'd enviably end up doing work crap at the desk when he did sit down there to fold it. Or he'd only make it as far as the front room couch and the TV or his pulp fiction – never sitting foot in the room. Towels and pajamas didn't much need to be folded anyway.

He bit his tongue from ripping his son a new one, though. Seeing as he was home and he was sitting in his homework spot. That was a good start. Kid's memory could be so fucked up some days that somehow he'd gotten confused about where he was supposed to be that afternoon – even though Hank inputted all that shit into the "family" calendar and figured out how to get that bullshit to sync across his, Erin's and Eth's phones. Eth should know enough to check his schedule. But Hank supposed he should know enough to check in on Eth around the time school was letting out. Most days, though, he didn't get much of a chance to watch the clock like that. It'd been Erin's day to manage Magoo after school. Get him home. But glancing at the boot trays he didn't see her fucking moto-monstrousities. And her jacket wasn't tossed over the banister – where she'd always insisted on putting it ever since that first time he'd brought her home – rather than where it was fucking supposed to go. The closet. Supposed she likely thought if it was there, she wouldn't be able to as readily grab it when she was making her bolt for the door. Not that she'd bolted for the door too many times. Typical teenaged tantrum moments but never got out it very far or very long. Even their rules were a whole lot better than street rules. Their rules came with a rough over her head and food on the table at least. And an allowance.

The lack of the usual mess that was left in Erin's wake, though, made him suspect she wasn't there. Sure wasn't sitting in the front room. Sure hadn't heard her voice in the dining room. And she wasn't one to go and sleep after shift. Though, she'd been looking a little rundown lately and sounding some congested. Supposed maybe it was hitting her harder than she'd been letting on at work and she'd passed out for the count. Pulled Magoo out of boxing early to get home and crash. She could've – should've – said something, though, if that was where she was at. He could've taken care of the late afternoon routine himself. She didn't need to be a martyr. But still he couldn't sense her in the house and it made him wonder why his boy was home and Halstead was there even more.

He wandered down the hall to the dining room, Bear's big, clumsy feet prancing at his heels. Ethan gave him another thin smile, straining his neck to look up at him from where he was slumped at the table. Halstead still hadn't said a word and was giving him that not-quiet-nervous look but one that clearly said he was prepared to have his head bit off and was just as prepared to defend himself. But Voight didn't much feel like biting his head off. Guy wasn't in a place to need that. He'd state his point – that he didn't want Halstead moving in-and-out of his house when Erin wasn't with him; they weren't at that level of family yet. But he'd express that perspective when Magoo wasn't sitting right there.

Hank scruffed affectionately at his boy's mess hair but quickly stopped as he realized even that touch was causing strands to come up in his fingers. They'd been told to except that when he'd agreed to let them try his son in on this trial on an experimental drug. Not so experimental. Not a new drug. Just that usually this was what they pumped into chemo patients. Thing was they now thought that this toxicity now was helping M.S. patients – especially worst, debilitating cases like Ethan. The ones with walkers and loss of bladder functions. The ones with massive inflammatory issues and multiple brain lesions aggravating the neuro-ophthalmologic manifestations of the disease. One round. Four days. Up to two years of benefit. That's what they'd sold him on. Patients in the first round of the trial showing up at their follow-ups with no new lesions. Tossing aside their canes and walkers. Getting out of their diapers and off the catheters. Returning to work or school – full-time. Significantly reduced inflammation. Seemingly slowing the progression of the disease – and all the disability it caused – down. It sounded like a miracle drug. And what they needed was a miracle anymore. And when the first round of trials hadn't had any deaths or serious unexpected side effects. When about the worse they were promising was hair loss, nausea and vomiting, mouth sores, fever, and loss of appetite – it seemed like something they should at least try. This time.

But being told your kid was going to loss his hair and watching it actually happen was a different thing. Especially when it was Camille's golden locks that were falling out of his head. When your little boy was coming out of the shower with big eyes holding clumps of blond straw in his hands. When you were changing his pillow case each morning so he didn't see or dwell on how much had fallen out over night even though you knew that he was standing in there gazing at his growing patchy bald spots in the bathroom – but he wouldn't let you just pull out the clippers and buzz it off for him because he thought that might somehow draw more attention to it then the mess it was now.

Hank gave a little sigh and saw Halstead watch as he dropped his hand away – brushing it briefly against his pants, even though that would send the strands … pieces of his son … pieces of his wife, to the floor. But it was better than his boy seeing. The younger man didn't say a thing, though, Voight could see a desire to say something painted across his face.

Hank leaned over the top of the chair his son was sitting in and took in the spread of textbooks and notebooks and pencil crayons sitting on the table with the laptop pushed over to the corner. But his eyes set on the iPad that was sitting closest to his boy and the screen that was pulled up on it.

"Reason you've got that thing in here," Hank put to his son.

Ethan cast his eyes up at him again, a little guiltily. "Jay put in the password. Not me."

Hank moved his eyes to the younger detective. "Erin gave it to me when I was setting up the Netflix for you guys," he provided flatly.

Voight grunted. Slightly unimpressed that Halstead had the password and that now Halstead was handing it out to his son. "You aren't supposed to be using that thing for anything that isn't schoolwork when I'm not here," was all he said, though, to his boy – not his detective.

"It is schoolwork," Ethan protested weakly.

"It's movie trailers," Hank rasped at him firmly.

Ethan reached and pulled a piece of paper from the mess he had all over the table – holding it up for him. "We're supposed to make a graph of movie times, Dad," he said. "And answer these questions."

Hank grunted and read over the homework assignment, allowing a little nod at the determination that his son wasn't stretching the truth too much.

"But we don't have Excel on my computer, Dad," Ethan said as he read. "And you won't give me the password for yours."

"Bought you a laptop for school," Hank muttered, as he set down that sheet and picked up the next.

The week's words for their various spelling, vocabulary and language assignments and the latest assignment and questions for the chapters in the Outsiders that the kids were supposed to be working through at home. They got a bit of time to read in class each day but Eth needed someone to sit with him if he was going to make any use of that time where he actually understood what was happening. Meant he didn't usually make it through more than a page in the time he got to read in class and the time he did get sent to his EA or his tutor usually ended up getting spent on other subjects that didn't involve him having to read (or have read to him) a novel. Meant that Hank was having to try to plow through it with him at home. He thought about the only thing that was getting E to participate was the promise that they'd watch the movie when he was done with the book. But at least it was opening up some interesting discussions between them. Eth wasn't a dumb kid. But it was a lot of work on him as a parent to drag him through it and now they were dropping an persuasive essay on the kids – whatever that was at the Grade 7 level – that Hank was likely going to have to drag him through too. Maybe he'd have to put a sternly worded note – or phone call – into the EA to get them to actually get off their ass and do that with Magoo at school rather than adding it to the pile of shit he needed to work on with his kid at home.

"Don't got no reason to be going on mine," he said as he set down the homework sheets and retrieved E's agenda instead to see what bullshit the teachers had written about his kid that day. Magoo had likely done something wrong to piss off someone. He seemed good at that. Some of these teachers made it sound like his kid was the most annoying kid they'd ever encountered. Which Voight found hard to believe. It usually ended up pissing him off.

"Well, do you have Excel?" Ethan pressed at him.

Voight shrugged. "Don't know."

"Well, my computer doesn't so now I'm having to DRAW a graph, Dad," he near whined. "And we don't even have graph paper."

Voight grunted. "Might be some of that in the drawer of the workbench out back."

"Like I'd think to look there," E mumbled at him.

Hank cast him a warning look but just dropped the agenda back down.

"I tried to set him up on Google Sheets," Jay offered. "But I'm apparently spreadsheet illiterate. We couldn't get it to look what it sounded like the assignment wanted."

Voight grunted.

"SO I'M HAVING TO DRAW, DAD!" Ethan lamented.

Hank glanced at the paper in front of him. Magoo definitely wasn't so good with the handling of pencils anymore. His hands were too fucked up. Pain. Tremors. He just didn't have the fine motor skills. But he just gave a little nod and squeezed his boy's shoulder.

"Looks good, E," he offered. He was trying and he was doing the work. That counted for a lot as far was Voight was concerned. He nodded at the iPad. "Gonna want to take a look at your school portal when you're done collecting your data."

Ethan just made a little sound at him. But there wasn't an argument. So Hank moved to trudge into the kitchen – get dinner on the go. But he eyed Halstead and made a little gesture with his head as he went—making it clear that the man was expected to follow up. And he did without comment.

"Where's Erin?" Hank rasped as soon as they were into the kitchen.

Halstead shrugged. "Her apartment?"

He dropped the grocery bag on the counter and turned to eye Halstead. "Then why are you here?"

"Oh …," he momentarily stumbled. "I was at the gym when Eth was there. He puked all over the place. Wasn't feeling so hot. So I brought him home. I touched base with Erin. I figured she'd bring you into the loop."

Voight grunted at that and examined him some more. "So why are you still here? Not her?"

Halstead shrugged again. "Ah … I don't know. I figured I was here anyway. She's going out tonight with some of the other women. So give her a bit of a break and some time to get ready. Sit with him until you got home."

Voight scrubbed at his face. "I don't really like people waltzing in and out of my house," he put to him bluntly.

Halstead's eyes darkened a bit a that. "I thought with Eth puking you wouldn't want him sitting alone—"

"No," Hank agreed firmly. "But one of you three could've let me know the situation. Doesn't give you permission to just come in and out of here without there being reason for you to be here."

"Ethan puking all over Dawson's gym is my reason to be here," Halstead put back to him with a clear edge and then glared. "No one's given me a key, if that's what you're saying. Eth let me in."

Voight let out an annoyed grunt of acknowledgement. He couldn't really rip into the guy about being there for his kid – even if he really fucking wished someone had let him know of the circumstances he was about to walk home to. He just avoided the potential of saying something stupid, though, by turning to unpack the ingredients that he'd bought.

"I started dinner for you," Halstead muttered behind him and Voight glanced to see the guy moving to where his coat was laying across the back of one of the chairs at the kitchen table. "It's in the oven. Cheese-less lasagna. He said he'd try to eat it."

Voight's eyes moved to the oven to see it lit up. A casserole dish baking away inside. Any other dishes, pots and pans that had been used in getting the bake together had already been cleaned up and put away. There was no evidence of them on his counters or in his sink.

"You didn't need to do that," Hank put to him.

Halstead shrugged at he gathered his coat and pulled it up his shoulders. "I know," he said and gestured back into the dining room. "I let him take his thirty-minutes screen-time when we got home. But he pretty much slept through it, so I don't know if you want to really dock him the time or not. He wouldn't eat anything when we got in. He was looking pretty bad and kinda feverish. So he hasn't taken his pills. And I just left his injection. Figured it's still kinda early anyway."

He let out another little shrug as he finished his soliloquy and started to move toward the backdoor. Must've parked his car down the alley. Explain why he hadn't seen it coming in. He'd gotten Magoo in the habit of using the backdoor anyways. Felt more comfortable him coming in that way when he was alone. Less likely that people would see him coming and going. Had more cameras back there for if anyone did see him and decided to do something stupid. Get it on tape.

Voight let out a quiet noise as the younger man started to make for the door. "I didn't mean for you to be playing babysitter on your week off," he said flatly.

Halstead stopped and turned slightly, giving another shrug. "Wouldn't know what to do just sitting around the apartment," he said. "Don't mind helping out. Giving you guys a bit of a break."

"It's medical leave," Hank nodded at him. "You're supposed to be checkin' in with your doc. The therapist. Resting. Takin' some time to process. Grieve. Getting you're head on straight."

"I'm good," Jay said flatly.

Voight didn't believe that. Seen the guy's body language – eyes – the past few cases. It was getting to him. It was seeping over into the body language he was getting from Erin too. He didn't need the two of them loosing grip.

But they were at home. Not the office. Wasn't his boss right then. And didn't want to dig too far into those dynamics.

So he just crossed his arms and gazed at E. "Don't need to go," he muttered under his breath and gave Halstead a look. The guy looked kind of confused, kind of surprised. "You made the meal. Erin's got other plans. Stay. Eat the food."

"I'd appreciate that," Jay said a bit more flatly.

Hank just nodded and turned back to the cupboard, moving to pull open the fridge and look inside. "I'll chop up a salad to go with it or something. He's probably not goin' to touch any of it anyway."

"Yea …" Halstead allow quietly, but was shrugging off his coat again, draping it back over the chair. But then stood gazing at Voight. "Sarge … I know you don't see it as any of my business … but … why this trial and not medical marijuana?"

Voight turned and looked at him. He contemplated biting off his head again. But again didn't see the point. The guy had been around just as much as Erin through this process with E. He'd been around it more than his own son. It was a question he'd contemplated himself. That he'd thought saying no to too.

He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. "I don't like how the pot is administered," he put flatly. "Don't feel like it's supervised enough when it's just a kid you're giving it to. Don't know that a kid should feel that way – no matter how much it helps. It ain't smoking a joint we're talking about here. This isn't what you get from some kid on the street corner selling dime bags."

"But … this is chemotherapy," Halstead put to him with this weakness to his statement. A sadness to it that Voight had only heard in his voice about one other person – and that other person had been his daughter while she was imploding. "And it's experimental."

Voight shrugged. It wasn't that he didn't care. He cared a lot. He'd agonized over the decision to go ahead with this. But it was that it was what it was. "Drug's been around a long time. This is just another way to use it. And it's the second round of the trial. Medically supervised. Good results the first round."

"But the side effects," Jay pressed. "Brain tumors, infertility."

Voight let out a sigh. "Amount of scarring he's got not that different from tumors, if he ever develops them. And the M.S. and the drugs they have him on have a good chance of infertility or at least impotence anyway. So …?" he shrugged. He'd prefer not to think about those things. That potential future and outcome for his youngest. "Docs say that all is in more long-term use anyway. When it's being used on cancer. E's one round, four days. Won't be near it again for at least two years."

Halstead gave a little nod but stared at the floor with his arms crossed protectively in front of him. "It's a drug they had my mom on at the end," he said with no emotion. "Didn't work for her."

Voight let out a breath at that and gripped his own arms tighter around himself. "That cancer, though?"

"Lymphoma," Halstead said just as flatly, bringing his eyes up just enough to catch his. They were bleary.

Voight ran his tongue around his mouth. He didn't think this kid – man – wanted him to say anything about the loss of his mother. Most of the time he didn't know what o say to his own kids about the loss of theirs. What was he supposed to say to some other kid about their own loss? Especially when they'd just lost another person days before.

"Docs say this drug's showing lots of promise autoimmune diseases. Not just M.S. Having good results in other ones too," he spouted. Because he was having to trust the docs on this one – as hard as that was.

"No … yeah …," Halstead nodded. "I didn't mean—"

Voight just shook his head. "It's OK," he shrugged. "He's doing pretty good. Through the treatment. Worst of it will be behind him in a couple weeks. Six weeks from now – probably won't even remember had him in for the treatment. Hopefully see some progress. Improvement. In a couple months."

Halstead nodded. "Yeah …," he allowed. "I don't … want it to sound like I'm talking about Ethan's medical stuff with my brother behind your back or anything. But … he's tight with the pharmaceutical rep for the company that's sponsoring the trial."

"Mmm …" Voight grunted.

"Just Will knew … I … wasn't a fan of your decision to sign on to this trial … because of what we went through with my mom," he said and cast Voight eyes again. "But … he's let me know that … they really are having good results. Like some people are coming back with zero disease activity in their treatment follow-up. … He's got some other patients on the trial too. He thinks you made the right choice going ahead with it."

Voight grunted and gave a little shrug. "Good to know," he allowed.

And it was. Because more days than not he wondered if any of the decisions he made about Eth's health really were that good. More days than not he didn't really know what to do about any of it. And he hated that he had to trust the opinion and expertise of other people. He couldn't just go with his gut on this one. Couldn't power and strong-arm his way through. It just didn't work that way.

"Yea …" Halstead gave his own little nod.

Though he had that lost look on his face. A silence hung between them. Like maybe more needed to be said. But Voight wasn't sure there was much more to say on it. Not right now. Maybe a couple months from now. Maybe a couple years from now. They'd see who was right and who was wrong. And if he did the right thing for his son. But right now he just had to work with what he had in front of him. That's what Halstead had to do too.

"I guess I'll keep helping him with the homework while he's up to it," Jay muttered and let his arms drop in his move back toward the door.

Voight grunted his acknowledgement. He heard Halstead start to leave but turned to look at him.

"Halstead," he called and the guy glanced at him. There was this look on his face like he nearly expected Voight to announce he'd changed his mind and wanted him to get the hell out. "Been meaning to tell ya, I'm lucky to have ya in my unit." He nodded his chin in the direction of the dining room – and his son. "We are."

Halstead gave him a frown but nodded. "Thanks," he said and just kept moving. But hopefully he knew that Voight meant it. Wasn't just Erin who was benefiting from having him around.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Yes — there will be more reaction to this week's episode with Jay/Erin. Eventually.**


	64. Afterglow

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

Erin stroked at Jay's cheek, as he gazed at her. He was being quiet – even for him.

She felt genuinely content. Weirdly so. And even though previously she really would've hated this quiet time of just staring at each other – filling space – it was slowly growing to be one of her favorite things. It was so easy and so comforting in this strange way that she hadn't really experienced before in her life.

She knew part of it was that they both so sucked at talking. That they avoided it. That they were still so private – even with each other – but that they seemed to know how to lean on each other. And she got a lot of comfort out of just knowing he was there. This feeling that he always would be. He'd seen the good and the bad and he was still laying there staring at her with his own quiet contentment that was also sometimes confusing to her.

Jay use to be so restless. He could never stay in bed after sex. He was always up and in the shower and back in his shorts and out rehydrating before she'd even peeled herself off the sheets. He'd claim he was just between rounds but it always felt more like he couldn't stay in one place for long. But that had faded more and more to the background since they'd been together. They'd lounge for longer. He'd actually cuddle. Fuck … she'd actually cuddle. And she actually liked it. From him.

Though, it was almost funny that that night he was managing to keep still. That he seemed more than happy to cuddle because she'd pretty much expected him to be dressing and bolting as soon as he'd gotten off. But he hadn't. They'd been just laying there with the bit of streetlight from the alley creeping into her old bedroom from the window blinds they hadn't bothered to draw. They'd been in a bit distracted by the time they'd abandoned the couch and managed to make it upstairs to the bedroom – somehow without waking Ethan in the process. Or at least him having enough sense to pretend he was still asleep – and put his headphones on and pillow around his ears – just like any one else in that house had had to do while growing up and now wanting to hear things from siblings or parents that they never wanted to hear.

She was sort of glad they hadn't bothered with the blinds, though, because it was giving her this view of Jay. The downy, sated, sleepy one that was looking at her like she was somewhere at the center of his little universe. Or their own little universe. Or whatever the fuck they were anymore. Home?

But she let a little smile slip out and allowed almost a giggle at her own inside joke.

"You know what I just realized?" she put to him, the smile pulling at her lips a bit more.

He cocked an eyebrow and grinned at her a bit. "That we just had sex in your childhood bedroom, in my boss' house with your little brother sleeping across the hall?"

She rolled her eyes and stroked at his cheek more. "And you're pretty proud of that, aren't you?"

He shrugged but grinned. "Mmm. Pretty sure we just gave Voight another reason to hate me."

"Mmm …" Erin grunted and traced her fingertips along his jaw line and up to follow the cartilage of his ear before threading her fingers through his hair. "We only did it because someone is always horny."

"You?" he put to her coyly.

She snorted her amusement at that comment. "Ah … I don't think so."

"No …?" Jay shook his head, giving her a thin smile.

""I was pretty happy sitting downstairs watching my show," she informed him.

He let his head lull back and made a snoring sound. It exposed his neck in far too tempting of way.

"Mmm …" she allowed again and tugged at his hair a bit to right his head before she got other ideas. And at that point in the night other ideas were likely a bad choice. Hank would likely be home soon. And with the paper-thin walls in the house, she really didn't want to initiate a Round Two – as much as she did. "That's about how I feel with your documentaries and PBS."

"That's quality programming," Jay said.

"If that's quality programming, why'd you look so pissed off while Eth was watching his show?" she teased him.

He gave her an annoyed look. "I don't know how many fucking turn-of-the-century shitty CGI dinosaur specials that kid has to watch – but I've completely met my threshold on Discovery's take on dinosaurs. Walked with enough of them."

Erin grinned. "He did offer to put Terra Nova on instead," she provided.

Jay shook his head hard. "Ah, no. Time travel and motherfucking dinosaurs? Shitty pitch."

She let out a quiet laugh. She'd learned to tolerate Ethan's choice of screen-time. He only got so much. So she only had to endure so much. But whenever Jay had to bear witness to it too, it was always a battle over the remote. Ethan usually still won. But Jay was sure to put up a verbal sparing with the poor kid about it. Though, it was pretty clear he was just giving Ethan a chance to babble at him about dinosaurs. For Jay to pretend like he didn't give a shit. Which he didn't. But he gave enough of a shit to provide an opportunity for Ethan to talk about them. Let the kid practice forming sentences and arguments and being the weird little paleontologist he was.

Sometimes it annoyed the fuck out of her because it usually was a faux heated argument that she didn't want to listen to. But it also sometimes made her smile or even laugh. Ethan would get so offended by Jay spouting off some random fact from one of Ethan's shitty shows – or one of his own dinosaur documentaries that he wouldn't admit he watched on his own time without Ethan there forcing him to – and then defending it like he was some sort of dinosaur expert. God forbid someone know more about dinosaurs than Ethan. But sometimes it made her a little sad too because she thought Camille would get a kick out of it.

And sometimes it just made her wonder what Camille would've thought of Jay at all. Would she have been OK with him? With her dating another cop or would she have warned against it like Hank? Would she have hated that she was dating someone at District? Would she thought Jay was good enough for their family? Or for her? Or to be talking to Ethan about dinosaurs?

"Well, it's good to know that you were just looking all pissed off at the shitty dinosaur animation," she said. "I was starting to think it was me or Ethan that was being glared at."

"Oh, it was Ethan," Jay put flatly and Erin gazed at him a little pissed off herself. "He was all up in your boobage."

"My boobage?" she snorted at him and rolled her eyes. "My baby brother was leaning against me."

"Leaning against your breasts," Jay said pointedly.

"I'm pretty sure Ethan doesn't know - or want to acknowledge - I have breasts," Erin said flatly.

"He's not that brain damaged," Jay put flatly.

She gave him a small swat in the center of the chest for that crack – even though she knew he was just joking. And she knew he'd be one of the first to defend Ethan against anyone who said that about him outside of his family. Maybe Jay could get away with even making the comment now because he was almost family?

"You're just jealous that he was getting cuddles and you weren't," Erin said.

"Damn straight," Jay grinned.

"You should be happy," Erin provided. "Between shitty Discovery channel dinosaur specials and big sister cuddles – out for the count. That got you what you really wanted. Didn't it?"

Jay gave her that little boy grin. "Mmm …" he allowed and she gave him another little swat.

She shook her head at him. "You know, you should slip out now before Hank gets back. Save yourself from him having more reason to hate you And, from that look you know you're going to get."

Thing was – she knew that Hank didn't hate him. Far from it. She's not sure he ever did. Disapproved of their relationship at the start. But he really hadn't said much lately. Nothing disapproving. He was letting her manage her own life. Letting her decide which parts of her personal life she was going to share with him – and the family. But with circumstances what they were – she was probably sharing more of it with him than she wanted. Because to see Jay as much as she'd likely, it meant she'd had to open herself to letting him see her family life – her relationship with Hank and her family – outside of work. But maybe that'd been good because it'd maybe forced Hank to open himself up a bit to the concept of her and Jay being together. Or even the concept of her being an adult and having relationships – and maybe being ready to get married and start a family of her own. She wasn't just his daughter or just his detective anymore. It'd been an adjustment process for everyone. It still was.

A new normal.

"You're going to get one too," Jay told her.

And he was right. She would. Because as 'normal' as their 'new normal' was becoming. As 'normal' as it usually felt – Hank was still 'dad' and she was still his 'daughter' and this was still his 'house'. And he was going to be less than thrilled that she'd had a 'boy' over while she was 'babysitting' and that he'd ended up in her bedroom and that it was going to be glaringly obvious to everyone what they were doing up there. But they were all adults. They could handle it. And maybe Ethan getting used to all of that wasn't exactly a bad thing either.

Sometimes his concept of adult relationships and marriage and sex was sort of skewed. Not that she really wanted him to have a full concept of any of that stuff at twelve. But she sure didn't want him to be all screwed up about it either – especially with edging toward his teens and high school and the start of little crushes and heartbreaks he was experiencing as he tried to navigate human relationships and dynamics that he seemed wholly unprepared for. How come some of the sweetest kids had to be some of the most awkward?

Erin shrugged, though. "The one you'll get will be way worse."

"Hmm …" Jay allowed and squirmed around a bit on the mattress. "This bed's pretty comfy. I might try to miss him in the morning instead."

She let out a laugh. "Good luck," she spat at him. "Either you try to leave before he's up – which he'll hear, and likely come after you with that baseball bat he has next to his bed."

"Is it just a bat?" Jay said. "I thought it was a long gun."

She smiled. "Or, he'll already be up, and you'll take the look alone and it will be worse because you're sneaking out of his house like you're on a walk of shame."

"I don't got no shame," he said. "I'm happy to march right down there and have a coffee with him in the morning."

She shook her head and grinned at him. "You so aren't." She wouldn't even want to witness or endure that. She'd had her share of awkward cups of coffee with Hank in the morning. As much as they were all adults, she wasn't sure she wanted to be sitting with Hank for a coffee – in his kitchen, at his spot at the table, with his fresh brewed coffee – after they'd had sex in his home. Wasn't exactly like they hadn't done it in the house before. But they also hadn't sat around together the morning after either. She wasn't sure they were quite ready for that yet. Or at least – Hank might not be. And he was an expert at saying a hell of a lot by saying nothing at all.

"Yeah …" Jay allowed and rolled onto his back, so she cuddled back up to him, draping herself over him a bit. But he didn't seem to mind, his arm wrapping around her and starting to trace his own circles on her back. "For a guy who's a decent cook, he makes a pretty awful cup of coffee." He just looked at her, though, giving a smile again.

She actually thought Hank made good coffee. Especially compared to Bunny. But she supposed Hank's coffee was what she'd grown up either. Maybe it was an acquired taste. But she'd still happily grab a cup of it before heading into work and trying to ingest the swill that Alvin put through the coffee maker. She was pretty sure that filter only got changed once a week with the used grounds being piled on over and over again until it was just toxic tar coming out of that thing. And would be coming out of you on the over end of about the same nasty consistency as what that filter looked like by the time someone (usually her) got off their ass and changed the fucking thing.

"What were you really thinking?" Jay asked, gazing at her again with those eyes of his.

She shrugged. "That you're way more of a ginger than I previously realized."

He gave her an unimpressed look. "Half-ginger," he protested. "And barely any ginger to show for it."

She let out a little giggle and scrubbed at the scruff on his face again. "This," she told him, "in this light. Definitely ginger."

He groaned and batted her hand away. But she just smiled and moved it back to stroke at his cheek more.

"I need to see some actual childhood photos," she told him.

"Why?" he hissed at her.

"Research," she said. "See exactly how ginger we are talking about here."

"Auburn," he protested and batted her hand away again.

"Ohhh…" she put back to him. "Auburn? Fancy way of saying orange."

Jay rolled his eyes.

"You don't like being a ging—"

"Au—" he interrupted her.

"—burn," she finished for him, nodding sarcastically. "What's wrong with it?"

He just grunted and shrugged. "Kids with red hair and freckles take a lot of crap."

"Aww … don't say that," she said. "You've seen Henry. He's a cutie."

"He's chubby—"

"Jay," she groaned at him.

"He is," Jay argued. "It works on him right now with the whole baby thing. But if he doesn't get it under control by the time he's in school—"

"JAY! He's like seven months old. It's baby fat. He's supposed to look like that."

"I'm just saying. He's chubby. He's pale."

"Oh my god," Erin muttered and rolled away from him a bit, looking at the ceiling. "You so aren't a baby person."

"And," Jay added, poking her in her bare shoulder. "He has orange hair and freckles."

"Because his mom has orange hair and freckles," Erin put to him. "You realize that there's like a fifty percent chance your children will have orange hair and freckles."

"Auburn," Jay corrected firmly again. "And, assuming I procreate—"

"Procreate?" she gaped at him.

"Have a kid," he half-ways corrected his word choice, "with someone with a hair color much more attractive than orange. Like you—"

"Were you planning on 'procreating' with someone other than your soon-to-be wife?" she asked, giving him a disgusted face.

"I just mean your hair will be dominant. Red is recessive," he provided like he was the narrator of one of the documentaries he binged on.

"Auburn," she said dryly and he gave her one of his annoyed looks. "You and Will both are ginger," she pointed out.

"No," Jay shook his head. "Will is pretty much a scarecrow." Erin let out a real laugh at that but Jay slapped his hand over her mouth and put a finger to his lips. "You wake up Eth and you know he'll be in her in like two seconds."

"When I wake up Ethan?" she put back to him.

"You're lucky you didn't already wake him up," Jay pressed, cocking his eyebrow again at her.

He clearly thought he'd gone an amazing job that night. He seemed quite taken with his abilities. She wasn't sure she'd been as taken with them as him. It'd been good. But it wasn't like it was their best time ever. How could it be? They were in Hank's house, in her childhood bedroom, with Ethan across the hall? It didn't exactly scream wildly hot sex or romance.

She rolled her eyes. "Me? I wasn't that loud."

"You don't have to be the walls in this place might as well be as non-existent as the locks on the doors."

She shrugged. "Ethan can sleep through pretty much anything. And you're the one who wanted to fuck anyways. Couldn't wait until we got relieved of babysitter duty."

"I just wanted to stop watching some crap crime show after dealing with real crap crime all day," he put back to her.

"The Bridge is a good show," she pressed. "You were so concerned with your penis that you didn't give it a chance."

"I had other things on my mind," he said flatly.

"Clearly," Erin muttered but then looked at him again. Examining the red-tinged scruff on his chiseled features and taking in his darker hair. She wondered how 'auburn' it'd been when he was a kid and when it'd darkened up. You could still see his freckles across his face – which let him retain that little boy look even though he was getting into his mid-thirties at that point. Pretty much an old man. But he kept that stubble on his face just enough to hide them. Sometimes she wished he didn't. She actually thought Jay was likely a pretty cute little boy and that he'd likely produce a cute little boy too if he ever 'procreated'.

"Your dad doesn't have red hair," she pressed back on that topic. "So the recessive gene won."

"My theory is that the mother's gene wins out," he argued. "So I think we're covered."

"Your theory?" she grinned at him. "Have you gotten this theory scientifically proven?"

"No," he allowed. "But, my family. And now Justin and Olive. He's dark haired. She's ginger. Henry's ginger. So you know, maybe we can be the definitive test."

"Ah," Erin nodded and allowed herself to settle back onto him. "Good plan, Jay. Should pitch it to someone at one of the universities. Maybe we can get funding for this experiment. Get that down-payment in order."

"Or you could just give your genes a pep talk before we do the whole procreating thing," he suggested. She could feel him grinning into the top of her head at his lame joke.

"Right," she said. "I'll get on that."

They lay there in silence for several long moments. But his hand was stroking at her hair then like he was examining it now too.

"Your hair color would be better to pass on," he mumbled.

She smiled against his chest at that. "You realize that it has highlights in it right now," she informed him flatly.

"I know," he said. "I like it like this. But it was nice before too."

"Mmm …" she allowed. "I don't know how many of my genes that we want our kids to get."

It was true. It was something she worried about. Forget what her abilities to be a mother would or wouldn't be. She wasn't even so sure on that front. But on the genetics front? That just seemed like a shitty crap shot. Maybe too shitty. With what she'd come from. Did they really want to pass any of that one? Addicts? Criminal? Street trash? It seemed like they'd be setting the kid up for failure in terms of the genetic pool before they were even born. Why do that to someone?

"Well, Voight doesn't need another red-headed grandkid," Jay put back to her just as flatly.

She allowed a small smile again at that. "Ah, I think he'd love another red-headed grandkid," Erin said with some mock-seriousness that wasn't so far from the truth.

Hank was absolutely smitten with Henry. She'd never really seen him like that before. She knew that there were a lot of different factors at play. They'd been through a lot since they'd lost Camille. And even more with Justin and with Henry's arrival in the family. But she'd been around to see Hank with Ethan. And even though she'd seen how in love with his son he was then – seeing him strive to be a part of Henry's life and to be a good Popa was a different experience.

Hank, who could be so private about his family, wasn't shy about letting people know he was a grandfather now. He had a ridiculous number of photos of Henry on his personal phone. She was pretty sure that there were a couple on his work phone too – which would normally go against his better judgment. And for a man who didn't really believe in frivolous conversation – he'd sit and babble at Henry over FaceTime every weekend like the baby had any clue what he was saying. But she knew it was more that he just wanted his grandson to know his voice. To know him. To be a part of his life.

Hank's never-ending effort to make up for whatever failings he'd decided he'd made with his own kids. To be a better grandfather than he was father? She thought that was likely going to be a big effort. Even though he was far from perfect—he was a good dad. Despite what preteen, teenaged and twenty-something versions of her and Justin might've spat in his face at various times. And what Ethan was inevitably likely to spit at him again. He did a good job. Or at least the best he knew how. And that likely meant he'd set the bar pretty high to be a better grandfather than he was father. But it likely also meant that any kid was going to be just as lucky to have him as a grandparent as she'd been to have him as a parent.

Because she hoped that he'd still want to be that to her – to her child(ren). That that desire wouldn't change. And maybe she wanted to give him that too. So he could have a piece of her from Day One. Something she could share with him. Or some weird way to thank him. That she'd gone far enough in her life – gotten far enough way from what she was born into – that she was going to be able to have a family of her own? And a 'normal' one at that?

It'd be normal, right? Her and Jay could manage that? Having Hank was a grandfather would seem natural? Having Ethan as an uncle? And Justin and Olive? And Henry? And Will? It was such an odd concept to wrap her head around. Something she was still getting used to. It seemed like this strange alternate reality that she'd never really considered could be a part of her life before. Sometimes she still wondered if she'd wandered too far away from what she'd planned for her life. Not that her life had really been going according to plan anyways.

"I'm pretty sure he's more taken with Henry than he was with either of his own kids," she provided quietly.

"That's just a grandparent thing," Jay said flatly and she glanced up at him. "It's easier to be taken with them when you know you can hand them right back when you get sick of them. You three – non-returnable. Henry – back to mom and dad as soon as he's no longer cute."

"He's cute," Erin stressed again.

Jay shrugged. "Right now he is," he allowed. "People seem to become less cute with age. Look at Eth."

She propped herself up on her elbow again and skewed her face at him. "Ethan's pretty cute."

"Are we talking appearance or attitude?" Jay put back to her.

She shrugged. "Both," she said.

"Mmm…" Jay scrunched his face and shook his head. "I think that's like big sister, female, motherly hormones kicking in or something. Because he's definitely not all cute all the time."

"I didn't say all the time," she admitted and settled onto him again. "But he's a good kid."

"Yea…" Jay allowed to that and wrapped his arm around her, giving her shoulder a bit of a squeeze.

"Sometimes …" she started after a long pause and then let out another little sigh and another pause.

"What?" Jay asked, gripping her shoulder a bit more like she was going to drop some sort of bomb on him. Kick him out of bed and the house and her life?

"I don't know," she sighed. "I guess … sometimes I think about … how I feel about Eth. And if I feel that way about him, how am I going to feel about a kid that's my own?"

"You'll love them too," Jay provided matter-of-factly.

"Yeah …" she agreed quietly.

"You've been around since he was born," Jay said like he was trying to find words for her – trying to prove to her that he understood in his own way. "You guys have been through a lot. He's you're little brother. You're supposed to be close to him. Love him."

"Yeah …" she agreed quietly again. But it all just felt so heavy.

Sometimes her relationship with Eth felt confusing. There was so many different layers to it. It was complicated and complex. And it could be frustrating and annoying and just infuriating. But there was so much to love about it too. And she supposed the rest of those things were just what family was supposed to look like. Hank had promised her a safe home. He hadn't promised any of it would be easy. But, life wasn't easy. Relationships – romantic, family, platonic, otherwise – they weren't either. But she supposed shared experienced counted for a lot. Even the bad ones. They bonded you together. Weaved your stories and lifelines until they intertwined in a way that made you inseparable. But that was likely why it was so hard to completely extract Bunny from her life too. Her past.

Sometimes she worried that if she got married – if she had kids – before Ethan was farther into his teens, he'd feel abandoned. Lost. Forgotten. She didn't want that for him. But splitting her energy and time and availability (mentally, emotionally, physically) between the job and the city and the victims and then between a husband and then between Hank and Ethan and then between kids of her own? She wasn't sure she could split herself that many ways. She thought that might all just end up breaking her.

But since Ethan being home and interacting with him more and more. Being not just the big sister – but one of his caretakers, one of his guardians, being a part-time parent as much as Hank allowed her … just being an adult … a female adult – in his life. Add in her thirtieth birthday coming up and now this relationship with Jay that felt so different than any relationship she'd had before and an engagement on top of that. It had her thinking about if she wanted a family of her own more and more. What she wanted it to look like. How she could manage it. If she even could. The when, where and how.

Hank would tell her that she was being too hard on herself with some of the things she was thinking. Or that she was planning too much. That sometimes you can't plan. You can't multitask. You just have to go with your gut and then strong-arm your way through it. Power through. Keep on truckin'. Trust your instincts.

But sometimes she wasn't so sure about her instincts. They hadn't always taken her the best ways.

"Did kids really give you a hard time about your hair?" she asked.

He just grunted. "People gave me a hard time about a lot of things."

"You should've kicked the shit out of more people," she mumbled.

"Yeah, I think my whole deal at private school was pretty similar to yours," he muttered. "Beating the living shit out of people wasn't really a viable option."

She frowned against his chest at that and gripped at his shoulder. "I hope Henry doesn't get teased," she said quietly.

Jay shrugged. "I have a feeling that Justin will teach him not to take shit," he muttered.

"Mmm …," Erin allowed and shook her head. "He took a lot of shit in school too. He tried act like he didn't care. Like he was OK doing his own thing. Being his own person. Didn't care what other people thought. Did things his own way. But …" she shrugged. "He got picked on a lot too."

Jay held her a bit for a moment. "I can see that …" he allowed. "A lot of anger in him."

"I could say that about a lot of guys I know," she mumbled and cast him a look. "He got taken advantage of a lot. It wore him down. And I know Hank can be super aggressive but it's not like that's what was tolerated at home. He'd get so pissed if we got in fights. We weren't supposed to take shit but also weren't supposed to use fists. It could be confusing and frustrating. Maybe more for Justin. I don't know."

"Not for you?" Jay asked.

"I guess … it was frustrating for me. But I still … didn't trust that Hank and Camille wouldn't just give up on me and send me packing. So I pretty much felt like I had to follow the rules." She smiled against Jay's chest a bit. "I found other ways to act out and give them hell."

Jay made a small noise. "Yea … I'm sure," he allowed. "And I'm sure I'm not the first one to be chased with a bat."

She smiled. "Hank was scary enough that most weren't brave enough to come inside."

"Also sure that's just the way he wanted it," Jay muttered.

She shrugged. "He was just trying to be a good dad. He didn't know much about raising a girl."

"You would've only be so girlie," Jay provided.

She snorted at him. "But I was still a girl. He was protective."

Jay shrugged a bit. "He is with Ethan too."

"Yeah …," she acknowledged. "You'd be over-protective with a girl too …"

"Likely …" Jay agreed.

"You ever thought about if you want a girl or a boy?" she whispered.

His hand gripped more at her shoulder. "I don't know …," he said after a long pregnant pause. "I don't think we get a lot of say in that."

She allowed a small amused sound against him. "Yeah … I guess."

"I don't know what I'd know what to do with a girl," he said after another long moment. "And a boy I'd likely screw up."

She found his eyes. "I don't think you'd screw up a boy," she told him firmly. "You're great with Eth."

"He's not my kid," Jay said flatly.

She shrugged. "But you know how to talk to him," she said and settled back against him. "And you'd be good with a girl. Though, by the time she was like Eth's age, you'd be driving her crazy."

He made his own quiet sound of amusement. "Yeah … likely …"

They lay in silence again just holding each other. But she could feel him thinking even though they weren't looking at each other. She was staring at that rocking chair Camille had gotten for her all those years ago. It'd seemed like a strange gift at the time – though, it'd been nice to sit in and read or think or stew. Kind of like the swing on the back stoop. But staring at it now it felt more like maybe Camille had given it to her then because she somehow knew she wouldn't be there to give it to her when she needed it – for a nursery.

"You thinking about that thirty-two thing?" Jay asked quietly.

She shrugged. "Not really," she muttered. "I'm not ready to have a baby right now, Jay," she said and shifted her head so she could look at him. "But … I've just been thinking lately. A lot."

"Yeah …" he acknowledged. "Me too. All of a sudden."

 **AUTHOR NOTE: I'm not sure how much I'll be updating the next while. Some stuff is going on. I have a few incomplete chapters that I'll try to finish up and post but there's likely going to be longer gaps between updates than you're used for a bit.**


	65. Banana Pancakes

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 59 - AFTERGLOW - in the story. The chapter will be reordered in the next couple days.**

Erin slinked into the kitchen – still just in her panties and a tank, a measured risk considering who's house they were in – and crept up to Jay. She must've been being more sneaky than she thought – because his back remained turned with little sign that he'd heard her moving upstairs, coming down the stairs or creeping up behind him. She wrapped her hands around his back – knitting them against his chest – as he briefly stiffened at her unannounced arrival but then relaxed as he realized it was her and not Voight about to do some tactical maneuver on him that would have him floored faster and easier than either of them wanted to admit.

"Morning," she mumbled against him and placed a small kiss against the jutted shoulder bone sticking out of his back.

He'd managed to be quiet that morning too. Waking and creeping out of the bedroom unnoticed. With him and his clothes gone when she'd stirred awake, she'd assumed he really had decided to sneak out in the wee hours of the morning in an effort to avoid Hank. But then she'd heard movement downstairs.

At first she'd thought it was Hank. But then she'd realized that the footsteps were trying to be quiet – which Hank didn't do at all in the mornings. If he was up, he usually felt that everyone else should be too. No sleeping the days away. Though, generally, on the days he wasn't working – especially if he knew someone else was in the house to look out for Ethan – he'd go for that little weekend morning wander of his. Get his coffee. Get his pastrami. Used to be that he'd show back up with something from Bruno's too. Sourdough still warm. Not so much anymore with Ethan's diet, though. Didn't like excluding him. So her sleep numbed brain had slowly registered that it wasn't Hank who was moving around downstairs – it was Jay still in the house.

She'd decided she should likely rise and save him before Hank did come back and realize that Jay had stayed the night – in her room. Though, she suspected he'd already caught sight of Jay's vehicle and noted that her bedroom door hadn't been left open a crack for Ethan – and the dog – when he'd walked past it the night before. He hadn't been particularly quiet when he'd arrived home either. She'd heard him come in and come up the stairs. Heard him across the hall checking in on Eth and she'd heard the pause when he returned to the hallway, which she suspected was more him eyeing her closed door than him gazing in at his son for a few more moments. She almost suspected that Hank had gone out to do his less frequent Saturday morning that morning to give her and Jay a chance to get him out of the house without any of them having to have an awkward moment of seeing each other the morning after.

"Hey," Jay allowed but didn't turn.

He continued what he was doing. Cooking by the looks of it? He never cooked for her. Not that that was a bad thing. When it came to food that wasn't take-out, Jay was a bit of a health nut. She didn't feel quite the same way about food as he did. Nor did she see it as as palpable. Though, she was starting to tolerate certain levels of healthy grossness because of what they had to feed Eth and the amount she was over for dinner or left in charge of trying to get food into her baby brother.

"You making me breakfast?" she teased him.

He gave her a glance over his shoulder and shook his head. "Ethan," he mumbled. She squinted at him. "Hank had said something the other day about no being able to get food into him in the morning and then his puking episodes at school."

Erin gazed at him some more. Jay had been spending a lot of time over at the house that week. His supposed medical week. She knew that part of it was avoidance – mainly from having to talk to her about anything that was going through his head – and another part of it was distraction. Jay had his own banana peels. He didn't like too much idle time. She supposed that's what made him a good, dedicated cop. It was something for him to bury himself in. But that had been pulled away from him that week. Again. He'd already had to take some time back in the spring. Then was sidelined for a few days after his kill shot on her behalf. Now this? She knew how much he hated it.

He'd been filling his days with his non-optional shrink visits and with the gym. He'd split his evenings between her and Will and Mouse and just wanting to be alone – which meant he was either in a bar or on his couch drinking alone. Not exactly a behavior that either of them should be doing regularly. But she understood he needed some space and she didn't want to smother him.

But when he wasn't busy doing as much as possible when he wasn't supposed to be doing much – he'd been over at Hank's, further distracting himself. He'd basically taken on Ethan's afternoon routine that week. He'd been picking him up at school. Taking him to any of his appointments – physio, therapy, shrink, cognitive, tutor, boxing gym, etc. Getting him home. Sitting through homework and TV time and Ethan being Ethan. Getting dinner started.

Hank had been rather hot and cold about it. It definitely felt like this transition moment for their family dynamic. One that she didn't think Hank had fully considered as even the remotest possibility when he'd put Jay in the box for a week. But she also thought he recognized it was something they needed – her and him needed that break and that time to just focus on the job and not be distracted about what time of day it was or playing taxi service and babysitter and tutor and parent and nurse to Ethan. It'd been nice to have a week where they could mostly just focus on the job – at least from 7-6-ish. It'd almost felt like old times. Sort of.

So Hank hadn't said too much about Jay being around more than usual. Being in the house. The state of his relationship with Eth. There hadn't been harsh comments or unasked for opinions. She'd been some Voight-isms. But that was to be expected. But this passing comment by Jay – it also showed that during the time in-and-out of the house, the days where she hadn't bothered to go over after work and Jay had been relieved by Hank by himself – that Hank had actually spoken to him. Not just grunted. Or ignored him entirely. That was progress. She might actually almost call it big progress. For both of them. For all of them.

"You called him Hank …" she said. It was Jay's turn to give her a confused squint. "You never call him Hank," she provided. "I could probably count the number of times on one hand."

Jay just let out a sigh at her and turned back to his cooking efforts without comment. He likely didn't want to acknowledge he'd used the man's proper, given name. Especially considering how he usually rasped off "Voight" with such distaste. The other times he'd said "Hank" there'd always been this ire about it. There hadn't been this time. It was just said as his name.

"What you making?" she asked instead.

"Crepes," he mumbled and just kept mashing away at the ingredients he had in a bowl.

She moved and leaned against the counter at that – looking at his efforts. "Babe, it sounds great, but he's not really supposed to be doing grains right now. And he's already been eating so much of the rice pasta with the way his stomach is …"

Jay eyed her and then gestured at the iPad on the counter. "No grains," he said flatly. "It's just bananas and eggs. I'll cut up some fruit and warm it up with some coconut oil and cinnamon for him. Wrap it up. Pass it off as crepes. Pancakes."

She stared at him. She didn't know what to say and while she was searching for words – some sort of thanks or expression of appreciation that she didn't think he really wanted to hear - he again sighed at her.

"My Mom couldn't keep anything down on this drug either," he provided. "And I know it's different. But I know you guys worry about his weight and what he eats …"

She gripped at his elbow at that and gave him a thin smile. A thanks. Because he didn't want to vocally hear one. He didn't even want her to acknowledge what he was doing. What he'd done all that week. For them. For her. For Ethan. For Hank too. He didn't want to hear that he was doing more for them – acknowledging what was happening, trying to understand and help – than Justin had attempted during the past nine months. That he was being more of a brother – more family – than his flesh and blood could manage. That Justin hadn't even acknowledged that Ethan was on this clinical trial. That he'd offered no input or concern when Hank had told him that his baby brother was going to undergo four doses of what was conventionally seen as a chemotherapy drug. That for four weeks of Ethan's life he was going to feel shittier than usual. That he was going to lose his hair and puke his guts out and want nothing more than to curl into a ball while his body was also crawling with anxiety and hyperactivity. That it'd take weeks more for the drugs to fully work their way through his system before they hopefully saw some improvement and that Ethan didn't become some statistical negative side effect. But that their stubborn ass little man would still claw his way through and fight to be 'normal'. To go to school and go to Robotics club and show up at the gym and finish his homework and get his TV-time and allowance by doing the chores and fulfilling the responsibilities that even Hank the hard-ass had become increasingly lax about. Because Eth was a stubborn little fuck. A brave little boy who maybe in some ways was more grown-up than his older brother. But Justin had declined to be any part of the discussion. To participate in the reality that they were living. But Jay was.

She just gazed at the iPad, though, because Jay didn't want to hear any of that. She wasn't even sure he wanted to see it in her eyes. She'd already expressed her own thoughts on this trial to him. She'd heard out Jay's personally apprehensions and finally gotten a small glimpse of what he'd gone through with his own mother and that loss. What he'd missed and stayed away from and put off – and the way he loathed himself about that. Even though he'd been there – come home sooner (and stayed) – more than Will. And she suspected that made him angrier about how Justin was interacting – or refusing – to interact with any of this. Because Justin was still angry about Christmas. He wasn't ready to apologize or move on or work it out. Or maybe he just wasn't capable of acknowledging the permanent pain that their baby brother lived in. And the kind of pain – reminder – that it meant all of them lived through about what happened that night. That maybe those wounds never really would heal. That they'd never fully be able to move on – no matter how far any of them got away from it. But maybe you aren't really supposed to move on from something like that. That loss.

"What is this?" she asked questioningly, picking up the tablet and flicking through the screen more carefully.

"A blog I found," Jay offered. "Some doctor who has M.S. and basically developed a diet to help cope with it. She went from being in a wheelchair to hiking. A lot of it is stuff Voight's doing anyways but she's got a lot of recipes in there and it's kind of interesting reading."

"I know you don't want to tell me what a good guy you are," she put to him.

He just made a little noise and moved to put a cup of his batted into the hot skillet on the stove.

"You're a good guy, Jay," she said more firmly – because she thought he needed to hear it that week.

He snorted and gazed at her. His eyes sadder. "Terry's wife … just before the run … she was asking me about if I had kids. Told her I hadn't really found time for that. And then one of the last things Terry said to me was to apologize for her bugging me about it. She said I should find the time."

She gave him a sad smile. "You will, Jay," she assured him. "We will. When we're ready."

He made another noise and shook his head. "When's that going to be?"

She knew it wasn't meant as some sort of accusation about her thirty-two sweet spot that she'd declared as a timeframe when she might be willing to start trying. When she might feel like she'd been with him long enough, when she'd been in her career long enough, had established herself and deal with her own shit long enough – that she might be in a place where she felt like she wouldn't completely screw up a kid. Like she wanted kids. Not that she didn't want kids. It was just the concept – given her past – was scary. Really scary.

But it wasn't about that.

It was about him. He had his own hang-ups about having kids too. And as much as she knew he wanted a family as well – that it scared him. That he had been vocal about the fact that he'd likely screw up his kids. That he wasn't sure he knew how to be a dad – not after growing up with his father or what their relationship (or lack thereof) looked like now. And he was even less sure that he'd know how to raise a daughter. Though, Erin suspected he'd do better with a girl than a little boy – not that he'd be a bad father to a son either. But she knew that a little girl would likely win his heart rather quickly – if not instantly – and that she'd end up a Daddy's girl and probably a doted on little princess. Though, she didn't suspect she'd be that spoiled. Daddy would still be pretty tough and a bit of a hard-ass – even if he was a softie. And his daughter … their daughter … would definitely know Daddy was a softie. It was part of the getting dad wrapped around your baby finger trick. She'd learned as much with Hank too. Dads could only resist that smile – and those eyes – for so long before caving even if they did some of the gruff barking before they did.

But she hadn't said any of that to Jay. They hadn't waded far enough into baby talk to put those thoughts out there. They were still so wrapped up in trying to figure out where they stood on their own that they were just dipping their toes in the water of really defining what they wanted their family to look like. They just both seemed to know they wanted a family. And they both seemed to know just as much that their upbringing made the concept of having it – as appealing as it was – fundamentally terrifying. So that was about as far as either of them managed to get in the conversations – yeah, they wanted kids but they weren't really sure how good at it they'd be and they definitely weren't really sure they were ready right that instant. But they had time. Technically.

"You're good with Eth," she offered as some sort of consolation. "You're better then his own brother."

He snorted and cast her a look. "That bar's not very high," he said and shifted the pan slightly. "Besides, you told me not to try to be his big brother."

She shrugged. "Big brother-in-law?" she suggested. "That's different."

He gave her a thin smile and shrugged. "He's just a little kid," he provided. "I just don't like … seeing him struggle."

"I know …" she acknowledged.

He'd expressed that a lot lately. Been hung up on it. Projecting. Sometimes she felt like being around Eth – combined with some of the cases they were getting at work – was really triggering Jay's PTSD. Not that he'd told her he had PTSD. He wouldn't admit weakness like that. But she also didn't need him to admit it. She could see it just fine. She understood. But she wasn't sure him projecting that onto Ethan – or Eth's state of being right now maybe pushing him over the edge – was the best thing for anyone. But maybe they could all navigate the PTSD thing together. It wasn't like she didn't have her own. And E dealt with it in his own scarred little boy way too.

But she just moved in and gave him another half hug. Wrapping her arm around his waist and staring into the skillet as the pancake bubbled and browned. It looked good. She hoped he was planning to make enough for everyone.

"Eth said you were taking him out to get his homework bribe tomorrow," she mumbled against his bicep.

Jay shrugged. "Yea, I know Voight thinks he's got the afternoon routine all figured out. But I'm telling you – letting the kid take the TV time and wind-down time before setting him in front of the homework and giving him some extra motivation about getting it done – seemed to work pretty good."

She smiled a little against his tshirt sleeve. He likely didn't realize how much of a dad he actually already sounded like. And how self-assured he sounded in his methods. Probably not that unlike Hank – who thought he had it all figured out and always did it his way too.

"So what exactly is this bribe?" she pressed.

"Told him twelve bucks had his name on it, if he didn't give me shit about doing his homework this week. But it gets spent on something – not he gets to hoard it away," he said firmly as he flipped the pancake.

"So basically you're giving him double allowance for doing something he's supposed to be doing anyways?" she teased him.

Jay shook his head. "No," he said just as firmly. "I'm paying for some actual material object in the now so he doesn't have to save for it or do this whole splitting money up and budgeting thing."

"You know Hank's trying to teach him about saving and spending priorities," she said.

She could feel Jay roll his eyes without even looking at him. "Fuck that," he muttered. "Give the kid something every once and a while, if he earns it. Figure I can make it a once a month thing."

She grinned a little more at that concept. "So what's he planning to spend this twelve bucks on?" she asked.

"Sounds like Lego or baseball cards," Jay said. "New Microfighters are out."

It was Erin's turn to roll her eyes. "Star Wars?" she asked sarcastically. She actually thought Jay's implemented half-hour tv time before homework had been a convenient excuse for him to not feel like a douche catching up on the latest season for Star Wars Rebels. She'd sat through a couple episodes with the two of them. She couldn't see what they saw in it. But she also couldn't see what they'd seen in the actual movie to get as little boy excited as the two of them got.

"Yea," Jay acknowledged. "They've got some cool ones out."

"You going to buy one for yourself too?" she teased and caught his eyes. "You could put it on your desk. It needs some decoration."

He gave her an annoyed look. "Don't like clutter."

"I think you're going to be jealous watching Eth put together one if you don't have one to do too."

"He'll need help," Jay mumbled. "With the …" she could tell he didn't want to verbally acknowledge Eth's tremor. It'd been kind of under control for a while but the stress the new drug was having on his system seemed to be bringing it to the forefront again. They'd been assured it'd pass after he got through the four treatments. So a couple more weeks. Hopefully.

"Yea …" she acknowledged and pressed her face against the fabric again. "Think Hank and Eth plan on sitting in front of the TV watching spring training games all afternoon tomorrow. So you should likely take him out early."

"Yea, I will," he said. "If he gets up early. Shouldn't he be up and getting ready for his Robotics stuff?"

She shrugged. "If Hank didn't have him up, maybe he's letting him sleep in or decided he's not well enough to go today."

"Where the hell is Voight? Didn't he come home last night?" he asked, casting her a super annoyed look.

"He came home," she told him. "He's likely out on his morning prowl. You should probably leave before he clues into you still being here."

"And you should probably put on some pants," she heard rasped behind her and spun around.

Hank gave her a disapproving look at her attire as he made his way into the kitchen – being sure to deposit his brown bag of clearly aromatic bread and his tray of café bought coffee (three – clearly giving away the fact that he knew Jay was there and likely wasn't going to be gone when he got home and maybe some acceptance of that reality) on the counter as far away from her scantily clad ass as possible.

Why was it that most mornings he managed to wake up the whole house with his movements but when they'd likely to know he was actually approaching he could sneak right up behind you without even knowing he was there? Years on the job. And likely purposeful.

"You've been my underwear before, Hank," she muttered at him, as she let go of Jay and made sure to walk as close to Hank as possible as she brushed by him and into the den and the laundry basket of clothes that seemed to take permanent residence in the room.

"Washing your skivvies and seeing pink leopard print riding up your ass are two different things," he rasped harshly in her wake.

She snorted at that, as she started to dig through the basket of clean clothes that he apparently didn't particularly mind washing for her but took issue with folding for her. "Find it a little concerning you've taken such notice of my underwear, Hank," she muttered back at him, as she found a pair of her jeans and pulled it out of the mess of clothes. Jeans were on the small list of clothing items that Hank didn't feel needed to be hung dried, ironed and folded. Not that he'd do any of that for her either, though.

"You don't want me looking at it, stop leaving your clothes in the hamper in the spare room," he told her, as she re-emerged – the jeans pulled up her ass and her fingers working to do up the fly.

"Oh," she cocked an eyebrow at him. "Today it's the spare room?"

He gave her one of his glares that she could see right through anymore. It'd never been a spare room. She'd never moved out of it. If anything she'd become pretty settled back into it over the past nine months after several years of being a bonafide adult and only sleeping over at Dad's a handful of times a year. Holidays or after a particularly bad case where she ended up needing to talk to Hank and be near someone who understood maybe more than she knew. Staying long enough into the night – even if they'd long stopped talking and just ended up staring at the TV – that Hank would tell her to stay. Get some shut eye. That she'd feel better in the morning. She wasn't sure it worked quite that way. But usually on nights like that – after cases like that – it was better she be back home than left to her own devices. They both recognized that.

"Neither me nor your brother need to be seeing that," he gestured dismissively at her efforts to zip up her fly.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Hank, I'm sure my cotton-five-pack-one-fun-pattern-on-sale-Target underwear will really scar you or Ethan for life. About as much as me knowing Eth still wears briefs with florescent camo dinosaurs on them and your boxer drawer has about as much plaid as your closet."

He did glare at her sassy and cast his eyes accusingly toward Jay instead. "If there's going to be hanky-panky going on under my roof – keep it in my bedroom – not my kitchen," he said firmly and then pulled his coffee out of the tray and gestured at the rest. "Coffee," he said flatly like the discussion was completely said and done and they'd never talk about it ever again. Because they wouldn't. "I'm getting E on the go."

He left – both her and Jay gazing after him until he'd clomped up the stairs – no longer trying to be quiet at all. She cast her eyes to Jay and cocked an eyebrow at him.

"That went better than I would've imagined," she said flatly.

Jay gave her a little smile. "Does he know what hanky-panky is? Because I don't think there was hanky-panky going on in this kitchen."

Erin allowed a little suppressed giggle. "Maybe he didn't like the look of your crepes," she said.

"He definitely didn't like your cheekiness," he told her drily.

Erin tried to hide her little grin at that. She knew it was an ass comment – but she also knew that it was her literal cheekiness that had won Hank over from the get.

"As long as you like it," she said, going back over to the stove.

He grinned at her and leaned in for a kiss, teasingly gripping at her ass. "Love it," he said before capturing her mouth.

It was a short kiss but still nice and she gave him a coy smile as they separated and looked into the skillet again, nodding at it. "I think the hanky-panky looks pretty good too," she told him.

"Yea," Jay nodded. "I'm pro hanky-panky in the kitchen."


	66. Nobody

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 61 - BANANA PANCAKES.**

Jay sighed at Eth. "I'm not getting that for you," he told the kid as firmly as he could muster without feeling like he was being a total dick.

Not that he minded being a total dick but he tended to walk a fine line with Eth since he was Erin's kid brother. Anything he said or did would be reported back to her or Voight in some capacity so he had to be careful so things weren't taken out of context and ended up putting him in the shittier no matter what kind of little brat Eth was being that day. Not that he was exactly a brat – but he was definitely a kid with a growing attitude problem and he had his good days and bad days to be around just like anyone. Though, he'd seen Erin give him enough stern words – or be an outright dick right back to him when Eth was being a little dick – that he didn't feel too badly about giving the kid some tone and attitude. The kid was used to tone and attitude – he was being raised by Voight.

Still, Eth looked at him with these fucking puppy dog eyes that the kid had most definitely perfected. Years of being the baby of the family who might've been slightly coddled at moments even if he'd taken hard knocks in others. You didn't always get your way in the Voight household – that was a given. But Eth still seemed to try. The eyes were an indication of that. Jay liked to think he wasn't too good at falling for them, though.

"But it's only fifteen dollars," the kid near whined. "That's only a three dollar difference!"

"I told you I'd spend twelve bucks," Jay pushed back at him. "Not fifteen."

"You can't get anything with twelve dollars!" Eth did whine that time. Which was complete bullshit – because they'd had some varied discussions the past few days about just exactly what he could get with twelve bucks and what he thought he could get before he was now standing in the store had been enough fucking motivation to plow through a pretty decent amount of homework no matter how shitty the kid was feeling each afternoon.

"What do you get for your allowance?" Jay put to him.

Those eyes. The glare. "Twelve," he huffed. "And it's such a stupid amount!"

"It's better than nothing," Jay provided, "which is what you're going to be getting out of me pretty soon."

The glare intensified. "I can give you the three dollars."

Jay gave him firmer eyes. "I am not buying you a videogame," he pressed seriously.

"You said I could pick what I wanted as long as it was a material object for now," Eth argued.

Jay snatched the game away from him and pressed his finger against the rating box. "It's M, Ethan," he told him firmly. "Don't play me. I know the rules. You try to screw me around and I won't be paying for anything."

Eth flared his nostrils at him – just like his fucking sister. Spending time with Erin, Ethan and Voight was definitely teaching him a whole fucking lot about the nature versus nurture thing. A ridiculous amount. Genetics only counted for so much. Thank God. Maybe. The whole nurture aspect seemed pretty scary too when you started to realize exactly how much it came into play.

"Everything is rated M," Ethan tried, turning back to the shelf.

"Right," Jay allowed. "So we aren't spending money on something you won't be allowed to play."

"So we don't tell him I got it and I play it when he's not there," Eth provided.

Jay shook his head. "I'm not getting involved in that. You want to get burned – that's your business. It's stupid. But go ahead. I'm not being the one who pays for it, though."

Eth shoved Call of Duty: Ghosts in his face instead. "Everyone plays this one," he said. "You have too. You gave me an old one when you gave me the Xbox."

Jay took it from him and put it back on the shelf. "Yea, and it got put away because you aren't everyone and you aren't allowed to play first-person shooters."

"You sound like Erin," he moaned.

"It's called adulting," Jay muttered.

He was used to being the adult. He'd had to do it since he was the teenager too. And he was used to being the older brother – even though he wasn't. But it still was sometimes a strange dynamic with Eth. Wasn't so clear to anyone exactly what role he was playing in the kid's life. But it was clear enough that he was around enough that he couldn't always just be the kid's friend. Being just his friend and letting him get his way and get away with stupid shit was a disservice to all of them anyways. If he started playing things that way, Erin and Voight would actually be more stand-off-ish about this kind of one-on-one time ever happening with the kid. And he kind of liked having some of the one-on-one time.

He could see the appeal. What Erin got out of it. Having a kid in your life – something else to focus on – when you weren't on the job was kind of nice. A good distraction. A good way to move away from the job for a bit and think about some other things. Kind of more positive things. And to sort of let walls down that maybe you'd forgotten you had. To have fun. Goof off. Seemed like he hadn't had much opportunity to really do that likely since he was about Ethan's age.

It all sort of gave him other perspectives too. Made him think about a whole lot of things. Especially lately. Since Terry. Since that comment from his wife. "You have kids?" It had been such an innocent question. Normal enough one. Common. At their age and stage. Seemed like they'd moved through the whole everyone from your past getting married stage and slammed into the whole everyone procreating stage. Twenties apparently were about hooking up and settling and thirties were about starting your family. Or at least it was for 'normal' people. Whatever that meant. But Jay didn't think he'd ever really fallen into that category. Not since he was a little boy. He'd had a few years of childhood where he'd bought into the illusion that his family … his parents … his so-called father … had put so much effort into. So much more fucking effort than actually being a father.

But Jay had spent his twenties avoiding his family and trying to deal with the repercussions – on him and his mother – for what his family was. Or rather wasn't. All those implications that had long made him think that family was overrated and it wasn't much for him. He'd had a whole lot of distractions to deal with that. Or rather ignore it and avoid it too. At least they'd been supposedly honorable distractions. Work that mattered – even if maybe he'd sort of gone down those paths initially for the wrong reasons or selfish ones. Maybe he still did in a way. But he also didn't. He valued what he was doing. He knew why he did it. And it wasn't about escaping something anymore.

So maybe his thirties would be playing catch-up. He was moving that way. He had the girl. And he was sort of being convinced of the value of family – if you had the right one. And that just made him think more and more about his own family. Not him and Will and his dad. About the family he wanted to have with Erin.

In some ways spending time with Eth made him feel more ready to be a father. Fuck, sometimes it made him feel like they should hurry up and get to that. It wasn't like they were getting any younger. But he got that he and Erin still had a lot to work out. But somehow they both seemed OK with that. In some weird way slowly chipping through that process seemed what they were most comfortable. It was fucking hard and awkward and so uncomfortable. All these territories that neither of them really wanted to wade into. But they were being adults about it. They were keeping it real. It was making their relationship stronger.

The wedding date might not be set but they definitely weren't bailing or giving up on each other. It was weird. He thought both of them were more interested in talking about the kids thing than they were the whole wedding thing. All the time with Eth likely had something to do with that. A big something. But, even though Jay thought he'd be pretty decent with a kid Ethan's age, he wasn't so sure about the whole baby thing and toddler and pre-school. Like maybe by the time they were about eight he might sort of come into his zone. Maybe.

He picked up a Lego: Batman game off the shelf. "There," he said and showed it to Eth. "That's in the price range and has an acceptable rating."

Eth gave him a death-look. Another Voight trait. "I don't like Batman," he near spat.

Jay shook his head. "Everyone likes Batman," he contended. "He's Batman."

"I don't," Eth told him and grabbed the game from him and put it back on the shelf firmly.

He'd clearly hit a sore point there. He knew there was some kind of baggage about kids calling him Two-Face, which pretty much made Jay want to go into the school and lay a smack-down on those kids. Kids could be so fucking mean. Just malicious. But even with the little assholes being little assholes, he didn't get the kid's dislike of all super heroes.

Seriously? All super heroes? That's a whole way to completely disassociate yourself from about every teenaged boy in the school when Eth was already pretty oddball as it was. The kid didn't seem to have any real heroes. At least not fictional ones.

It was strange to see Eth have Voight up on such a pedestal. His dad was pretty much his super hero. Still. They say that a boy's father is supposed to be his first hero. But Jay's dad definitely wasn't that by the time he was twelve – almost thirteen. Eth – he was. Erin was up there for him too. Likely Al.

Voight had so many fucking grey areas. Was he a good cop or a bad cop? Did he play dirty? Was he dirty now or had he been in the past? Jay tried not to think about it too much or ask too many questions. Sometimes that was hard because he had his own morals. His own standards. His own guides. He didn't doubt that Voight had had some shitty moments as a cop and as a man and as a husband and as a father. He saw some of shitty decisions he made. He heard about them. But he'd also seen the guy be a really good fucking dad. He was a tight ass and ran a tight ship but the amount he cared about his kids? What he'd put on the line for them? Having someone care about you that much? Jay hadn't experienced that. Maybe if he had, he wouldn't feel the need for imaginary super heroes either.

"You liked your Jurassic Park Lego game," was all he said, though, even though he thought there might be a whole lot in Batman's backstory that Eth might relate to – and even though Batman wasn't exactly a super hero. He was just some guy, who'd been through some shit, who had some pretty fucking awesome gadgets and who cared about his city a whole fucking lot. "You're finished it. This will be a similar idea. Your dad will likely be cool with it."

"No Batman," Eth hissed and picked up a Halo game instead.

Jay shook his head. "NO," he said firmly. "I'm not buying you a first-person-shooter and if I say it again, we're leaving and you're not picking anything."

He knew he completely sounded like a parent in that moment. Or at least Erin. The older sibling voice she pulled out on Eth – that wasn't so much an older sibling voice. It was a parenting voice. A voice and tone Jay knew that she'd end up using with their kids. And even though it was so fucking stern, it was so fucking tender too. And it was just as sexy a fuck. Not that he'd tell her that she had a 'mom tone' and that it turned him on.

Eth knowing that his sister had a 'mom voice' would completely gross him out too. But Jay didn't think anyone was blind to the fact that Erin wasn't just playing the big sister role in the family. Sure, sometimes she did. Because her and Eth argued and bickered and wrestled around with each other in a way that he imagined only siblings could. But she was definitely the secondary parent in the family. She had to be. She was an adult.

Funny thing was – she felt she had to be. But Jay didn't think that all siblings with that kind of age gap would step up the way she had. To help raise a little brother? Make some of the sacrifices she'd made in her career and personal life and their relationship to do it? And, he got it. He knew that Erin felt she owed Voight on some level. That he'd rescued her. That his family had made lots of sacrifices for her. But Jay still wasn't sure that others would do the same. And somehow, even though he got annoyed about it sometimes. Even though sharing her with Eth – and the limited free time she had – pissed him off sometimes. The fact she was doing it – and seeing her do it and handle it and herself in all that the family was going through – it made him love her even more. It made him know that she was the exact kind of woman that he wanted to be the mother of his children. To be his wife. To make a family with.

So maybe it was likely Terry's wife had said. He needed to make the time. To make sure he found it. To not put shit off so much. But what had gone on with Terry – all of it – it'd been fuck a mind fuck and being off work that week hadn't really helped. He was never much for time off. Though, he'd been doing his best to fill it. And he'd been filling a lot of it with Eth, which made him understand Erin's assertions that her baby brother being born – having that little kid around – had given her a renewed sense of stability and a reason to be stable and present. He was really starting to get it now.

Even right now – even as Eth huffed and loudly set the game back down. Instead he started to propel himself over to where the console bundles were displayed. Jay thought that was a bit of a useless area of the store to look considering the twelve-dollar spending cap he'd given him and that Eth hadn't brought any of his allowance with him. But he wasn't going to bark at him about it just then.

"Dad's rules are so stupid," Eth mumbled as they went.

"As someone who played a whole lot of violent videogames, I don't think your dad's rules are that stupid," Jay said and stood gazing at all the fancy new hardware with the kid.

He thought Voight could definitely be a tight-ass with Eth. Didn't sound like that had changed that much from when Erin and Justin were growing up under his roof. If anything, it actually sounded like Voight might've released the sphincter a bit with Eth. Not as much 'tough love' as Erin described it. Jay thought there was still a fair bit going on there. A whole lot of rules and all these educational and discipline moments. It wasn't exactly an easy-going household. But some of the rules the guy had just seemed like common sense when you stopped and thought about it or had been in the real world a bit.

Jay sort of wished someone had monitored his video game use and entire screen-time thing a bit better than anyone had. Because he'd definitely played way too much and that hadn't done much of anything to help with his anger and depression and isolation as a teen or even into early adulthood. It actually likely did more than he wanted to think about in shaping the adulthood he'd become. Or at least the one he was for a chunk of his twenties.

Eth glanced at him. "And you played and learned how to be a Ranger," he put flatly.

Jay snorted at that and gave his head a little shake. "That is not how you learn to be a Ranger," he said.

"How am I ever going to learn how to do all that stuff if I don't get to play the games?" Eth argued.

Jay shrugged. "You live in a house of cops."

"People at school talk about them and I hardly know what they're talking about," he mumbled.

"Don't think you're missing out that much," Jay said and then gestured at the game systems. "Why you want to buy a new game when you're planning on getting a new system anyways?"

"Because Dad made me help pay for the iPad –"

Jay gave him a look. "Ethan, your dad made you put like a hundred bucks towards something that's what? Like five hundred? That's a pretty good school."

Eth gave him this disgruntled glare. "It's for school. And I have to ask to download any apps and he basically lets me play no games on it."

Jay rolled his eyes. "You have games on it," he said.

"But I'm only allowed to play them at the hospital or else it comes out of my screen-time!" he moaned.

"Ninety minutes screen-time a day seemed pretty decent to me," Jay said. Another thing that he thought Voight might be onto something with.

But Eth just glared. "The point's that I don't have enough to buy a PlayStation. AGAIN," he lamented. "And what's even the point of saving up to buy it if I'm not allowed to play any of the games?"

Jay gave a little nod. "Good point," he said. But he also thought that it was Voight who'd had the point. He was pretty sure that the guy had orchestrated the whole thing so that Eth wouldn't be able to afford the thing for a while. Though, the whole "spend, save, share" allowance thing combined with like the seasonal budget thing the kid seemed to get was completely over Jay's head. Seemed like the kid would be saving forever to even have some pocket money. Which had been kind of the point with this homework bribe plan. So he gestured with his head. "So maybe we should go look at the Lego or the baseball cards like we talked about?"

Eth gave him another pathetic look but started to move on, Jay keeping up pace with him.

"Maybe Dad will get me the PS4 and The Show for my birthday?" he suggested and gave him a hopeful look like it was Jay who was going to somehow get his dad onboard with that idea. Fat chance.

"Wouldn't get your hopes up," Jay put flatly.

Eth sighed. "Maybe Erin will?" he tried.

Jay just shrugged at that. "She usually spend like three-hundred and fifty bucks on you at your birthday?"

"No …" Eth allowed.

Jay just gave him a look and then pointed down the toy aisle. Eth gave another little sigh but clattered down it.

"Dad's too strict about everything," he muttered as he stopped in front of all the little die casts and stared at them.

The kid had seemed pretty fascinated with cars and engines and mechanics since getting his little circuitry set at Christmas and then getting into the Robotics stuff. Seemed like Voight was likely a bit of a car buff too from some of the stuff around the house. Not that Voight had a lot out that looked like it was specifically his – which was kind of weird since his wife had been gone for so long. But it still seemed like most of the stuff on visible display was hers. Still Jay had caught some glimpses of some more masculine type items that had seeped onto the shelving in the front room and taking up space in his offices both at District and in the house. Cars and history seemed to be the underlying themes. Not that Jay had looked too closely because if he'd been caught looking too closely at anything – touching anything – he might not be allowed to set foot in the house again. And that would suck in so many ways.

"Your dad's just trying to raise you the best way he knows how," Jay told him, reaching to shuffle through some of the hanging car toys too.

They had so many cool special editions out anymore. But he wasn't sure he could imagine paying like five bucks for a Hot Wheels. But he supposed if that's what Eth decided he wanted, he wouldn't deny him that one.

"I have way more rules than everyone at school," Eth said.

Jay glanced at him and shrugged, moving around him and going to look at the Lego, which was what he thought they'd be getting on and in-and-out visit. But instead this was dragging on. Not that he really minded. He didn't have anything else to do that Sunday. But, he thought he'd rather be sharing the time with Erin. She'd opted out of the shopping trip, though. She likely knew what it was really going to be like.

"Well, Eth, as much as I don't see eye-to-eye with your dad about some things and as much as I think he can go a little over-board in the whole over-protection thing, I still think he's trying his best and has your best interests in mind," he said. He held up a box at the kid. "They have some of the Microfighters." He was ready to change the topic. Get off the piss and moan.

Eth glanced at him and came over, examining the shelves. "You just have to say stuff like that because you're going to marry Erin," he said.

Jay gave him an amused smile. "Maybe," he conceded. "But what I know is that your brother and sister had a lot of rules growing up too and even though they don't always get along with your dad or like his rules – they both still talk to him. Me. I didn't have many rules at all and I think maybe your dad is on to something."

Eth looked at him. "It must've been awesome not having rules," he said.

"Not really," he mumbled.

"Why not?"

Jay glanced at him and then looked back at the box in his hand. "May not seem like it at the time, Eth, but sometimes it's really good to have people looking out for you and caring enough to know what's going on in your life. Rules usually have more to do with your parents caring than it does with them trying to be a pain in your ass. Stability and boundaries aren't bad things at all. It's structure. That's a good thing. Trust me." He could feel Eth staring at him and looked at him for a moment but then held out the box. "The Ghost. Looks pretty cool."

Eth's gaze stayed on him for this real long beat. The kid did that sometimes. Read you. It was strange. Sometimes he seemed so screwed up when it came to his ability to process social situations or how to understand how to interact with people. Other times the kid seemed to just be able to look people in the eyes and figure out exactly what they were thinking or feeling. He was an odd kid.

But then after he'd done his little reading, his eyes drifted back to look at the shelf. "They have a Wookie Gunship," he mumbled and gave him another side stare.

Jay sighed with being under the kid's microscope and put the Lego set he was holding back on the shelf. "So is that the one you want?"

Eth just gazed at him again. "How come you hung out all week?" he asked.

Jay shrugged. "Because I was off work," he put flatly.

"For vacation?"

"Nah," Jay said and picked up one of the Technic sets instead and looked at it. It was a motorcycle. A sweet tricked-out street bike.

"Dad has a motorcycle," Eth said flatly.

Jay glanced at him and gave him a squint. "Really?"

"Yea," Eth nodded. "But he put it in storage after Justin borrowed it without asking."

Jay snorted at that and shook his head. Justin was such a shit show. The more he heard about the guy – the more he disliked him. Though, he mostly disliked him because of how much he was fucking up the whole Eth being sick thing and letting Erin carry the brunt of it from a sibling standpoint. He'd been there. It sucked. It caused a whole lot of resentment that could take a real long time to repair. Sometimes it couldn't ever be repaired. But he supposed he couldn't fault him on "borrowing" a motorcycle. Didn't exactly sound like something his teenaged self wouldn't have done either. It actually sounded kind of sweet. Though, significantly less sweet when you knew the how and why behind Justin ending up in Statesville. Not exactly the kind of person you wanted on a stolen motor-bike.

"I tell Dad he should bring it back now because it'd be a lot of fun to fix up," Eth said and took the box out of his hand to examine. It was way outside of their established spending limit.

"Can't get that, bud," he said. "Your dad wasn't too thrilled with me doing this anyway. Not going to rock the boat more by spending thrity-five bucks."

Eth glanced at him. "I won't tell him how much it cost."

Jay shook his head. "I think your dad's been raising kids long enough he's got an idea about how much Lego costs and can guess-timate based on box size."

Eth set it back on the shelf without comment but continued to stare somewhat longingly at it. "So why'd you have to take time off work?" he asked. Like being told to put it down gave him reason to ask the question again.

"Sometimes they make you take time off for all kinds of different reasons," he allowed.

"Did you shoot someone?" Eth asked.

Jay gave him a mildly surprised look. Though, he likely shouldn't be. The kid hung around enough cops he would know some procedures. Policy. And Voight wasn't the kind of person who sugar-coated much of anything. Besides, he was doing that whole read-you look again.

"Did they die?" Eth followed up with.

Jay reached out and gave the kid's head a bit of a scruff. "Nah," he said – at least not telling a lie. "I just needed an excuse to revisit seventh grade math homework."

"Nobody wants to do that," Eth said flatly.

"Yea, well, I'm good at being a nobody," Jay said flatly.

That was a truth. He felt that way more than he was willing to admit. It figured being a nobody let him survive all those gunfights. To be under fire. To not be scared. To not really care. Because who else would? Really? Being a nobody - disappearing into the background - likely why he was making a career in blending in to stake out for Intelligence operations. To go undercover and do a decent job. No beneficiaries. Or at least there hadn't been before. Not a somebody to anyone important. Just people to avoid having to come home and look in the eyes. Being a nobody kept you from having to see those eyes. Though, it seemed like lately, he was having to look into them more and more. Be more and more accountable. To live up to obligations and memories. To fill voids. To be somebody for somebody. Even though he knew deep down he wasn't much more than a nobody. That's how he'd grown up. How he'd learned to see himself. It was just that usually he wasn't stupid enough to say it out loud.

"That's a bad thing to say," Eth said before the sarcasm in Jay's tone had even been allowed to settle. "That's like … talkin' down 'bout yourself. And you shouldn't do that 'cuz you're a cop and a Ranger and like going to marry Erin so that means you're definitely not no one to her. And Erin's really important to us so it means you're somebody in our family. And at work and in the city too."

Jay gave him a thin-lipped smile. That was Eth lacking his filter. But the truth was hearing it from someone – even out of the mouth of this kid – was nice.

"There," Jay said. "Now you sound like your dad."

Eth shrugged. "You sound like dad sometimes too. That's probably why Erin likes you."

Jay scrunched up his face. "Let's hope not."

Eth gaze seemed confused but Jay wasn't going to explain the levels of why that comment was upsetting and disturbing. Girls marrying their fathers? Bad enough. Worse when their father was Hank Voight.

But the kid just picked up the Microfighter again and handed it to him. "This one," he said.

Jay looked at the box. "The Tie Prototype?" he nodded. "Cool."

"It's only ten dollars. Can I get a Hot Wheels too? They had a '56 Porsche speedster. Dad will think that's really cool. Even though it's Euro-Trash."

Jay snorted at that but nodded. "Yea … sure …" he allowed.

Eth gave a little nod and started to go back down the aisle to the cars again. But he gave a little glance over his shoulder.

"Dad said I could invite you for dinner. He is smoking ribs. Because it's the start of Spring Training and the Cubs are playing. But that means you aren't a nobody too. Because Dad basically invites nobody to dinner. And he's inviting you."

Jay just stood there. He knew Erin or Voight would be telling Eth 'filter' in that moment. But sometimes Jay thought he was pretty glad that Eth didn't have a filter. And that through whatever backward way this weird, quirky kid had collided with his life. Maybe what he liked about Eth was that even in the small random moments with the kid – it made him feel like less of a nobody. It actually made him feel pretty important in a weird sort of way.


	67. Irish Car Bomb

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS IS JUST A LITTLE ST. PATRICK'S DAY MISSIVE. IT WILL EVENTUALLY GET MOVED TO SIT AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 61 - BANANA PANCAKES.**

Erin reached for the bedside table and her phone as it made a little tone and vibrated once. Jay made an annoyed sound and buried his face further into the pillow.

"Don't get that," he mumbled.

She gave him a little smile. He was looking a little rough after their night out – and it hadn't even been much of a night. Apparently even playing part-time babysitters to a twelve-year-old when combined with working the job and nearing (or in Jay's case passed) your thirtieth birthday – suddenly made you feel rather old. And with that elderly status came an inability to stay out past midnight and a hangover if you indulged in more than three beer. Jay had indulged in several while they watched the Hawks lose to St. Louis. It was a sad state of affairs and apparently Jay needed to drown his misery about it. Just how much he'd drowned his misery? She'd stopped counting after three because she'd realized when he'd crossed that threshold that he was definitely planning to take advantage of the fact he wasn't on-call that weekend – apparently by spending most of it hung over.

"That's Hank's tone," she muttered at him and continued to fiddle with her phone through her own fog.

They'd stayed out until around 1. Not that late – but after midnight. They really hadn't found their way back to her place until around 2. And even though she'd kind of been hoping for sex that night – because it'd been the kind of week where they'd hardly seen each other outside of work but the kind of cases that pretty much necessitated some fucking to just get beyond it all – they'd both been too tired. Or at least she'd been too tired to initiate. She likely still would've participated if Jay had made a move. But he'd pretty much fallen face first into her bed and hadn't moved at all until the phone started vibrating on the nightstand, trying to rouse them.

"I know," Jay mumbled again. "So don't get it. Neither of us are on-call. It's not about work."

She just gave him a Voight-nurtured grunt. Acknowledged he'd spoken and then completely ignored him. She squinted at the bright screen as she eyes adjusted to the light. But the grunt turned to a groan.

"What?" Jay mumbled with growing annoyance. He clearly thought it was work related and now they were both going to have to drag their over-tired, slightly hung-over, 'we're getting old' asses to some scene.

"He's taking Eth down to see the river. He wants to know if we want to come," she allowed with her own edge of annoyance.

"What time is it?" Jay spat harshly.

She thumbed something into the phone – asking Hank just that – but told Jay, "I think it's around nine? Isn't it?"

"No," Jay said and finally lifted his head off the pillow to look at her. "What fucking time is it now?"

She glanced at her phone again. "Six Forty-Five."

Jay gaped at her and then flopped his head back into the pillow, talking with an edge into it. The fluff muffled some of it but she got the general gist of Jay pretty much wanted to punch Hank in the face and that he was lucky he was his boss and future father-in-law or else he just might consider punching him in the fucking face.

"He likely thinks he let us sleep in," Erin told the back of his head.

His face re-emerged. "Fuck that," he put bluntly.

She gave him a little smile. "He'll want to be there early. You know how he is."

"He's fucking annoying is how he is," Jay said. "You want to know where Eth gets that from? Not the brain injury. That's Voight genetics. There's a bonus point to you know bringing the actual genes into our family."

"I think I'd take the annoying genes over the ones any kids will be getting from me," Erin mumbled and gazed at the phone as Hank confirmed the start time of the dying and the significantly earlier time he wanted to go and battle the crowds. Like pretty much, he was leaving the house now.

Jay just grunted and squirmed around in an attempt to get comfortable again and drift back off.

"So do you want to go?" she asked. "We're awake now."

"I'm not awake," Jay muttered.

She shook at his shoulder. "Yes, you are."

"I grew up here. I've seen the river dyed before. So have they. Why the fuck do I want to go and battle the crowds on my day off to look at that?"

She shrugged. "Eth hasn't been in a few years. Hank's using it as an excuse to eat. He's offering up brunch. You could use some grease after last night."

"I could use some sleep after last night," Jay countered.

"You drank too much," she put to him.

"I hardly drank anything," Jay murmured into his pillow.

"Yea," she shook her head at him. "This really looks like 'hardly drank anything'. Do you remember putting away an Irish Car Bomb?"

"I don't drink that shit," he muttered.

"Oh, your brother ordered you two when you were already partially under the table and you chugged it pretty hastily there, Jay," she provided. "You're lucky you didn't puke in my car or else you wouldn't have made it to this bed."

"I didn't puke," he mumbled.

"Not in the car," she said. "Your boots are in the hall. They can come inside after you've washed them or bought new ones."

He lifted his head and squinted at her. The light looked like it was bothering him. She was pretty sure his head was pounding more than he was willing to admit.

"Do you want an Aspirin?" she offered patronizingly.

"I'm fine," he muttered. "I can hold my liquor."

"Mmm …" she allowed. "Usually. But I also usually don't see you drink more than two. I stopped counting after three beer, Jay. And then it likely wasn't a bright idea to take the drink your brother bought you."

"It's a St. Patrick's Day tradition," he grumbled.

"Yea, well, it's likely good you did it on your night off and not St. Paddy's then," she shook her head.

"I was eating," he hissed. "It was fine."

"I'm pretty sure it was the having eaten part that induced the vomiting after that," she shook her head again and shifted in the bed to get up. "I'm going to go."

Jay grumbled more at that and reached out. His hand landing on her lower back and then his fingers curling into the band of her panties – gently trapping her in place as the backs of his fingers tickled at the sensitive skin.

"Don't go," he said.

She turned and cocked her eyebrow at him. "I'm awake. I'm not going to get back to sleep. I haven't seen Eth in a few days. He clearly has this Saturday off –"

"Yea," Jay interrupted. "They had their Friday late-night practice, pool party thing last night. Mouse got him in the pool."

She gazed at him and shook her head. "What?!" she barked. "Mouse got him in the pool?!"

Eth refused to go in the pool in public. He'd skipped swimming at summer camp the entire past summer. Now these late-night practices, he'd been sitting on the deck the entire season. There was like two weeks left of the season, if they didn't make it through the City Championships and he'd completely refused to get into the pool. Wouldn't dare let the kids see more of his scars than they already saw all over his face. Give any of them – even if they were his teammates that he seemed to have a decent rapport with, even if he hadn't seemed to have created the network of buddies in the way Hank had hoped – any extra ammunition when they already had the marks on his face and his crutches as enough of visual of his "differences".

"See," Jay said, lifting his head off the pillow again to catch her eyes. "I wasn't that drunk. I remember that. Mouse sent a text. Picture."

"TO YOU?" she demanded and leaned across him, reaching for his phone off the other bedside table. "How come I didn't get told any of this?"

"Because you still scare him more than Voight scares him," he mumbled and shifted under her weight to turn over as she – and her braless breast clothed only in a tank top – hung over him in their reach.

He smiled at her when she managed to reach the phone and shot him an annoyed look. She didn't understand why Mouse was so fucking terrified of her. Beyond the fact that he seemed pretty awkward and clueless around women. She thought it was a glimpse of the awkwardness and cluelessness that they were likely going to see in Ethan too as he got older. Fucking deer in headlights and stares that he almost didn't seem to realize he was doing. Could be fucking creepy. Thankfully she knew Mouse was mostly harmless – beyond the whole being a trained killer (aka Ranger) thing.

Though, Mouse seemed to be getting some of his cluelessness under control. Or someone at least found his cluelessness endearing. Eth had reported back that him and some teacher who was also on the Robotics coaching staff "might like each other or are at least friends. But I think like you and Jay are friends because they look at each other all like" and he'd done this whole batting of the eyelashes things that had caused Erin to swat at her baby brother and protest that she didn't do that, which he countered that "yes, you do and so do they to each other" and then he'd made all these kissy faces at her that caused her to swat at him more and then squish him under a pillow, which he found more hilarious than intimidating. She really needed to work on making Ethan way more afraid of her than he was.

Anyway, she'd met Ms. Kissy Face since then. Erica. Mouse had had her over at Molly's a couple times. A Fifth Grade teacher at Iggy's. Helping out with the Lego Robotics group on the team. She seemed nice enough. A little on the young side or at least not as hardened as the lot of them. But E had definitely been right. Mouse was making eyes at her and was clearly more than a little smitten. And she seemed fairly oblivious to Mouse's little quirks. Or at least they didn't bother her. Though, she'd give Greg that he managed to keep up from level of normalcy when he was around Jay and in his comfort zone. She was just happy that the guy was coming out of his shell a bit and seemed a whole lot more stable than when she'd first met him. Also helped give her hope about Ethan managing to live a fairly normal and productive life as he grew up too. Brain injury and trauma didn't have to define you. And didn't mean you needed to be alone. Mouse was pretty much walking proof of that. She knew that Jay had helped his friend get a job in the unit as a solid to help Mouse – to pay him back for whatever he'd done for him that Jay still only provided glimpses of. But it'd been something that had helped her and Hank a lot too and maybe Ethan just as much or more. Jay couldn't have known it would, though. He didn't even know about Eth then.

"I like this positioning," Jay grinned at her and wrapped his arms around his waist.

She struggled in his grip. "You couldn't manage anything with this positioning even if you wanted," she put to him.

"Wanna bet?" he cocked an eyebrow.

"You smell like a bar and vomit," she informed him. "I'm not fucking you." She dropped the phone onto his chest and he flinched a bit. "Unlock it. Show me the picture."

He grunted at her and picked up the phone as she settled next to him, crossing her arms with some annoyance. He handed it to her after he'd pulled up the photo on the screen.

She shook her head while she looked at it. Mouse had more than gotten Ethan in the water – he'd gotten him to smile and look like he was actually having fun. It must've been Erica who'd taken the photo because in it Eth was up on Mouse's shoulders and was in the midst of chucking a sponge ball at some other kids in some sort of water polo game. She didn't doubt that Mouse had likely convinced him by offering to be his partner for the game and had put up with donning swim trunks in front of all the kids too. It wasn't just Eth who've beyond rippled skin of gravel-rash and multiple surgeries and skin grafts was showing down his shoulder, arm, chest and leg. Mouse had similar scars and indentation down his arm and playing across his upper chest. Marks that Erin couldn't pinpoint the exact cause of but knew enough about what had happened to cause Mouse's medical discharge that she could hazard guesses. She also knew enough from watching Ethan's surgeries, recoveries and resulting scars to be able to tell that Mouse had gone through his own skin and muscle grafts in those areas. Those weren't makes that just came from being stitched up.

She glanced at Jay but didn't say anything. Didn't ask. He wasn't in any shape to talk about it that morning even he'd been willing to disclose a bit more of the story in that moment.

"Well, now I need to go see my baby brother to hear about this," she said and handed the phone back to him.

Jay just grunted and looked at the picture for a moment too. "You didn't want to do brunch today when Will invited us," he said as she got out of bed and started padding around the room.

She glanced in the mirror. She was definitely going to have to do a morning shower before trying to catch up with Hank and Ethan. She was looking a little rough too. But she'd stopped at one – which was pretty much what she'd committed herself to anymore. She was just tired. She lived in a perpetual state of tired anymore it seemed. Maybe Jay was onto something about sleeping in that day. But she really doubted that she'd be able to fall back asleep now. Her body rarely let her sleep in anymore.

"I doubt Will's going to be in any shape for brunch either," she mumbled. All the guys had been a little rowdy in Molly's last night. The Hawks losing combined with the Friday before St. Patrick's Day and the night before the city's annual bruhaha made for stupidity from grown men.

"You just didn't want to have brunch with the baby," Jay provided.

Erin shrugged. "It was more I didn't feel like spending the money at the kind of place that your brother and Natalie would pick to eat at."

"You've said multiple times you want to eat at Lula's," Jay muttered.

"Yea," Erin said. "But I don't go because I don't want to stand in that line."

"Erin," Jay said giving her the most serious look he had so far that morning. He almost looked sober again. "Three words. Smoked trout scramble."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't feel the need to 'trout out' the way you do."

"Oh, I think you like when I 'trout out'," he cocked that eyebrow at her with that teasing glint in his eyes.

But she just huffed at him. "I really hate when you call it that," she said.

"Oh, c'mon, I'm teasing," he said.

She glared at him. "It's disgusting. It makes it sound like I have hygiene issues."

He rolled his eyes. "You don't have hygiene issues."

She shook her head at him. He was really fucking annoying her that morning. He should just shut up and sleep it off. "Whatever ..." she muttered. "I just definitely don't feel the need to do any kind of 'trouting out' on a Saturday where even people who don't usual get brunch are going to be getting brunch."

"But you'll go eat brunch with Voight and Ethan?" Jay put to her.

She shot him a look from wading around their discarded clothes on the floor. She'd clearly actually spent time at her condo that week because it was a fucking mess. More reason to leave. If she hung around too long it'd just get messier or she might actually feel the need to make her bedroom look like she knew how to adult.

"Hank will take Ethan to Glenn's," she said with an edge. "He'll eat cereal."

"That's not exactly brunch," Jay muttered.

"Hank likes what he likes," she said and dug out a clean towel from the closet, tossing one at the foot of the bed for Jay when he did decide to get up. "He doesn't let Ethan eat cereal at home."

"Yeah, and Will likes what he likes. So we could spend some time with my family this weekend," Jay grumbled.

"We spent time with your brother last night," she shot back at him. "And he pretty much set us up so we waste our days off by plying you with alcohol and you going along with it."

He moaned some annoyance at her. "Stop yelling," he said.

She shook her head and headed for the bathroom door. "I'm not yelling," she said in her completely acceptable indoors voice.

"You don't like Natalie, do you?" Jay called at her.

She sighed and leaned in the doorway of the bathroom. "Jay," she huffed. "It is incredibly awkward to spend time with your brother and Natalie right now."

"Why?" he asked, lifting his head off the pillow again.

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Because your brother went and professed his undying love to her like two months after she became a single mom and she wasn't ready to hear that."

Jay gave a little nod. "Yea, but Will's kinda—"

"Completely retarded about relationships," she put back to him.

Jay shifted his head from side-to-side. "Pretty much …" he agreed.

"So it's weird spending time with them together right now. Fine. They're still friends and are working on figuring it out-"

"Well, we can appreciate that …" he put back to her.

"Yea," she agreed firmly. "But that doesn't mean we need to be around and hold their hands while they do it." She shook her head and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door partially to give herself some privacy as she stripped off what she'd slept in. "It's too strange of vibe between them right now. It's strained. I don't want to be around it. Let them work it out on their own. I'm happy to spend time with them individually. Just not together. Right now."

She heard a creak in the floor and glanced just as the door pushed open. Jay's thumbs were already hooked in his briefs and pushing them down. She gave his build a brief glance. She'd seen it enough before – in better circumstances – she didn't need to look too closely. Though, he was definitely looking at her naked body more than a cursory glance.

She cocked her eyebrow at him. "Does this mean you're coming?"

He cocked his eyebrow right back. "Don't know. Does it?" he asked slyly.

She rolled her eyes at him but he just dipped in and captured her mouth in a kiss. She let that last all of two seconds before breaking away and shaking her head at him.

"Mmm …" she said scrunching her nose at him. Irish Car Bomb was fucking right.

"You're supposed to kiss me. I'm Irish," he grinned cheekily.

Erin shook her head. "I don't think so. And, if you think any kind of coming is going to be happening, brush your teeth before getting in the shower."

He allowed a quiet snort of annoyance at her as she slipped away from where his arms had landed on either side of the counter and she cranked the taps and started the shower spray, stepping inside. But she'd barely disappeared behind the curtain when she heard the sink turn on and the water pressure change slightly in the shower. So maybe Jay would be coming – and cumming – after all.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: The chapter before this was just posted last night. You might have missed it. Please check it out. Feedback is always appreciated.**


	68. Breakfast

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 66 - IRISH CAR BOMB.**

"Do I look like an ATM?" Hank directed at Halstead, completely interrupting E's lengthy monologue to Erin's simple question about him getting in the pool the other night.

He'd already heard the story. He'd seen it. Mouse earned his browner points for doing that for his kid. His kid had had fun. Fine. Erin didn't need a ten minute answer to "did you have fun?". Everything was a fucking ten minute answer with Magoo. At least.

So he'd instead found himself glaring at Halstead who looked like he was about two under the table. That pissed him off enough. Guy shouldn't be having that amount of alcohol in front of his daughter.

Him and Erin had an agreement about the whole drinking thing since her little banana peel slip. Sure, fine. She was on the mend. Doing better. No major slips that he was aware of. She sure as fuck hadn't had a lot of time for slip-up or idle hounds with E landing back on their doorstep just as she was starting to regain his trust. And Magoo being home had sure done a whole lot in helping her regain his trust and keeping her busy and on the straight and narrow too. Distraction. Stability. All good. So – if she wanted to go out and have one or two. Fine. But she wasn't coming into his house or into his bullpen looking the way she'd been looking for those weeks after they'd lost Nadia. Wasn't happening in front of his kid and wasn't happening in front of his team. Not again. And she'd been respecting that. Doing good. If she had taken any benders – she'd done it on her own time when she had a window to get it out of her system before she planted herself in front of his eyes and his noses. And all her drug tests had come back clean.

But Halstead should be fucking supporting her in that. Not sitting there looking blue around the gills. Voight didn't fucking care it was the Saturday before St. Patrick's Day. Didn't care that it was all the Irish festival shit in the city that weekend. Grown men had to have good reason to be sucking back a bottle – especially ones with important people in their lives and a job to do. Fucking St. Paddy's wasn't on the list of good reasons.

Erin's eyes moved from her half-listening to E. She'd clearly lost interest in his play-by-play of the pool night too and had been glancing at her menu. Likely looking at it with more interest than she needed to given their family had eaten in the place enough to know the thing backwards and forwards. But now her eyes met his, saw his glare at the fucking oblivious Halstead, and her eyes shifted to him instead. Apparently her eyes sitting on him was enough to garner his attention and he glanced at her questioningly, only to slowly turn to take in Voight's stare.

"Pardon?" Halstead managed. Even the gravel in his throat was a give away of how hung over he was. How much he'd drank. If the way he was holding himself at the table wasn't enough of an indication.

"Do I look like an ATM?" Voight put to him more firmly. Halstead squinted at him. Not that that said much. The guy was clearly squinting against the light – period. To the point that Erin, who always claimed an outer seat for easy escape, had taken the window spot to protect the guy from some of the sun streaming into the place.

"You're looking at the wrong side of the menu," Voight put flatly when the guy still seemed fucking clueless.

The guy glanced down and gazed at the menu again. He was looking at all the entrée type crap. Steak and eggs, fish in your eggs, sandwiches that didn't count as breakfast, eggs Benedict. Shit like that. Things with a price tag over ten bucks for a breakfast. Voight wasn't paying no ten bucks for breakfast – not even for his kids, let alone this guy. Especially looking like that.

Erin reached and flipped the menu in his hands. "Just order one of the specials," she mumbled at him.

Halstead looked at the new list of bacon and eggs in front of him and cast Voight a look. Was drunk enough that he wasn't smart enough to hold his tongue. As he shifted his eyes back to the menu, he muttered under his breath, "I can pay for my own breakfast."

Voight just smacked at that. Letting his glare sit on Halstead a moment longer before shifting to E and putting forward an attempt to get him to officially shut up about swimming. "What you getting, Magoo?"

"Cereal," Eth said flatly.

Erin cast Halstead some sort of smart-ass look at that. It was a clear 'I told you so' and another clear moment for Halstead to depict he wasn't on his game because he'd let rip, "Could get two boxes of cereal for what a bowl costs."

E heard it too and gave Halstead a glare of his own. "It comes with fruit," he said defensively. "And we don't buy cereal at home."

Halstead made some sort of sound and moved his eyes back to his menu like he really needed to read it to grasp the fact you could get one egg, two eggs, or three eggs with ham, bacon or some sausage links, and home fries with a side of toast. This was not some fucking tasting menu where you didn't know what the fuck you were ordering.

Voight just smacked again and moved his unimpressed eyes to Erin. "What'd you get up to last night?"

Wasn't usually something he bugged her about. Not since he'd let her move back into her own place. She was an adult. Her business. But he was meant more as a point to Halstead than her. And she knew it. She gave him challenging eyes.

"Went to Molly's," she said defiantly. "Watched the game. Saw Will."

"Mmm…" Voight grunted. "Hawks lost," he said flatly. Didn't think they were the only ones who lost. Looked like Halstead had too. Big time.

Erin shrugged and drew circles on the plastic covering for the menu for a moment. But then reached and grabbed Halstead's menu, staking it on top of hers. He gave her an unimpressed look.

"Get the bacon," she told him sharply. She'd clearly picked up on how unimpressed Voight was and now was projecting her own distaste with that at Halstead. Couldn't pull his shit together and now he was getting her into shit. "You could use the grease."

"Bacon's gross," E provided.

She reached across the table and grabbed his menu, followed by Hank's – stacking them together and putting them at the end of the table, likely in hopes that someone would come and take their order so they could get this breakfast outing over with a little quicker considering Halstead's state.

"You're not the one who has to eat it," she mouthed at her brother.

"You should get the cereal," Ethan directed at Halstead. "They have lots of kinds," he added and pointed firmly at the wall of boxes behind the counter.

"Yea, I noticed," Halstead muttered.

E squinted at him and cast a look to Erin. "He's in a bad mood. Why'd you bring him?"

Voight smacked some agreement, which Erin glared at but shifted her gaze to her brother again. "Because I was with him when you guys invited me. So it wouldn't be very nice to not invite him, would it?"

Ethan scrunched up his nose. "He was with you? He slept over again?"

Erin rolled her eyes. "Yes, Eth. Again," she allowed. "When you're engaged to someone you tend to have 'sleepovers' a lot."

His boy's face got even more unimpressed. "Gross," he provided.

Erin's eye roll just got more pronounced. "Right. Disgusting," she said flippantly and glanced around again for some service. Wouldn't be fast coming.

The place was packed – as expected. Was most mornings. Worse on the weekends. Add in the river dying show and the parade and you'd be hard press to find a joint that was filled to the gunnels. Just the way it was. Likely would've been better to wait until after the dye got put in the water. Try to grab something between the green mess and the parade. Not that Voight intended to keep E out for the parade. Too much standing around in the damp for where he was at with his stamina and his perpetual state of freezing. But there would've been a lull in the crowds jamming any eating or drinking establishment within a fifteen block radius. Better if they'd done lunch and waited for the majority of the merrymaking assholes to be along the parade route. But Hank fully intended to have his kid back in the house by then. Besides, no matter what time of day they ate at Glenn's, Magoo ordered the cereal. He could tolerate that at breakfast. Couldn't watch it at lunch or dinner. Kid needed real food in his body.

"I don't get why you have to do that ALL. THE. TIME," E said. He'd clearly picked up on some of the dynamic going on and was doing his best to get a rise out of his sister. Or maybe Halstead – because he turned right to the younger man at that point and provided, "I've seen Erin naked. It's not that exciting. It's actually pretty disgusting."

Erin gaped at Eth and reached across the table, whacking him against his bicep firmly to the point that he made a little sound and wrapped at it like it smarted, gaping right back her. Voight made no comment. Sometimes you needed to let the kiddies work it out amongst themselves – even if one of the kiddies was a grown woman.

"One," Erin said in that righteous tone of hers, "you need to learn to knock."

"Your door was open," E provided.

Her mouth hung again and she shook it madly at him, casting Voight annoyed eyes. "It was not open," she said. "The doors in the house just don't have locks. That is NOT an invitation for you to just walk right in when the DOOR IS CLOSED."

E shrugged at her and looked away and she batted at his chin until he looked at her. "Two, I was not naked."

"You were in your underwear," E said. "It was just as disgusting. I'm pretty much scarred for life."

Erin gaped at him like he'd gone and got stupid on her and Voight gave his head a shake.

"Don't give your sister a hard time," he directed at his son, who just shrugged and looked out the window.

"Yea," Erin said with that tone that indicated it was now going to be her who was working to get a rise out of her brother and Voight was just left wishing he'd never put forward this outing to either of his kids. Some times family time and going out to city traditions was just a giant fucking headache. "Or else I'll start reminding you about how I've seen you naked."

"You have not," Ethan said with that teen-aged tone that was seeping out of him more and more with each passing day.

Even though everyone at that table knew it was a lie. Forget when E had been a baby and a toddler needing diapers changed or help getting dressed or just completely running around the house in his bare ass before or after tub time. Over the past year even, Erin had had to help her brother in various states of undress. Obviously mortifying for a kid that age – but not something they ever spoke about outside the family. You did what you had to do and sometimes E needed some immediate help when Hank wasn't immediately at hand. His sister was. She felt with it in ways to make it was least mortifying as possible for her little brother. But now he was pushing her buttons.

"Oh, not only have I seen your naked ass, Ethan," Erin put to him. "I have wiped it." Hank's boy glared at her – not very frighteningly challenging her to go on. "And it's a pretty cute little ass. Dimples in each cheek."

Hank let out a small amused sound at that – even though he shouldn't have. But the look on Erin's face as she worked to get the goat of a twelve year old – to out best him when he'd been trying to poke at her and Halstead. And that defiant, embarrassed grimace on Eth's face as he tried to come up with something to spit back. Better still was because of the truth of the statement. Ethan did have a dimpled little ass when he was a baby. And it had been pretty cute.

But Voight's sound just made Magoo get angrier and rather than spit venom at Erin, there was a clunking sound and Erin jumped a bit and leaned even farther across the table.

"DO. NOT. Kick me," she hissed at him and there was another clunk. That one accompanied by Ethan letting out a yelp and glaring at her.

"No fair!" he whined angrily. "I hardly touched you. Your legs are way longer."

There was another clunk and E again squirmed and winced. "Then stop trying to kick me. You're still swinging your legs."

Voight held up a hand and gave both of them firm eyes. "Saying this once," he pressed at them. "Won't say it again. We're in public. Behave accordingly."

The threat was implied. There wouldn't be another warning. They continued to piss him off – any of them – and he'd be standing up and they'd be leaving. Again – all of them.

E and Erin glared at each other. Sometimes he thought he had a couple of four year olds he was still parenting with the way they interacted with each other. Funny that growing up an only child made him want his kids to have siblings. Now watching siblings interact, he thought it might've been best he hadn't had a brother or sister. He likely would've pummelled them senseless before they managed to get through their youth.

He glanced up, though, as a hand landed on his shoulder. "These two bothering you," said the guy who put it there. Someone he almost tolerated touching him.

"Hey, Benny," Hank greeted, as the guy's hand fell away. "You gonna kick their asses out for me?"

"Don't know," the man said, casting E a smile and Erin a look. "Looks like they might need their asses kicked somewhere." Erin shook her head and gave Ethan another glare. "Haven't shown your face in here in a while," Benny put to her.

She shrugged. "Haven't been invited in a while."

"Why'd I go inviting you if it means I don't get to eat my breakfast in peace?" Hank said and Erin gave him that condescending eye roll of hers.

Benny just smiled and slapped Hank's shoulder again before leaning across to catch E's eyes. "So what's on the menu today, Handsome?"

"Cereal," Ethan allowed shyly – just like he always did when anyone cast some sort of catch-phrase at him that indicated they might've looked at him. Might've seen his scars or how pale he was.

"Ah, let me guess …," Benny nodded. "Honey Nut Cheerios? That fancy gluten-free box I got behind the counter just for these such visits."

Ethan slouched a little more at the attention. "Yes …" he allowed.

"Yes what?" Voight barked at him sternly.

"Yes, please …" Ethan said nervously, casting his dad a look.

Benny nodded – not even taking a note - gave the rest of the table a look. "What about the rest of you?"

"Usual," Erin said flatly.

Benny grinned at her. "You haven't been in here how long and you expect me to remember what 'the usual' is?"

"Over-ez-" Erin started but Benny interrupted her, smiling wider.

"Over-easy, sausage, easy on the harsh browns, extra orange slices, and tomatoes instead of toast," he quoted at her. Erin gave him a thin smile and he jutted a thumb at Hank. "Should be nice to your old man. Only get weekend brunch with 'em for so long." His eyes shifted to Halstead and he raised an eyebrow at him, casting Hank another look. "What about this joker?" he asked and Halstead made a face. "Got some balls sitting in front of the future father-in-law looking like that. Don't he? He's the one, right?"

"He's the one," Voight agreed.

"Hmm …," Benny nodded and examined fuming Halstead before casting his eyes back to Erin. "Don't know, Erin. You sure he's the one?"

Erin rolled her eyes. "He's the one."

"Hmm …," Benny allowed and glanced at her hand, jutting another finger. "At least he's got some sense handing a ring to this one," he put back to Hank and then turned to Halstead. "So what you having, Buddy?"

Halstead clearly didn't like that. "Scramble and bacon," he muttered.

Benny gave a bit of a shake of a head. "We'll do you up an omelet. The hair of the dog omelet. Get you straight before you hit up stage two of the weekend." His eyes went back to Hank. "You going down to the parade?"

"River," he allowed.

"Do parade?" Benny gaped at him in faux horror. "What's the point of mingling with the riff-raff, if you ain't going to see the pomp and ceremony?"

Hank shrugged and gave E's head a bit of a bat. "This one's got homework and chores waiting for him at home."

"Homework and chores on St. Paddy's weekend? What kind of slave house you running there Voight?"

It earned a little smile out of E but Hank just grunted. Truth was he'd hoped that Erin might've offered to spend some time with E that afternoon. He was careful about asking too much out of her on the days she wasn't scheduled. Wasn't on-call. Letting her get some own personal time. Have time for herself and her relationship. To rest and recharge. To not feel like the babysitter or over-worked and under appreciated. But he didn't usually turn her down if she called to say she was coming over or offered up taking E out or taking him over to her place for a few hours. Gave Voight some time to get his own shit down without the kid underfoot. Or without the risk of wearing E out with the errands of daily life and maintaining a household. And it was just plain nice to get some time without the kid himself too. But it definitely didn't look like that was going to happen that day.

Erin would be in a mood about Halstead. Halstead would be in a mood about her dumping him – even though he didn't look like he'd be a joy to spend time with that day. And Erin and E were bickering at each other like cats and dogs. Or brother and sister. Funny how kids could be curled together like kittens from the same litter in one seconds and chewing at each other's necks in the next. You'd think that they'd get less annoying with age and age gaps. Not so much.

"So the usual for you too?" was all Benny put back to him too, though.

"Hmm …" Voight acknowledged and held up the menus in offering.

Benny took them but nodded his head off toward the counter. "Got a sec," he said.

Voight gave a little nod and moved to slide out of the booth. He'd barely stepped away from the booth when he heard, Halstead go, "Does he know everyone in this fucking city?"

"Yes," E provided for him.

Erin cut in with, "Stop acting like that."

"Like what?" Halstead muttered.

"Hungover," she spat. "You're pissing him off. And me. Why'd you come if you're going to be like this?"

"I thought you wanted me to come?" Halstead said.

"Not if you're going to be like this," she muttered with an annoyance.

"Erin, my shoelace is undone," E interjected.

"So do it up," Erin feigned annoyance.

"I can't," E moaned. "My hands are shaking too much."

"And you're going to eat cereal?" Halstead said. "Smart."

There was a pregnant pause and then Erin mouthing, "Move," at Halstead and then sighing heavily. "I'm crawling on the ground under a table to do up a twelve-year-old's shoe in a crowded restaurant," she muttered overly loudly.

"I like the view," Halstead said.

"That's gross," E provided.

Voight just shook his head. That pretty much summed up family life and his Saturdays anymore. He didn't know if he was supposed to love it or hate it. Or a bit of both.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **I've got some ideas for a chapter with Hank/Olive (and a bit of Ethan and Henry) with her having come for a visit without Justin.**

 **Also got an idea for Hank in an interrogation room with some more glimpses into his past and the collision that took Camille's life and hurt Ethan.**

 **And I got an idea for a chapter with Hank and Erin (and some Halstead) but it'd be a pretty big spoiler and would skip some of the set up chapters that I'd come back to later.**

 **Also still playing with the idea of a O/S of Hank and Camille set just before the collision.**

 **And contemplating posting a very short Easter missive with Erin/Ethan/Jay.**

 **I know most people's priority is the Jay/Erin Halstead's backstory/McFlurry chat — which I'm working on. It's just taking a bit to come together the way I want and I'd been hoping we'd get a bit more of the show's take on his backstory this season but apparently that's not going to happen. So I'll just go with my take/speculation.**

 **I also know that some people are anxious to see Ethan's birthday and/or his time at Regionals and/or Erin's birthday.**

 **Still, let know what your thoughts are on the above ideas and what some of your priorities are on things you'd like to see.**


	69. Think On It

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 ********CHAPTER SPOILER WARNING: This chapter is set in the future. The story is currently set in late January. This would be about mid/late March. It has MINOR spoilers related to Ethan's Robotics Team. ********

 **AUTHOR NOTE: I posted Chapter 46 - The Other Guy — earlier today. Don't miss it.**

Erin glanced up as Hank put a cup off coffee in one of only free spaced amidst the clutter her desk. She gave him a thin smile.

"Thanks," she allowed.

He just returned an even thinner smile and leaned in, placing a light kiss somewhere in the crown of her hair in the midst of the dark bullpen and than he slumped down in the hard chair next to the desk, his hand coming up to rub at his face in the fatigue that she felt radiating through her too. But his presence – the light embrace, the small kiss, the show of affection – it meant he wanted to talk. So she let herself sit back in her chair, crossing her arms and waiting for him to say whatever it was he needed to say.

"You shouldn't stay much longer," he finally provided, gesturing absently at the vacant space. "Don't need to always be the last one out of here."

She just made a little sound and shook her head, gazing off behind him at the case board. "This one's getting to me. You know?"

He gave a little nod. A grunt. And gestured off toward the stairs. "Sometimes you need to step away from it for a bit to see what's staring at you," he offered. "Shut eye for fresh eyes."

Erin just shook her head. "I can't sleep right now," she conceded but looked at him. "You should go, though. Ethan …"

Hank just grunted again and stared at her. "Just wanted to touch base," he said. "Seems like don't get one-on-one with you much lately."

She let out a little sigh and shrugged. She didn't know how to respond to that. They saw each other daily. At work. A lot of the times they saw each other in the evenings. On weekends. But it had kind of become passing ships in the night. Work and Ethan. When they spoke – it was usually about that. Or more likely just co-ordinating something to do with one of those things – less so than it actually being anything that resembled a real conversation. Not that Hank really did conversations. But still. He had a point. Their face-to-face time had been less than it had been in a long time. Or at least the real substantial face-to-face time.

"Thought we should talk a bit," he said.

She made another little noise and shook her head, rocking forward in her chair and back to her keyboard. "Hank, if this is about Easter again – I really don't feel like driving all that way for basically an overnight. Me and Justin have hardly spoken since Christmas."

His eyes looked hurt by that. She knew he didn't like it. Didn't like there being a riff in the family. Didn't like her and Justin having a beef. Didn't like being caught in the middle. Didn't like that his kids didn't want much to do with each other at the moment. But it was what it was. They'd had some communication. They just hadn't mended all their bridges yet. And Justin hadn't with Ethan yet and he hadn't with Hank yet. It wasn't like she was on her own in any of it. It was just that Justin was Hank's son. And the father of his grandson. So maybe Hank was trying a little harder to get this resolved than she felt like she had the time or energy for. Besides, she thought it should be Justin who was leading the effort – not her.

"It's about seeing Henry," Hank said. "Not your brother."

She made another sound. These days hearing Justin referred to as her brother seemed hard. But it was. They'd grown up together. Been through a lot together. But lately – she was having a hard time seeing him as her brother. She loved him. She'd fought for him and took care of him and protected him in her own ways. But it just felt like he wasn't returning that love and care these days. Sometimes he felt more like a stranger than the little brother she'd spent her teens with.

"You're still pretty annoyed with Justin too," she provided.

"Yea," Hank grunted. "And go ahead and be pissed off at him. But don't let it fuck up your relationship with Henry. You will regret not making the time to watch your nephew grow," he pressed at her. "To be a part of his life."

She sighed. "Hank … I'm tired. Right now you don't have me scheduled that weekend. You and Ethan are going to Justin's. So I just want a couple days to myself. With Jay."

Hank grunted. "Me and E aren't going."

Erin gaped at him. "What do you mean you aren't going?"

He made a dismissive gesture – like this wasn't a big deal to him. But she fucking saw through it. Hank adored Henry. He lived and breathed Henry. He'd fall on his sword for that baby just as much as any of them. Run himself into the dirt. Erin saw the way he glowed when he got off Facetime or Skype from one of his 'talks' with his grandson. She knew it killed him that Justin was based out-of-state. That he likely always would be considering he'd picked army over Air Force or Navy or Coast Guard. Then maybe he would've ended up back home. As it was, it was more likely he was going to ultimately end up somewhere in the South – even further away from them, when he was state-side at all.

"E's State Championships start on the Thursday. He'll be wrecked if I've got him visiting on the weekend and then States?" Hank just shook his head like it clearly wasn't an option. And maybe he was right – for Ethan it wasn't an option. Not if he wanted to be in the best form he could be for the State Championships – but Hank was a different story.

Erin let out a slow breath, looking down as she made her decision about what to do. She didn't like it. But she didn't hate it either. It just was what it was and it was family. It was Hank.

"Hank," she sighed out, finding his eyes. "You want to see Justin and Henry. So go see Justin and Henry. I can watch Ethan."

Hank just grunted and shrugged. "He's got shit he wants to do anyway."

Erin raised her eyebrow at him. "Since when do you care what a twelve-year-old kid wants to be doing?"

He allowed her a thin smile at that for her effort. They both knew it was true. Hank had always been very much 'do as your told' model. It'd worked OK with her to a point – mostly because she didn't want to end up back on the street or under Bunny's care again. But it'd definitely blown up in his face multiple times with Justin. Not that that had changed his technique much. But, she also knew they all acknowledged he was a little more lenient with Ethan. Had learned from some of the blow-outs he'd had with her and Justin as teens and was likely trying to avoid them repeating. She was pretty sure he was just going to get new ones, though. Different kid, different problems – still a teenager. There'd still be bullshit.

"The team is gonna want to be doing some last minute shit before States," he provided. "And E really wants to keep his place in the pits. Can't be pulling him away the weekend before the tourney."

"And you won't be," Erin said more firmly. "Because I'll be making sure he gets where he needs to be."

Hank just exhaled and shook his head.

"Hank …" she muttered again. He was so fucking stubborn. She knew it was what got him through. Hell, she knew it was what got her through too. But it was a bitch to deal with.

"Not what I wanted to talk 'bout anyway," he rasped.

She eyed him. She could see that the way he was looking at her had changed. It was softer. A slight worry to it – but a seriousness. It was his dad look. The dad look he gave her. One she hadn't been getting that much lately because they were either at work and there he was her boss, whether she liked it or not. Or they were at his home – and then it usually involved Ethan – and she didn't really know what they were there anymore. Caretakers of the kid? Either way, it often felt more like equals than it did the father-daughter relationship they had.

"You've got a birthday coming up," he said flatly.

She felt the wind get knocked out of her – because she knew what he was saying, even though he wasn't saying it. She shook her head looking away. "Hank—" she started again.

But he held up his hand to stop her. "I'm not going to bug you about it," he said.

She made a little nod, still not meeting her eyes. "I should just expect Dr. Charles to pull up a stool the next time I'm in Molly's, right …" she said indignantly.

She could feel him giving her that look – that tongue around the teeth, elongated chin look. A confirmation that – yeah, he'd likely already said something to Charles and yeah, the guy was likely going to be having some other heart-to-heart with her about the elephants in the room and how you take the pieces out one at a time. Eat it bit by bit. And wasn't that life? You just always had to fucking eat it. Such fucking bullshit.

"You've been distant the last few weeks," he said flatly.

"Thought you weren't going to bug me about it," she muttered, still looking away.

He paused again. The stare still on the side of her head. "I'm just checking in," he said. "I know how anniversaries are." She let out a slow breath at that. "I know we've been slammed here. That E's got us running around in circles and passing like ships in the night at home. OK? I know. I just want to hear you're taking care of yourself."

"I'm taking care of myself," she mumbled.

"Erin," he said and she still kept staring at the stairwell – wishing he'd just go. "Do I need to tell my adult daughter to look at me when we're having a conversation?"

She flair her nostrils at the comment but brought her eyes over to his. She did her best to drill them into them. To make them look angry rather than hurt and sad or distant. She knew she wasn't doing it. Not well. He knew her looks. He always fucking won when she even tried. Looked right through her. Into her soul – and all the things she didn't want him to see. So she did the next best thing – crossing her arms to try to protect herself from the aches that were starting to radiate through her.

"Staying here all night chasing a case isn't taking care of yourself," he said.

She shrugged. "Guess I'm just following another example you taught me."

He smacked his lips at that – clearly unimpressed. "And, I think we both know where that got me. Where it got our whole family. It didn't work."

She shifted her eyes to gaze straight ahead instead – staring absently at the computer monitor in front of her.

"You letting Jay into where you're at in that head?" he asked.

She shook her head and shrugged. "Yea, sure," she muttered.

It was a half-truth. She'd been talking to him. But she also didn't want to talk. She didn't want to think about it. Any of it. Not Nadia. Not what happened. Not the friend she'd lost. Not how she'd tried to smoother the pain. Not the choices she'd made and how far she'd fallen and how hard it'd been to crawl back out of that hole.

"Right now isn't a smart time to be pushing him away," Hank said flatly.

She drilled her eyes into him at that. "Our relationship is fine," she hissed at him.

He puckered at her but allowed the faintest nod, reaching and drumming his fingers on her desk for a moment. "Know you don't particularly want to celebrate," he offered, finding her eyes again. They were that softer – that dad – look again. "But thirty's a big one. I'd like to take you to dinner at least. Doesn't have to be the day of. Just … vicinity."

She shrugged. "Yea, sure …"

He gave her a thin, sad smile at that. Examining her for another long moment. It felt way too long. "Funny got three of you kids with big ones this year," he muttered, giving her a bit firmer smile – or what Hank passed as one. "Thirteen, thirty. H hitting one."

She allowed him the faintest smile at that. "Becoming a teenager is likely more exciting."

"Mmm …" Hank grunted. "Maybe for him." She allowed the comment to tug at the corners of her mouth a bit more and Hank caught it – and her eyes. "If Eth's team places in States, they'll be going onto Regionals."

"I know," she shrugged.

He gave a little nod. "They'll be the weekend of your birthday. St. Louis. I'll be going down." She just nodded some acknowledgement at that but he just found her eyes more firmly. "Know you got Halstead here, but I'd like ya to be near family that weekend, Erin. To come down there with us, if that's where we're at."

She let out a slow breath, feeling it exhale from her lungs and stared at him. But he was already rising.

"Just keep it in mind," he said and again stepped into her, wrapping his arm more firmly around her shoulder that time and his kiss on the top of her head seeming to linger in her hair longer than before. "Wrap up here soon," he said, as he straightened. "Halstead will be waiting on ya. Don't make him wait too long."

She gave him a thin smile but he was already checking his pocket for his wallet and moving to his office to grab his jacket off the coat stand, pulling it up his arms as he headed for the stairs.

"Night, Kiddo," he said – almost like they hadn't talked at all.

"Yea …" she allowed, watching him go. "Give Eth a hug for me."

He cast a look at her and gave her that thin lipped smile again. "Always," he allowed and disappeared down the stairs.

She watched after him – listening to him clank out the secure gate and saying something to the Desk Sergeant in the quiet of the night shift in the foyer. And she sat some more – her eyes drifting back to the case board she didn't want to look at and didn't want to think about. What she wanted to do was cry. But she kept telling herself she'd cried all her tears – and any that were left she wasn't going to shed in District.

But one trickled anyways and she reached and swiped it away – all indignant.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: I posted Chapter 46 - The Other Guy — earlier today. Don't miss it.**


	70. Golden Child

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET AFTER CHAPTER 49 - THINK ON IT. It will be moved in about 24 hours to reorder.**

Jay went and let his back hit against the lockers as he slide down to the floor, settling himself next to Eth as the kid wiped furiously at his eyes trying to hide the fact he'd been drawn to tears. He didn't do a great job at disguising it, though. His face was still flushed red and the streaks were still trailing down his cheeks even if the tears weren't too visible at that moment. The kid sniffled, trying to draw up the snot that had been trickling down his nose with the tears too.

"Hey …" Jay offered.

Eth didn't say a thing, he just rested his cheekbone on the elbows he had crossed over his knees and stared down the hallway the opposite way. So Jay reached out and squeezed his shoulder, giving it a good rub.

"Just leave me alone," Eth garbled through his still snot-crackled lungs.

"Nah …" he said. "Erin's pretty worried about you. So I think I'll just sit here for a while."

"She's so worried, she can come and I can tell her to leave me alone too," Eth mumbled.

Jay let out an amused sound at that and gave the kid's shoulder a little shake before he let his arm drop back down.

"Well, I kinda thought maybe she should stay there and I should come lookin' for ya, in case your name got pulled. Wouldn't want to miss out on that, would ya?"

"I don't care," Ethan mumbled again.

"Sure you do," Jay said. "I saw how you were drooling over those few baskets. Maybe you'll still win one."

"I DON'T CARE," Eth barked more firmly.

Jay gave a little sigh and gazed at the side of his head.

It'd been a good night. Too bad it had ended up so shitty.

Eth's school was doing some sort of glow-in-the-dark Easter Egg hunt with a basket raffle and silent auction following it. It basically was a fundraising money grab with a small charity component to it and a whole lot of commercialism injected into it. But Jay got how private schools were – and the hypocrisy of Catholicism – he'd lived it. He hadn't exactly had an interest in going but Eth had been buggin' and buggin' and buggin' about it.

Voight had had beyond zero interest in attending – which Jay also understood. But it'd meant that – as usual – that kind of crap ended up falling on Erin. And, then basically if he wanted to be the supportive boyfriend and finance … and basically spend time with her, he pretty much had to suck it up and go too. So he had.

As much as he thought the event would suck – especially with the fucking ticket price to participate in this fucking egg hunt, which was pretty much fucking mandatory if you wanted to participate in the raffle or silent auction or any of the prizes – it hadn't. The egg hunt had been a lot of fun.

He thought he and Erin had pretty much planned to stand on the sidelines and just wait things out until they could get out of there. But it'd been pretty clear with how things were set up that if they didn't participate with Eth that the poor kid was going to miss the mad scramble and come out of the thing with no eggs – and hence no raffle tickets, which where the commodity, if he was going to take away any of the prizes that the school had been pushing at the kids fucking all week. So they'd coughed up the cash too to participate in the thing – even though Jay had given the woman at the little registration booth some flak about what part of this money was going to the school versus what money was ending up with local charities and families in need. Not that he thought the school funding their operating costs was a bad thing. It was just that St. Ignatius kind of reeked of money – like pretty much any private school. And it was fucking Easter and it was a Catholic school. Shouldn't this all be about good will toward man or some bullshit and not lining the school's coffers to get fucking SmartBoards in classrooms and iPads in the hands of rich kids who already had parents who could afford them on their own. But at least it didn't sound like any of the money was going to the church or some bullshit missionary work brainwashing. He would've bristled even more at that.

It was a good thing they'd bought the tickets to participate because the group of Robotics kids that Eth was trying to mingle with before the thing had basically taken off like a shot as soon as the rope got dropped. They weren't going to wait for the cripple kid to keep up with them and miss scooping up mass amounts of the eggs. Jay was pretty convinced if him and Erin weren't helping Eth, he probably wouldn't have even filled his bucket.

Poor Eth had still tried to keep up with the kids, though. He hadn't been able to even though the kid was getting pretty good at the whole flinging his body forward to propel himself with the crutches thing. So they'd stopped him and devised a different plan. Rather than going after the blanket of eggs across the football field – which was pretty much pure pandemonium, they'd branched off to search around some of the buildings and courtyards around the campus with their flashlights and headlamps.

It'd been pretty amusing just as it was. Him and Erin showed off some of their mad flashlight skills. Gave Eth some of the cop training he wanted on proper flashlight technique, which he insisted on using even though with the crutches and the basket and the egg hunting – it definitely would've been easier for the kid if he'd just licked on the camping lamp that Voight had gone and dug out of somewhere and strapped to Eth's head before they left the house. But Eth wasn't really one to take the easy route and you had to give the kid some respect for that.

Beyond that it'd been pretty fun to sneak up on Erin and scare the shit out of her – even if it'd resulted in her hitting him slightly harder than in a friendly way. There was something to be said about goofy faces under flashlights too. Flashlight and ghost-story faces looked pretty good on Erin. Though, he'd give Eth the prize on contorting his face to pull off the spooky demon look. And not just because the kid was pretty much missing an ear and had all those marks down the side of his face. It was weird. He'd been around the kid long enough at this point that a lot of the time he didn't even notice that Eth had those scars. They were just a part of him. Not invisible – but not the first thing he noticed. Shouldn't be the first thing anyone noticed about him.

Jay had gotten into some minor shit with Erin when he'd decided to open one of the glowing eggs. Some poor volunteer had been tasked with stuffing glow sticks into them. You weren't supposed to be opening the eggs until the end when everyone was back in the atrium. But that was kind of bullshit. You could kind of tell what was in the eggs based on the size and weight of them – and if they were glowing. It wasn't like there was a huge variety of items in them. It was either going to raffle tickets to use inside, chocolate or the glow-sticks or some other equally lame knick-knack toy. They could kinda give a shit about the chocolate. Eth couldn't eat the stuff so there wasn't much point in keeping the ones that were obviously candy. They'd kept a few just in case – because Eth thought that they might be trying to trick them or something. Jay really didn't think the fundraiser was quite that sophisticated or vindictive but whatever. Considering they could only fill their pails with what fit in there – not hands, no pockets, no arm full – he didn't see the point in wasting the space with maybes. But Eth's night-out – let him conduct the strategy. Sorta.

Jay had still decided he wanted the glow-stick then. Because what kind of good was a fucking glow stick after they got back inside? That was fucking lame. Get those fuckers out now. Who doesn't want to play with glow-sticks? That shit was awesome. Or at least you got to let down your walls and let stuff like that be momentarily awesome again when you had a finance who had a baby brother. As much as Eth was a pain in the ass and put a cramp in their style sometimes – and sort of crashed their private time more than Jay wanted to think about – there were definite bonuses to having him around. Because fuck their lives were too fucking serious to be so fucking serious all the time.

So he'd broken the rule. He was sure other people were likely breaking rules. Catholics were good at that. Could always go to confession and admit to pocketing the raffle tickets and leaving the empty plastic eggs all over the place so they could fit more in their pail. It wasn't like the grounds were being policed that well. Sure, volunteers and staff were around. Technically it was a family event and a lot of parents were taking part. But reality was that the middle school kids and high school kids that had bothered to come out were off running amok mostly on their own. That age – they'd find ways to bend the rules. Because they thought the rules just didn't apply to them. Even better when they could do it under the cover of blackness.

So fuck it. He cracked the egg. And had been waving that fucker around. Erin was giving him a look like he'd gone stupid on her. So he'd decided to cheer her up be giving her a glow-stick necklace. Not a euphemism. But somewhere in the process the fucking thing had gotten a minor crack somewhere in it and the chemical compound leaked out – all over her shirt, neck and his hands … and then her hands when she freaked out and was trying to clean the shit off her and only managed to spread it around even more.

"You are buying me a new shirt," she'd muttered at him.

It had sort of looked like he'd probably be buying Eth a new shirt too. Because the kid had kinda monkey-see-monkey-do'ed and cracked open some of the glow stick eggs too. Seemed like the school hadn't really invested in high quality glow-sticks – if such a thing existed. Because Eth had gotten the chemical shit all over him too, which had then got Erin mumbling at him about "if he has a reaction to this, you get to explain it to Hank."

Whatever. Eth whole body was so sensitive that the kid always had fucking rashes or ulcers somewhere it seemed. Voight likely wouldn't think anything of it. Though, he might notice his kid glowing when they got him home. And if that shit got thrown in the laundry with other stuff and spread rather than wash away – that might be an issue. Voight would probably lose his shit over that. Though, it might be almost momentarily funny if it ended up on some of the Sarge's laundry and the guy was glowing on their next night-time raid. Totally Hulk it. Any fucking dirtbags they pulled in and let Voight at in the cage would really fucking wonder what they'd gotten themselves into.

But the reality was over away from the crowds, it was quieter at the start (until the kids had cleared the haul over on the field and people started to search for the harder to find eggs). But it'd meant that they had the time and the space to goof off a bit. To play with glow-sticks. To fuck around with the flashlights. To go all Mission Impossible. To just have fun. It was nice. Jay liked when he got moments like that with Erin. And with Eth. It weirdly made him feel more normal. Like he was part of a family. Had more going on in his life than work. He needed that reality check – that fucking mental break – sometimes.

And as quiet as it was over there, it was definitely more challenging. But Jay was pretty sure that their search had paid off. Actually looking for the eggs was likely more fun than just having a fucking mud wrestling match on the football field over the things. And they'd found some of the bigger eggs that had more than a single raffle ticket in them. And they'd even found one of the golden eggs that would let Eth go and pick something out from up on the prize table on the center stage at the end of the night – if he decided he was going to go back in. But that wasn't looking so good at the moment.

The problem was that families had been asked to donate stuffed baskets for this fundraiser. And even though Voight clearly had no interest in participating in the event – he'd obliged to letting Eth put together a basket to take in. Erin had muttered something about even bursary families being expected to make a certain "commitment" to the school annual – whether by money, donations, volunteer hours, etc. She'd simply added that it wasn't a small amount that was expected out of the parents. Jay didn't really want to know how much it was. He could hazard a guess, though. He figured Voight was probably the kind of guy to just hand the school a pile of bills in one go – that they likely didn't want to ask too many questions about where it came from. But Erin had indicated that his wife had likely made him resign to the fact that sometimes he needed to make it seem like he wanted to be part of the school community. Which Jay didn't think was anything he actually wanted. But it was likely something he was doing for Eth. Or at least to keep Eth in good graces at the school for whoever's arm he'd twisted (or broken) to get the kid on the Robotics team. Because Jay was pretty sure whoever that was hadn't been given much of a choice in the matter.

Mouse sure hadn't. Though, Jay also didn't think that had necessarily worked out as a bad thing. It seemed like Mouse was leaving his hole to go more places than work anymore. And like he'd even learned how to almost talk to women again. There was a pretty little grade school teacher that he seemed to be a little smitten with. He'd even brought her to Molly's once and formed real human sentences with more people than just him. Hell, he'd even come into Molly's on his own a few times. And apparently he'd shown up times when he knew Jay wouldn't be there too and managed a drink and conversation on his own. So that was real fucking progress. Not to mention, he'd fucking lead the coding nerds in the Robotics Team to some sort of killer bot scheme that had them dominate the season and breeze into States with all sorts of speculation and buzz that the kids were going to just vault into Regionals and likely Nationals. The word "Worlds" had even been hushly muttered, though Mouse wasn't much for planes. He'd jumped out of enough that he didn't even feel the need to get on one anymore. But a trip to Berlin? C'mon. If that became a reality, he couldn't pass that up.

So Voight had handed Eth some cash to participate in this basket thing. Or part of the cash. Basically he'd said he'd match whatever Eth was willing to put up. Or Eth had to match whatever he put up. Or some shit. Voight's whole like money and budgeting thing with the kid was fucking insane. But, fuck, for a kid Eth's age, did he ever get money and budgeting – even if he had to pull out a calculator to figure out some of it. Still.

Thing was, though, that the project had been left to Eth. Likely a good lesson. Budgeting. Buying for others. Packaging, crafty crap. Technically, he was supposed to be thinking about educational stuff, according to the letter from the school about what sort of baskets should be brought in. But, let's just say that the kind of basket a twelve-year-old boy – who's Ethan – puts together is slightly different than say the 40-something Stay-At-Home mom who takes over the project or the power-suit richie who hires some like whacky basket designer to put together the thing or just clicks and orders it online, having it delivered to the school, without ever actually touching or seeing the thing.

So Eth had been pretty predictable Eth. Somehow it'd been Erin who got regulated the role of taking Eth on this basket shopping outing. Shocking. And as much as watching the Hawks sounded like a better way to spend the night – he'd gone along too. As usual. They'd both talked through ideas with him. Different options they could stuff into this thing. Different themes. Just how to spend that fifty bucks. If it was better to get one or two quality items or if he should go for random amounts of crap to jam that fucker to the brims.

Of course, even though they'd floated lots of ideas in the science realm and the math realm and the reading realm and the arts and crafts supplies realm and the boring old lady baking supplies and stay-at-home mom can't afford the spa (only she likely can since her kids are in private school and she's not working to pay for it) so give her cheap smelly shit and grumpy old man grilling supplies realm. Even had touched on like the Norman Rockwell shit – fucking movie night basket or or family game night basket or s'more making basket or ice cream sundaes fixins or cupcake making basket. Real quality family time shit that supposedly people actually did.

But – no – it was Ethan. So even though he'd briefly considered a baseball – namely Cubs – basket, he'd ultimately settled on a dinosaur basket. Because what else would he pick? They hadn't argued with him about it. Why bother?

Jay had figured they'd likely hit up some dollar store and let him go to town. Fifty bucks of plastic dinosaurs or hatching eggs or erasers or something. But Eth had other plans. Went over to this educational toy store that Jay hadn't even heard of – but apparently it was about the only toy store that the kid's mom had ever taken him. And the kid had done real fucking good in picking out items for a real thoughtful basket. Looked at prices and sales. Had his phone out figuring out how far the cash was going to go. Thinking about if it fit the whole "educational", "faith" or "family" oriented mandate that the school had ordered for the things.

Jay had been impressed. The kid had come away with what even Jay thought was a pretty fucking cool put-together model of a T-rex fossil. The thing was apparently like 30-inches long after you got it put together and the box was epically huge. And it was on the clearance shelf for like twenty bucks. A definite score. Kid had found the "lunch box" kit of the stupid dinosaur trading cards he collected too. Set included a a couple packs of cards, a couple plastic dinosaurs, a little puzzle and a poster – all in a "collector" metal lunch box too. Rounded that out with some sort of "field guide" book from the Jurassic Park movie that Eth kept muttering about how much he wanted it despite that kid already owning more dinosaur books than he could even read. They did finish it all off with a quick trip to the dollar store – as initially anticipated. He picked up the requisite fossil dig dust mess and hatch and grow (it ain't going to and it ain't going to look like a) dinosaur along with a sheet of stickers and some activity coloring book ("in case a little kid gets it", he claimed.).

Jay thought it was a pretty fucking decent haul for a basket for the auction with some pretty decent shit in it. Like really – he thought for sure that fossil model would definitely catch a few eyes. Sure, they hadn't done that great on the whole presentation aspect of the thing. They weren't Sally Homemakers. Erin barely knew how to keep her bathroom clean – like she knew how to put together a gift basket. So they'd basically picked a plastic bin at the dollar store, dropped the stuff in it and wrapped some plastic around it. But fuck the presentation – it was about what was inside it, not what it looked like. And really it should've been about what Eth looked like – and you could tell he was fucking proud of the thing. Jay figured he actually might want to keep about 90 per cent of what was in it for himself. And that was priceless.

Thing was, though, it was clear that a lot of the other baskets on display were priceless too. In the sense that money had been no object in the making of the baskets. Jay wasn't sure if some of the families had more than one kid at the school so they'd pooled the suggested max. amount (which is what Voight had conceded to – and thank fucking god he had or else this might be worse than it was) to be spent on the thing – suddenly making like a $100 or $150 or $200 basket a possibility. Though, he thought the more likely scenario was that some parents just hadn't given a fuck about the suggestion or the price and had put whatever they wanted – or their kids wanted or their personal basket designer wanted – in the damn things.

So as kick-ass as they all had thought Eth's basket was when they were putting it together – it was definitely one of the least showy ones in the room. It wasn't like it was alone in its modesty. There were others about on his level. And there were families who'd definitely spent less or at least gone smaller – but their smaller was like putting a $50 gift card in a basket. So yeah – it might not look that exciting visually but there were going to be people pretty psyched about putting their raffle tickets in that draw.

Other thing was that apparently some families had taken a bit of a broad interpretation as to what "educational", "faith" or "family" oriented meant. Because Jay had seen a whole lot of Minecraft and Skylander and Ninja Turtles and zombie and Star Wars and pink girlie toy shit that he didn't really know how any of that fit into any of those categories. Even the fucking Lego basket and the one with tickets to a FUCKING BULLS GAME – as cool as they were – he wasn't sure he really bought they were any of the mandated categories either.

So basically – they'd played by the rules – and it had kind of bit them in the ass.

Jay still didn't think it would be a big deal. Not until they were browsing through the baskets and trading in their tickets from the eggs for the various raffle boxes. Thing was you had to make choices. Like the basket with the Bulls game tickets – you needed to hand in 10 – TEN – of your tickets from the eggs to get your name in once. That ate up a whole lot of tickets. Really if people were playing fair, their baskets out in the egg hunt shouldn't have held more than maybe three-dozen eggs, if you took the time to sort of stack them and organize them and carefully walk them into the school without any falling out before you got to the counting desk – and you'd actually claimed all raffle tickets and hadn't gotten stuck with a boat load of waxy chocolate and shitty glow-sticks that were fucking useless now that you were indoors. So if you wanted to try for the Bulls game – really, you were only going to get your name in there maybe three times. Though, Jay suspected a lot of people in this gym didn't need to be winning tickets in some raffle. They could buy last minute tickets courtside – or just have them handed to them for free from their other power-suit friends.

Still, it set the kind of visible precedent. It became increasingly apparently that – yeah, people were shopping around and looking at all the baskets on display – but that the ones that were getting the most attention were the ones where you were turning in a bunch of your eggs to get your name in the raffle once. And they were doing the same thing. Jay had handed over ten to try to get out to a Bulls game that season. Because that'd be sweet. He would've preferred a Hawks game – but take what you can get. Even though he sort of realized he was throwing away ten eggs and would have shit to show for it. But that's how this sort of thing went. Charity and fundraiser. Getting a prize out of it would just be a nice bonus – not something necessary. Though, you kinda had to wonder about things when clearly that basket was worth easily about five-hundred bucks. They'd paid $25 each to get in and then Voight had subsidized the family's $50 basket. A decent sum of cash – nice donation – for the Voight household. But a whole lot less than $500 – and that $500, you'd think it likely could go a whole lot farther if it'd been donated directly to the school or one of the charities that would be getting cash at the end of the fundraiser. But he supposed those tickets likely hadn't even been "real" to begin with. Likely were some bigwigs who got to go to whatever game he wanted or any team he wanted whenever he wanted – without ever paying a cent. It was a "donation" but not one that had any monetary value for him. Jay wondered if that asshole still had some set-up where he his big shot criminal accountant would still be able to figure out a way for him to write it off anyways. Because that was the reality of how this shit really worked.

It'd sort of been at that realization that he started looking over at Eth's basket more as they walked around the display. Their honest price point had the kid's efforts ranked at two tickets to get your name in to the raffle. Jay actually thought that might've been a bit of a disadvantage. Because clearly it was the bigger ticket items that people were trading in most of their eggs for.

Hell, even Eth was doing it. He was way too interested in the fucking Minecraft basket and all the Robotics nerds were drooling over some "robot" themed one that looked like it had a whole lot of nerd shit in it. Both of them were taking five raffle eggs to enter. Jay didn't know too much about either of those things but based on his estimate on the Bulls basket – he figured it meant that the two Eth was taken with were easily worth at least 2 C-notes.

Thing was it meant that after people ran out of their tickets to put their name into the draws they wanted, they'd then wander over to the "cheaper" baskets and finish off over on that side of the room. It looked like a whole lot of people were just going around and dropping their last handful of tickets in the onesie aisle, though. Some of them were going one-offs on the hopes of winning something. Others were turning in their remaining eggs for multiple tickets to put all in the same basket to up their odds. But it in essence meant that a whole lot of people were skipping out on looking at the mid-range row. Didn't even check it out before hitting up the big ticket row and then heading over to the one-for aisle. And if they did wander it – they didn't have enough tickets at that point to manage getting their name in the draw.

Jay knew Eth hadn't really noticed. He'd been over in the big ticket aisle and hanging with the RoboKids in front of the Robo Basket for most of the bidding period. But Erin had noticed too and they'd stood their debating about whether they should go and put their own names in the draw. Jay had argued they shouldn't. If their names did get pulled – it'd likely embarrassed Eth. And, really, they hadn't been watching Eth's basket the whole time. He figured their had to be some parent there with some kid just as nuts about dinosaurs as Eth who would've put their name in the draw.

But he'd been wrong. And when they'd gotten to Eth's basket to pull a name there hadn't been any name to pull. Eth's excitement about getting to see who won it – getting to share that joy and effort and allowance money he'd put into it to raise money for "charity" and his school – had washed out of his face so quickly. Kid had gone even paler than he was on any given day only to flush with embarrassment when it'd been announced that the basket was being put over on the silent auction table for while people were leaving – with a starting bid of $25. Less than the fucking thing was worth and no where near matching the amount of enthusiasms and care the kid had put into crafting the thing.

Erin had tried to offer him some comfort – her usual babying of him. Over-protection and tenderness that Jay definitely saw Eth starting to push against either because of his experience at the school or with the older kids in the Robo team or because he was like three months from officially being a teenager and right on schedule for attitude overload. But Eth had no time for babying. Not then. Not in front of other kids. And he'd taken off as fast as he could with Erin standing there clearly trying to figure out how to not make a scene but to try to resolve the situation in some way.

So Jay had given him a minute and then followed. He hadn't been too hard to find. Eth could really only move so far, so fast. So he'd caught up and sat down. Not acknowledging the kid's tears because that'd just upset him more. And really – he had a right to be hurt.

"You know, Eth, yours wasn't the only basket that didn't get any tickets," he told him. "And I bet some of the ones that didn't get too much attention during the raffle are going to bring in a windfall in the silent auction."

"They put it as $25," Eth muttered. "I spent $50."

Jay gave him a little shrug. "Twenty-five is just the starting price. Might end up going for a lot more than that. Maybe even way more than fifty too. You've got some pretty cool shit in there."

"No, I don't," he spat against his arm, "or else someone would've wanted it."

Jay let out a sigh. "I think people were just all distracted by the splashy ones, Bud. We were too."

"No," Ethan pressed again. "I put tickets in the comic book one and it was only one ticket! Mine was two! It was better than the one ticket ones."

"Yea, I think that's what a lot of people were doing, Eth. Splashy and one-fers."

Ethan rubbed his face against his arm more. "The big ones are unfair. That one had a PlayStation in it. That costs way more than fifty dollars. They said maximum fifty dollars."

"I know, Kid," Jay agreed. "But I don't know. Maybe if there's brothers and sisters going here they pooled the amount that was allowed per basket."

"Or they're all rich," Ethan hissed into his sleeve.

"Yea …" Jay nodded. "There's likely a lot of that going on too."

"It sucks," he muttered. "They're all going to go away on their spring break at Aspen or the beach or Italy and brag about it too. And brag about everything always."

Jay eyed him. "Well, you get to go to States over your spring break."

Ethan cast him a dirty look. "IT'S IN CHICAGO! I live here!"

Jay shrugged. "Yea, but it's at the university. And you'll be doing cool shit. There's that party and social thing. That could be … fun …"

From the way Mouse had described it, it actually sounded like the antithesis for fun. But Eth seemed pretty dedicated to trying to fit in with the Robo nerds. Jay wasn't sure how well that was going out. Eth was definitely a nerd – and definitely skilled at some of this robotics and coding and circuitry shit. But if he was syncing up with the kids in the group at Iggy's? That was a whole different story.

"They're all going to get their big fancy Easter baskets at home and brag about it too," Ethan sighed and wiped his face more.

"Yea, well, I'm not religious expert – but I'm pretty sure I put in enough time at Catholic school too that I know that it's not about presents."

"But I have to listen to it," Ethan protested. "And they don't even need the baskets they're all fighting over in there."

Jay shrugged. "Not really," he agreed and then gave his shoulder a little squeeze.

"My basket didn't raise any money for charity even," Eth said quietly. "Not even a dollar."

Jay let out a little sigh. "Eth, that's not how it works, OK? I know they sort of made it sound like that. But they know how many eggs they put out, right? So they're matching the number of eggs no matter what. So it's not that your basket didn't make money. The donation is based on the overall eggs. The rest if just optics. Bragging rights."

"So – again – mine sucked ass and no one liked it," he said.

"I liked it," Jay said. "I actually thought it was pretty awesome. And I'm more than willing to kick around here through the silent auction and fight for the thing so you can take it home tonight and we can break open that model tomorrow. Because that would look killer in your room."

Eth glanced at him with sad glassy eyes but shook his head. Jay reached and gripped at his bicep again.

"Eth, I know that your dad and your sister are real proud of how you managed the money and thought about others and even wanted to come tonight to contribute to the fundraiser. That means a lot. It's more than some people," he assured. "And, trust me, I get how much it can suck trying to fit into the whole private school scene. I've been there. I get it. And so has Erin. But, you know, I think your dad is teaching you good things too about living within your means. It's something I wish my dad had done. That he hadn't made us live some illusion to try to make it seem like we 'belonged' at some fucking private school. There's something to be said about being who you are – both what you like and what your income is. Not making apologies for any of that. Be you."

"No one likes me," Eth said.

Jay squeezed his arm tighter. "I do," he told him quietly. "And your sister and your dad – they more than fucking like you. They love you."

"Sometimes I just want to disappear," Eth near whispered.

Jay wrapped his arm around the kid at that and gripped his opposite shoulder tightly. "Yea," he nodded quietly. "I felt like that a lot during my time in private school too. Even tried to disappear in a lot of ways. But it never really worked that well."

"What did work?" Eth asked.

Jay let out a long sigh and shrugged. "You know, Eth, not going to lie – don't really know that anything worked too well for me. But I know that I'm still here. And I know you're doing way better than I ever did at your age in this kind of situation. And you're trying way harder. So I think you're going to do OK. So you don't need to be thinking about how to disappear. You've got way too much to share to disappear from this school. And eventually some of the other kids are going to see that too."

"Well, then … I still want to disappear tonight," Ethan muttered. "I want to go home."

Jay shook his head. "No way, Little Man," he said. "Because you don't have anything to be ashamed of or any reason to be out here hiding and crying. But back in there …" he said pointing his arm back down the hall, "you've still got your name in some raffles and we've still got a golden egg that I really want to get to crack open and see what we get off the prize table."

Ethan glanced at him. "There was a gift card for laser tag."

"And the movies," Jay put to him. "Aquarium tickets."

"And a Bible," Ethan said drily.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure it was blessed by the Archbishop or Pope or something," Jay said. "Big ticket item right to the Pearly Gates."

Eth eyed him like he clearly still wouldn't be grabbing that prize when he got up to the table.

But Jay just pushed himself back up off the ground and held up a hand to help the kid get back up.

"C'mon Pony Boy, let's go stay gold," he said. Ethan gave him a funny look – like he'd gone stupid – but grabbed hold of his forearm for the hoist to his feet. He'd take stupid – because he really hoped that Eth was able to stay gold for a good long time – against all the odds put in front of him.


	71. Basket Cases

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 52 - GOLDEN CHILD. It is set at Easter, so the end of March.**

Hank looked up from his black coffee and paper as Ethan came into the dining room. It wasn't his usual spot. He usually liked the morning sun at his spot in the kitchen. Dining room always seemed a little formal for breakfast – or for any meal where it was just him and Magoo. Besides, he liked the comforted – the routine – of still sitting in the same spot that he and Camille would take up silent space for their morning coffees. But he'd been waiting for E to appear that morning and taking up silent space in the dining room seemed like the best place to catch him before he got too far.

He'd let the kid sleep in. He was doing it more anymore on the weekends. Or at least on Sundays. The kid was still getting up at school rising hours on Saturdays right now to participate in his Robotics Team build days and matches. They might just be at the end of that, though. If the kids didn't make a good showing at States that week, their season would be over. Word was that they'd likely make it through States easy and be on to Regionals and very likely Nationals. But Hank didn't much like counting chickens before they hatched. And he didn't much know what he was looking at when he did go out to his son's matches. Though he'd learned enough to at least tell when they were scoring – and these two little metallic beasts the Techie kids had created definitely did a whole lot of that.

What he did know was that in addition to E having apparently really shone on the Design Team, he'd gone on to fall under Mouse's guidance in the programming and coding department and taken a real liking to that. Seemed like he was learning a lot. And he'd contributed enough in all of that, that on match days his boy was a "scout". Whatever the fuck that meant. E told him that he was "basically a spy, Dad. I'm like their Intelligence. So I could pretty much work for you." Alright, Kiddo. From what Hank saw, though, the important thing it meant was that his boy was right on the floor on game days. Right in the pits and up against the walls. Off in some little box away from his team but scooting around his area like a mad man, yelling back intel and orders and getting on some computer set up there, punching in something as he went too. More importantly, it'd gotten his aspirations to go higher: "Next year, I want to be a driver, Dad. Or maybe the Pit Master." Alright, Kiddo. Voight suspected Magoo still had a ways to go before he graduated into any of those positions. But he wanted to. He had a goal. So they'd keep building on that.

Still, all of it meant that Eth was in a pretty perpetual state of exhaustion. There'd been several times over the course of the season that he'd wondered if he should pull the plug on the whole Robotics thing. Tell Magoo he wasn't well enough for it yet. But he likely would've broken the kid's heart – and his spirit – in the process. So he'd just had to make adjustments in his home life and his parenting to try to get his boy through it – because E seemed to take a lot of joy and belonging out of the thing. So one minor adjustment had been to not be on his ass about sleeping the weekend away. He let him stay in bed as long as he wanted on Sunday morning anymore. Though, he'd usually go up and check on him if there hadn't been any movement by about 10. Generally, after he'd gone in there to check the kid was still breathing and wasn't in too much pain or running a fever – E would get moving shortly thereafter. Could tell the kid really was having a rough day if he didn't.

Hank had sort of expected that that Sunday might be a bit of an all-day bed in for E. The Robotics team had been running the kids just ragged with the lead up to States. Eth had been in at school until around 9 p.m. on Monday through Wednesday. That was fucking passed his boy's usual ass-upstairs time, not to mention that even on his good days Magoo started to fade big time by about 7.

Fucking Catholic school meant that rather than go and match up their Spring Break with all the other schools in the fucking city, they had to go and put it at Easter. Just didn't fucking match up that year. Hank had thought that was going to be a royal pain in the ass – especially since they let the kids out on the Thursday giving them a whole week and a half to create chaos. Worse pain in the ass that with the break not matching up with the public schools, there was basically no programming available to send E off to during the day. He'd thought his choices were going to be pretty much trust the kid to kick around the house on his own and call him or Erin if something was wrong – which he only believed would work to a point. E was as stubborn as fuck about actually admitting when his M.S. was giving him shit and he needed helped and as good as kid as he was, he had a way of figuring out how to get into shit if he was left to his own devices for too long. Idle hands and all that crap. Option Two was to send him over to Dawson's boxing gym and instruct him to stay there all day. Which also would only work so well. Eth would annoy the fuck out of the patrons – or he'd get bored and wander off and it wasn't exactly a neighborhood that Hank was super keen on him wandering around in on his own either. And Option Three was to let him kick around District, which his professional standards and protective parental nature hated too. Didn't like his kid around there too much. Him coming in after school for a bit or having to sit around for an hour or so in the morning before having to truck him off to an appointment was one thing – him being there all day, every day for a week and a half was a whole different ball game.

Somewhat thankfully the Robotics Team had eliminated him having to come up with what he was going to do for daycare for his boy. Because they were still having the poor kids run around with prep for States. Had them in on Thursday and on the Friday too. Took breaks for lunch and church – and prayer that he suspected had more to do with placing high in the standings than it did with the Resurrection of Jesus Fucking Christ. But, he wasn't going to put up too much of a fuss about it. Eth wasn't. His boy was all-in and that made him proud. His boy didn't do half-assed. That counted for a whole fucking lot. But even though they'd conceded to giving the kids Easter Sunday off, they were going to be right back at it up until they had to transport their fucking robots to the university Wednesday night. Then they'd just be running the kids silly right up until the closing ceremonies and awards gala on Saturday night. Was gonna be a long week for his boy. Not much of a break. But at least E was excited. Proud of himself. Still, meant Hank was trying to make sure he got some rest that day before he was tossed into the shark tank of States.

E was up earlier than he'd expected. Hadn't slept through. At least that likely meant he was having a decent day. Not too tired. But could also mean he was a bag of nerves about the pending competition. Hopefully it just meant that his body was set into its routine – when it woke up, when he needed his meds, when he needed some food in him. Getting him trained so that he would be able to take care of himself and his health on his own as he got older. Teenager, high school. Getting close to laying more responsibilities on him.

"Morning," Hank rasped at him.

E might be upright but he still didn't look that awake yet. He'd hobbled down the steps without his crutches that morning and was rubbing sleepily at his eyes. So much so that he hadn't seemed to notice Hank sitting there and startled a bit at the greeting.

He squinted at his father likely with some surprise to see him there – not his usual spot. But then Ethan's eyes shifted to what Hank had sitting in the middle of the table and squinted questioningly at him again.

Hank pointed at the little stuffed smiling brontosaur Easter basket that sitting on the table. "Your brother had asked about the Easter basket Nana had made him for Henry. Found that while I was downstairs looking for it. Had forgotten about it."

Ethan's eyes shifted over to the basket again and looked at it a little confused.

"It's yours," Hank provided. "Your mom had bought it for you for your first Easter."

Ethan's eyes moved back to him, his forehead creasing. But Hank just leaned back in his chair and gestured at the basket again.

"Yea," Hank said, thinking back a bit. Had been thinking about it since he spotted the fucking thing a couple weeks ago. "I gave her such a fucking hard time about buying the thing at the time. You know how I feel about spending money on stupid shit. What's a ten-month-old baby need an Easter basket for?"

Ethan just gave him a cautious look and Hank gestured at the chair across from him. The kid looked interested in moving forward but hesitated again – like he was going to get the shit he'd given poor Camille all those years ago cast on him. But then he inched forward, straining his neck a bit to try to see inside the container.

Voight shook his head. "Don't get too excited," he said and reached to spin it around so his boy could see that his mom had paid to get the thing embroidered with his name too – but pushed it closer to the chair he was sitting in so he could also see it was empty. The actual basket was so small, really couldn't fit more than a bunny and a couple eggs in it anyway. But Hank also sort of thought that that was actually about the size a basket should be.

E looked a little disappointed at the discovery that it didn't have any content in it, but still reached out as he got himself seated and pulled it closer to look at – putting his fingers on the yellow threads spelling out 'Ethan' and smiling softly at the goofy looking dinosaur.

"Been thinking about that thing, though," Hank told him, watching his boy stare at the distant memory of his mother that he likely couldn't even recall if he wanted too. "Ten months old, Magoo, and already all about the dinosaurs," he snorted and shook his head as his son cast him a look. "She didn't have anything in it that first Easter either. But she put out all these plastic eggs in the living room. Don't think we had anything in them even. Maybe Cheerios." He shook his head again and looked at the wall. "You know, some doctor's likely said you aren't supposed to feed kids Cheerios anymore too now." Some of this shit about raising babies and taking care of kids and just how they grew up anymore. It was beyond him. Wasn't how he'd grown up. Wasn't how Justin or Erin had grown up. E was growing up in a different world. Different way. And little H. Might as well be science fiction some days. Different times.

But he looked back to E and gave him a thin smile and gestured off into the living room. "Told you they were dinosaur eggs and you were just running around in there grabbing them. Likely got video of that somewhere." And they really likely did. He should look for it. Thing was that looking for it would likely mean going through a lot of other stuff to find it and sometimes when he did that, he just ended up crawling into a black hole. He'd gone down enough of one digging out the basket for Justin and then finding this stupid thing of Magoo's.

"Babies don't walk," Ethan provided, staring into the stuffed basket's big dazed-looking eyes.

"Oh, you walked," Hank told him directly, giving him a little nod. "You barely crawled, Magoo. Skipped right over it almost. You wanted to be on the move. Had us chasing after you by the time you were about nine months."

His youngest had done pretty much everything early. Arrived early, early walking, early talking, early reading, potty-trained quick for a boy. All of it. Hank didn't know if it was just E – always the stubborn little fucker - or if it'd been having a brother and sister so much older around that he was bound and determined to keep up with. Funny that he'd done so much early and now he was one of the slower ones in the pack. Always a little behind. Likely always would be. But still a stubborn little fucker.

Hank drummed his fingers on the table. "Erin said you'd been asking if Easter is a thing."

Ethan cast him a bit of an accusing look that was likely meant for Erin and her disclosure. "I know it's a thing. A church thing," he muttered.

"Mmm …", Hank grunted and took a sip of his coffee. "Yea, guess school has proved that point to you."

"But we aren't going to church today," Ethan muttered.

Hank shrugged. "We aren't really religious."

His boy looked at him. "Then why make us go to St. Ignatius? It's lots of church and God talk."

Hank made an amused sound at that. "Some God talk isn't going to hurt you and Ignatius is a good school. You're getting a good education."

Magoo looked at him a moment longer but then just shrugged and looked back to the basket. "So we don't believe in God?"

Hank took a longer glug of his coffee at that. "Do you believe in God?"

Ethan shrugged. "I don't know. Some of it seems kinda stupid."

"Yea …" Hank agreed.

"So you don't believe?" Ethan asked, bringing his eyes back to him.

"Mmm …," Voight considered how to answer that. "Don't know I believe in God quite the way they teach you about God at Ignatius. Seen enough in this life that it's hard to believe that that kind of God exists. But also seen enough in this life to know sometimes life doesn't make a whole lot of sense and there's not always a way to explain things."

"Fate," Ethan said flatly.

"Don't much believe in that either," Hank said. "We make our own choices. Our choices affect other people. It's not fate. It's all choices."

"But not always," Ethan said – but it sounded more like it was asked.

Hank shrugged. "Sometimes things not easily explained by people's choices happen. And I don't think it's just fate or happenstance."

"So it's God?"

"Hmm …" he shrugged again. "Like I said, don't much believe in God."

"Then why do you make us go to St. Iggy's?" E pressed again.

"Because you're getting a good education," Hank put back to him again a bit more firmly. "And because your mom was a bit more of a believer about some of this stuff than me. And you're her kid too. And she was a scientist. So if she can know all that science and still think there might be something to all this God stuff – than I can respect that. Smart lady and I respected her thoughts and opinions a lot."

"But not her basket choices," Ethan provided drily.

Hank smiled a bit at that and reached to pull the basket back to him a bit, looking at it.

"Think I like it a bit more now," he said. "And there's some irony to it. Not sure how the religious types would feel about a dinosaur Easter basket."

"Because some of them don't believe in dinosaurs," Ethan said flatly. "How can you not believe in dinosaurs?"

"Mmm …," Hank nodded. "Some people put their faith and belief into weird things." He scrubbed at his face a bit. "Erin said that you don't really remember us doin' anything for Easter?"

Ethan shrugged at him. Hank just eyed him for a moment. Magoo didn't usually admit to him that he couldn't remember things from his past. Maybe he didn't hide as well as he thought how much it bothered him that the brain damage had taken that from him. That his boy had so many blanks from his childhood. But he tried to delude himself in thinking that most of it was just because E had been a little boy. How much could anyone really recount from their early childhood? But he knew that it was different with Eth. And that there were times it was frustrating for him too. Frustrating to know that other people remembered things he didn't. Or were sharing stories about something he thought he should be able to recall. That a lot of things about his mother were just pictures or stories – shadows – not real solid memories about the woman who loved him and wanted him so much.

But Hank just grunted some acknowledgement at that. Because he didn't really want to think about any of it too much either. It made him sad and mad and frustrated too. None of that he really wanted to project back onto his son. He did his best to shelter him from that – most of the time.

"We did some things at Easter," he told Ethan. He wasn't sure E wanted to hear it but he also felt it was important to give his son these stories. To let him file them away as much as he could or wanted to. So he had some foundation to draw on. Some history. And maybe it was good for him too. A lot of the time he didn't much like to be talking about Camille. It was still too hard. But having Eth in his life forced him too. And as much as he didn't like admitting it, that was something he needed too. A reason. An excuse. An outlet. "Didn't make a big production of it."

He gazed at his boy who was avoiding eye contact with him. E was gazing at that basket. A little sadly. A little longingly.

"Kids at school were talking about it," Ethan offered quietly. "Especially after the fundraiser."

"Mmm…" Hank acknowledged.

E gave him a glance. "They said they were asking for things or they'd get things at Easter. Like Christmas."

"Mmm," Hank grunted with some mild disgust and gestured dismissively while retrieving his mug again. "I don't know when or how Easter turned into all that. It's a religious holiday."

"So's Christmas," Ethan said.

"Fair enough," Hank allowed but looked at the little dinosaur basket too. He reached and tilted it up at E to show him the small space inside, though. "But, see, that's about the right size of a basket. When your brother was growing up – chocolate rabbit, a couple eggs, a bottle of bubbles. Something to get him outside. More than enough. When him and your sister were older I think maybe we got them a CD or a movie a couple times. Got Justin a basketball one year…"

"A kite," Ethan blurted at him. Hank watched how big his eyes had got. "One year there was a kite? I think that was Easter?"

Hank gave him a thin smile. "Yea," he nodded. "That's right."

"And we went and flew it," he said more firmly at the small glimpse of a memory he seemed to be having.

"Yea," Hank allowed. "We did."

"That was fun," Ethan said and reached to pull the basket toward him again to look at its insides like a kite might suddenly appear there.

"Mmm," Hank allowed as he took another sip of his coffee. "Might've been fun for you. Your brother and sister didn't think so. Bitched and moaned all afternoon."

He was actually pretty sure that Erin hadn't graced them with her presence that long. She would've been in her twenties. Out on her own. Still participating in family life but doing it more on her own terms. Justin had been a sulking brat. Likely about fifteen or sixteen. Too cool to be spending time with his family on a holiday Sunday and way too big for his breeches at that point. Giving them a bit of a run for their money. Testing bounds and pushing buttons every chance he got and usually hitting all the wrong ones to get all the reactions he wanted – but didn't want the consequences of.

"Always liked that about you, Magoo," Hank said as he put his coffee back on the table. "You've never been much of a complainer."

E gave him a shy smile at that backward compliment and spun the basket around. "What was the kite of?"

Hank pucker at that and shook his head. "Don't remember," he said. "But I do remember your mom would dye all these hardboiled eggs with you kids before Easter. Like three cartons of the things. More than anyone could eat. So it was those eggs – not these junky plastic ones that parents go and put crap in now – that she'd hide around the house for you guys to find. One year you kids didn't find one of them. She forgot where it was. Thing stunk up the whole front room. This whole floor. Before we figured out what the smell was and where it was coming from."

Ethan gave him a thin smile. "Bear would just find it and eat it now."

Hank allowed a small amused noise at that. E was right.

"So it got to the point with this egg decorating, that I told your mom, 'Camille, enough. No one wants to eat three dozen hard boiled eggs. We got to stop it with wasting this food.' So what's she go and do? New family tradition. If it actually was starting to feel like spring by the time Easter rolled around, we'd be going outdoors that day – and we'd be doing a picnic. Sometimes still sitting in a snow pile, mind you, but a picnic. She'd get all the eggs out of your kids' baskets and then make up a picnic lunch for us. Now we're talking everything made out of eggs here. Egg salad sandwiches, deviled eggs, chopped up egg in our salad. So it was a damn good thing we'd be spending the afternoon outside – because you kids, after eating eggs, the stench that came out of your rear ends …"

"Dad…," Ethan groaned at him.

Hank allowed him a kind look, though. "E, you know holidays like this – any of them, all of them – they're about family. Spending time together. They ain't about getting some fancy knew game system or bike or phone or whatever those kids are telling you some fictional bunny is bringing them."

"They know it's their parents who give them the Easter presents, Dad," E said.

Hank rolled his eyes a bit. "That's still not what the holiday is about," he stressed firmly.

"I know …" Ethan said a little disappointedly and gave him a little glance. "But …" he sighed a looked away. "I just have to hear them talk 'bout it. That's all."

"You know, I sent you stuff at Easter while you were at school," Hank provided. "Came up to see you last year." Ethan gave him a shy look – but one there was clearly something behind. He was hiding something. "What?"

"You sent me the baseball bunny, Dad," Ethan said quietly.

Hank thought about it and shrugged. "OK," he allowed. "It was baseball. It was chocolate. Thought you'd get a kick out of it."

E looked at him more seriously. "My roommate saw it and he stole it and he showed it to everyone on the floor."

"So you didn't get the chocolate?" he shrugged, not seeing the big deal but slightly annoyed about the new example of how his kid had been bullied and how it hadn't been brought to his attention or dealt with.

"They said that the bat was the bunny's dick," E said with an angry edge. "And that he had a giant hard-on and looked like he wanted to shove it down someone's throat and then they made me eat it all at once in front of them and called me a 'fag' and a 'queer' and 'gay' the whole time and then all the time after. Especially when I was going to batting practice."

Hank made an annoyed face and let out a slow breath as he shook his head. He fucking hated that school. He wished he'd had more time to look into it before he'd had to send Ethan packing. He wished really scoured the place after he got out – or he just brought his boy home straight away. Fuck it on any tuition money that might've been lost. But sending his boy to that school – and not bringing him home immediately when he got out – had been two of the biggest mistakes of his life.

He leaned forward on the table to really get his kid's eyes firmly. "Ethan, I wish you would've told me about some of this shit when it was happening. You need to tell me this kind of stuff."

"That's complaining," his son said flatly, trying to divert his eyes, which Hank wasn't having any of.

"That," Hank said planting an index finger on the table, "is not complaining. Kids bullying you. Taking advantage of you. That is something the adults in your life are responsible for dealing with."

"You'd say that I need to learn to take care of my own shit and not take shit," Ethan mumbled.

"And I've been telling you since all this has come to light, that when shit like this is going on – you tell me and I will tell you if it's something you deal with on your own or it's something that we all work together to get resolved."

"It was just chocolate," Ethan whispered.

Hank sat back in his chair, shaking his head. "It was not just chocolate. It was a fucking pattern of behavior among those assholes." He scrubbed at his face. "I really hope you aren't keeping shit like this from me or your sister now."

Ethan gave his head a little shake and Hank carefully examined him – weighing the honesty of that assertion. He had to trust it. Had to trust his own instincts and abilities of observation now that he was a daily presence in his son's life again – like he should've been for those two years too.

"They take the other shit I sent you too?" he asked flatly.

Ethan just shrugged at him and Hank rubbed at his face again. He didn't send E much at Easter. Just the usual. The precedent that he felt Camille had established with the other kids. A bit of chocolate, a bit of a top up for his tuck shop tab, a new toothbrush and some sort of little something. Hank thought it had been one of those hatching dinosaurs but that might've been the year before. Might've just been a pack of baseball cards last year. But if the kids were going to take that from him, made him wonder about what else they'd taken from his son – beyond his pride, dignity, and pharmaceuticals.

"They said we must be poor for you not to be spending me a real care package or bringing me home for the weekend," Ethan said.

"We aren't poor," Hank put to him sternly. "We just don't spend our money on stupid shit that you don't need in the first place and is just going to clutter up the house. And you know how I feel about just handing people things."

"People earn things, they don't just get given them in the real world," Ethan muttered the mantra he'd clearly heard more times than he wanted to.

"And we live in the real world, Ethan," Hank said. "Some of the kids you go to school with – they don't live in the same world as us. And that's going to give them their own set of problems as they get older. Self-entitled, spoiled brats are their own kind of stupid. I don't raise stupid kids."

"I know …" Ethan whispered. He sat staring at the table, his heel knocking against the leg of the chair. A silence set between them that Voight wasn't sure what more to say to fill it. But then Magoo asked even more quietly, "So you didn't get me anything this year?"

Hank smacked his lips and sat staring at his boy for a long moment. "Didn't we just talk about holidays being about spending some time with family and not just handing people junk for no reason?"

"Well … isn't the reason Easter …?" Ethan whispered without looking at him still.

"You can't even eat chocolate anymore. Why would I spend my cash on it?" Hank put to him bluntly.

Ethan gave him a sad glance but nodded. "Yeah … I guess …" he agreed.

Hank let him sit like that for a long moment but then gestured into the kitchen. "Go get your bowl of cereal," he said. "You should get some real food into you."

He heard Eth's heel knock against the leg on the chair a couple more times but he hauled himself out of the chair and did his literal trudge toward the kitchen, his foot dragging slightly. He'd only reached the entrance when he'd stopped and looked back at Hank, who lowered his mug from another sip and gave him a look.

"You think you earned any of that?" he put to him flatly.

Ethan tried to hide a small smile and hobbled farther into the kitchen, Hank rising from his chair to follow him over to the little table. E was standing over it smiling a bit more, but Hank just pulled out his usual chair and sat down.

"Put it on," he told his son.

Ethan smiled at him more brightly and lifted the St. Ignatius cap off the table and briefly creased the rim in his palms before pulling it onto his head. Hank reached up and twisted it around for him – wearing it backwards like he'd seen the other kids on the team doing at some of the matches. Letting them show off the Wolf Pack logo rather than the St. Ignatius crest on the front.

Magoo had been wanting the cap but Hank had told him if he wanted the thing, it had to come out of somewhere in his allowance budgeting jars. E had opted into buying the somewhat mandatory team shirt and hoodie but had decided against the optional ball cap. Kid had rather logically come to the conclusion that he had a whole lot of caps already. And he did. More than anyone could wear at one time – and then some. But Hank could tell that he really wanted one. Wanted to fit in on the team.

"Lookin' smart for States," he told his boy simply.

"Thank you," Ethan told him with a quiet sincerity.

Voight just grunted. "You earned it. You've worked real hard. I've seen it. Proud of you."

His son gave him another shy smile at that, so Hank just reached and tapped on the St. Iggy's cinch pack on the table too. E hadn't said anything about them but Hank had also noticed most of the team toting them around with their gear at the matches. So when he'd popped in to pick up the cap, he'd invested in one too. In the very least, his boy could have somewhere to store an extra sweater and his various meds and snacks during the tournament. In a better case scenario, maybe it'd help him feel like he fit in a bit more. And make him look the part a bit too. If that helped his kid's positioning – Hank was willing to try to help accommodate that at that point.

"Think you earned this too," he said. "And maybe what's inside is because it's Easter."

Ethan gave him an even shier and more embarrassed smile but reached and pulled apart the strings and gazed into the bag, reaching and pulling out a box, giving him a questioning look. "Chocolate?" he asked of the big egg.

Hank took it from him and held it up, tapping on the box. "No dairy, no sugar, no gluten, no soy. Had Jerry order it in special for ya."

Ethan's eyes lit up and he took it back, gazing at it. "So I can eat it?"

Hank shrugged. "Yeah. No guarantees on what it's going to taste like." Ethan gazed at the box so expectantly that he thought the kid might be cracking it opening and dining on it rather than the proposed cereal any second. "Ordered in some gum and soda you're supposed to be able to have too."

Ethan's eyes got even bigger and he put down the box and near dove back into the bag. "GUM?!"

"Just one pack and one bottle for now," Hank muttered as his kid dug around. "We'll see what you think of it."

Ethan re-emerged from his search and held up the pack of gum like it was the most coveted item ever. "THANK YOU, DAD!"

Voight just grunted and gestured at the bag. "Think you missed a couple things. You're lucky they took so long to fill your 'scripts at the pharmacy the other day. And apparently I had more money in my pocket than brains in my head."

Ethan glowed at that and pulled out the baseball preview magazine, giving it a quick page through. "The Cubs play this afternoon," he stated. Hank allowed a sound of acknowledgement again.

The kid returned to the bag and pulled out the pack of baseball cards and cast him another smile. Next he pulled out the toothbrush and gave him a questioning look.

"Why do you always give us toothbrushes at Easter?"

He leaned back in his chair a bit. "Hell if I know," he said. "You'll have to ask your mother the next time you see her."

Ethan made a quiet amused sound and looked in the bag again, pulling out the Mystery Model Hot Wheels pack. He looked at Hank excitedly. "Can I open it?" he asked.

He shrugged. "Your car."

Ethan quickly ripped open the top of the bag and tumbled the car and leaflet out of the packaging. The poster got set on the table, though, Hank reached for it to take a look to see what models were out that year. Nearly 25 years of buying the things for his boys. It'd be weird when he didn't have to pick up a few packs anymore. E would likely give up on his collection soon enough. Though, E was a bit more of a hoarder than J ever was. He supposed he could still pick up the things for H, though, Justin might start that tradition for his boy on his own.

"It's a Firebird," Ethan told him after careful examination of it. He held it out to Voight, who did his own cursory glance at it.

"'67," he provided flatly and handed it back to his son.

"I think I already have a Firebird," E said after some consideration. "But I think it was Justin's."

Hank shrugged. "Whatever J didn't claim is yours now."

E gave him a little glance at that. "I like this one better. It's green," he provided. He set down the car and looked back into the bag, pulling out an egg stuffed with Star Wars temporary tattoos. The smile on E's face grew, tugging on his lips with an intensity. Voight knew why. He'd seen the way the kids plastered themselves with the things at the City finals for the Robotics stuff. It was like it was some kind of war paint.

He tapped his finger on the egg. "You share them," he instructed, "and I don't want to see any evidence of any of them having ended up on your face."

"OK," E nodded and gazed into the bag one last time. "No dinosaurs this year?" he said as he pulled out the envelope that was remaining in there.

Voight shrugged. "Shopping was exclusive to the CVS, Kiddo. Apparently they don't do dinosaurs."

"That's OK," he acknowledged, picking at the seal on the envelope. "The magazine is way cooler then a hatching egg anyways."

Hank let out a small noise at that. Amused but also a little sad. That acknowledgement from his son was likely just another sign his kid was growing up and starting to slip away into the teenaged black hole. The day had come when reading material was better than a hatching dinosaur egg. Taken them almost thirteen years to reach that point. There'd been a period where Hank had started to think he'd still be getting his boy the eggs into his teens and beyond.

Eth read the front of the card – slowly, as all reading was with his kid. But eventually he flipped it open and gave Hank another questioning look as twenty bucks slipped out. He barely grabbed it before it tumbled to the floor.

"Double allowance?" Ethan asked, clearly confused.

But Hank shook his head. "Nope," he conceded. "Figured you might want to buy a tshirt or something while you're at States."

E smiled shyly again at that and gave another quiet 'thank you' but then stared at the money for a moment and looked back to him.

"Or maybe we could use it to do Easter like Mom liked?" Ethan suggested and gave him a glance. "With dinosaurs and the park and egg salad?"

Hank gave his boy a little smile at that as he considered him and then leaned forward and tugged at the rim of his new cap. "Think we could manage that too," he allowed.

Because he actually liked that idea a whole lot. He thought Camille would too.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: I posted a chapter last night — Invitation — that was before the 24 hour mark so a lot of readers missed it. Check it out.**

 **Know a lot of people are anxious about the Jay/Erin convo after McFlurry. I'm working on it. Some chapters/scenes take longer to come together than others. It will get done.**

 **Some other chapter/scene ideas that I've added to the list:**

 **Recast of Benson/Erin from the end of the cross-over ep. Set at Hank's house rather than the bar.**

 **Recast of the whole medical marijuana scene/gig from last night's episode with a convo between Erin/Hank with reference to Ethan and Hank.**

 **Jay/Will scene with him talking about having kissed Natalie.**

 **Ethan/Michelle scene set after the whole telling on Holly thing and set in the boxing club.**

 **Mouse/Ethan scene in relation to Robotics and set at States.**

 **Also thinking of doing a Hank/Natalie scene at the hospital with Ethan having another bit of a flare up. Might bring Dr. Charles into it too.**

 **Anyways. As usual any thoughts or suggestions are appreciated. As are feedback and reviews.**


	72. Quickie

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 69 - BASKETCASES.**

"I think I want one," Erin heard Jay said warmly and languidly glanced up from her phone.

She didn't even look down the couch at him, instead her eyes drifted to where Hank had left the plate of paczki on the coffee table. There was still a whole plate there. Minus the one she'd eaten. Jay had declined one at the time. She figured he'd changed his mind – because who could really turn down fresh baked goods right out of one of the ethnic bakeries made special for Easter? Even Jay's holier-than-thou eating habits could only resist that for so long.

"Yea … there's lots," she muttered, leaning off the couch to grab the plate. Trying her best to reach the table without teetering off the precarious edge.

She wondered if Hank realized what an old country grandma he'd become when it came to food at the holidays. He was his mother's son. Eat, eat. But it actually made Erin miss his mother a little bit. Her brief taste of what having a grandmother – who actually cared about and was involved with her family. Easter had seemed like a bigger deal to her than it had in the Voight household. Or at least a good excuse to cook a big meal and have them over for dinner. Something else that had rubbed off on Hank over the years.

But as she managed to get a hold of the plate and shifted to offer it to Jay, she realized it wasn't the pastries he was talking about.

Jay had settled comfortably into the corner of the couch after dinner. Her and Ethan too when Hank had aggressively indicated that he didn't want any help cleaning up. That Eth should be resting up for the week he had ahead. Normally she likely would've argued and tried to be the 'golden child' who still helped put away dinner and wash up the dishes. But the ham and yams and asparagus of the simple but filling Easter dinner that Hank had called them up for last minute, had been filling enough that she was open to settling into the couch in a food coma.

They all had. Jay over in that corner. Her stretching out in the other and Eth initially claiming one of the armchairs. His legs draped over the armrest in a way that Hank always yelled at him about – but that he always did anyways.

They'd watched a movie. Ethan had suggested Hop. Jay had quickly suggested Donnie Darko after he'd realized what the hell Hop was – despite Ethan's claims it was funny. Erin didn't really care what they watched but had given Jay a vote – even though she wasn't sure she agreed with his argument that it was "Easter-y because it has a freaky rabbit." But it was likely going to be better than Hop. It wouldn't take much to be better than Hop.

Hank had poked his head out within the first five minutes of the film and the repeated F-bombs that were being dropped at the characters' kitchen table. It sounded familiar was the three siblings in the film bickered. But had been enough to perk up Hank's super-sonic ears and have him out there rasping about "What are you watching?"

Erin had just provided the rating – not the movie title and he'd glared at her. So instead she'd told him that she'd seen it before – when she wouldn't have been that much older than Ethan. That she was sure her and Justin watched it at the house and he'd let them. His eyes had shifted to the screen and he'd eventually muttered something about sex, drugs, violence, language and nightmares and her ass being on the line if any of that was a problem.

She'd rolled her eyes. He'd smacked at her and given her those 'don't fuck with me' look and had retreated. For all the ways Hank had softened a bit in his parenting with Eth – he'd definitely become a bigger tight ass about media consumption than he had been when her and J was in the house. But as they'd watched the movie and she'd really remembered it, she could agree that maybe it wasn't the best choice for Eth. A kid who escapes death only to end up dying – and that making his family's life better? Maybe not that appropriate.

Though, she wasn't sure how much Eth had actually taken out of the movie. It's whole time travel storyline was kind of complex. Erin wasn't even entirely sure she got it – and it wasn't her first time seeing the thing and she wasn't twelve. But she was pretty sure that E had gotten that the movie was pretty dark. And that there'd been sex, drugs and violence in it. That the central character was pretty screwed up. Maybe in sort of ways that Eth was screwed up too. Screwed up but loveable? Thing was that Donnie Darko was doomed. Doomed from the start. And she hoped that that wasn't what Eth had taken away from the movie.

She actually kind of hoped that most of it had gone over his head. That he'd just felt grown-up getting to watch a movie that the "big kids" in the room had wanted to watch. That he could brag about seeing it and pretend to be all retro. Likely most of the kids in his school would've never seen it or heard about it. Which likely wouldn't help with E's coolness factor. His non-existent coolness factor.

Maybe they should've just watched Hop. And let him laugh about the coup d'etat of the militant chick who wants to be the Easter Bunny. Fuck. She'd sat through that movie every Easter since Ethan was about seven. Thankfully, it was on the list of ones that he only specifically watched at the holidays. But she was pretty sure she'd seen it enough – and the plot and lines were uncomplicated enough – that she could still end up reciting half the damn thing. Even without seeing it, she had "I want candy" on endless repeat in her head.

At some point during the movie, Hank had come and stood in the front room staring at the television. He'd made a coupe unimpressed noises but eventually declared he was taking the dog for a walk. Erin didn't think any of them had really acknowledged he'd even said it. But he'd disappeared with Bear. A good while ago now. Sometimes she thought that Hank liked having the dog as an excuse to leave the house. He definitely wasn't walking the dog. He was out doing whatever it was that Hank did and you just didn't ask too many questions about. Though, he likely only wandered so far afield when he had the puppy with him. With the way he smelled sometimes after he got home – of stale second-hand cigarette smoke and cheap wine – she knew that what walking the dog really meant was going over to the social club to get away from them for an hour or so. "Walking the dog" was just a convenient way to accommodate it.

After the movie, Jay had still commandeered control of the television and had put it on the Hawks game. And it'd been at that point that Eth had come over to the couch and tried to wrestle the remote away from Jay. Jay had ended up having the kid in a headlock with one arm and the remote held high above his head in the other. And it'd been in that position that Eth had some how settled and eventually fallen asleep – still draped against Jay and Jay's arm still resting around him, even though the headlock had loosened.

Erin smiled a bit at the scene. The realization that what Jay thought he might want wasn't the European donuts – it was this.

"He's pretty much only that cute or likeable when he's sleeping," Erin told Jay at a lowered level – because Eth was sleeping – soundly.

Jay shrugged a little at her interpretation of her brother's cute moments. She knew Jay had seen many of Eth's less than shining ones. That sometimes Eth annoyed the fuck out of Jay. And the time that she put in with him sometimes frustrated Jay beyond belief too. That he vocalized that sometimes he felt like she put Hank and Ethan ahead of them working on their relationship. Which was true – in a way.

But she also knew that Jay was just referring to the average every day moments. Like that. Like the whole late afternoon they'd spent with Hank and Ethan when they'd been invited over for dinner. When they'd gotten given the little tour of the few small treats that Hank had picked up for Eth for Easter. When Eth had lit up when they'd bestowed a dinosaur egg with a fossil model inside for him to put together. He'd gotten it done in all of ten minutes but he'd talked a mile a minute while he did it. Still that little boy excitement in him and appreciation for a small unexpected Easter treat — even if it was hastily picked up at the ninety-nine cent store — and even though he was pushing the point where he was too cool for anything and too grown-up for anything and too embarrassed to be near them.

But it was those moments. Moments like when he'd refused to let her try the "chocolate" egg that Hank had tracked down for him – firmly declaring "I'm not sharing!" and batting at her hands when she tried to break off a little piece to taste exactly what this supposed "chocolate" could taste like and not just Ethan's review of "It tastes really good and you CAN'T HAVE ANY!". So she'd been sure to break off an even bigger piece than she'd originally intended and move away from him with him clacking after her and tossing his weight at her on the couch while she broke it between her teeth and let it let on her tongue – showing the gooey mess to him as he batted at her in a way that just caused her to laugh and toss the other small remaining bit at Jay for him to try, which he did despite the dirty looks Eth cast him too. All the while, Hank rumbling from the kitchen about "Would you stop acting like savages".

"You got him paleo 'chocolate', Hank," she'd called back. "We're getting out Neanderthal on."

She could feel the unimpressed face he'd made in the next room without even having to see it. But she was pretty impressed with this 'chocolate' – no matter how great Eth thought it was. He was also pretty over the moon with his dietary restriction approved gum – which he also wasn't sharing and which Erin was also pretty sure likely tasted of ass.

"Did you get any real chocolate, Hank?" she'd called out instead.

"No," he grumbled.

"What about my chocolate egg?" she teased him.

"Don't buy Easter baskets for grown women," he'd grouched from the other room.

She was actually surprised he'd even done as much for Ethan as he had. Ethan had actually asked her about Easter and if it was "a thing" ahead of the holiday and after the whole basket making raffle thing. She'd told him not to expect much out of his dad. But she'd also mentioned to Hank that Eth was asking.

It was low key. But it was a day. An afternoon. A Sunday.

And Erin knew it was those low-key moments that Jay seemed to like. That it was though invites that he appreciated. And that since Ethan had started the trial – Jay had gotten to be there for more and more of those. And she'd seen how it had caused shifts in how he interacted with her and how he interacted with Eth and how he interacted with Hank. And how Eth related to Jay too.

That they'd reached this point. The point where Eth wrestled with Jay the same way he wrestled with her. That he flopped against him comfortable – just like he did her. And that he'd let himself fall asleep.

"I'm pretty sure their cuteness factor given a given on arrival either," Erin provided Jay as she looked at the two of them. It was making her smile a bit. Even though she knew that if Hank and Bear came back in the door, Jay would be straightening and removing his arm from around Eth and doing his best to make it look like he wasn't that comfortable with her little brother – and that Eth wasn't that comfortable with him.

"Maybe we could get one this age so the cuteness factor is already a given," Jay teased.

She snorted. "I'm pretty sure if we got one that came that age, their cuteness factor would be questionable and very short lived."

He smiled at that and looked down at Ethan but then cast his eyes to her. "I'm serious, Erin," he said. "I want one. A kid. Our kid."

She gave him a thin smile and shifted on the couch – pulling her knees up and under her until she tipped over next to him and leaned over and around Ethan to give Jay a small peck on the lips and to cup his cheek. He gave her a little smile as she did, pulling away to gaze at him.

"I know," she said. "We will."

It felt a little strange to say it. To say it without that "eventually", "when we're ready", "we have lots of time", "maybe in a few years". To not talk around it so much. To just acknowledge it was going to happen. That it wasn't something that they just thought about but weren't sure about. That it was something they actually wanted. With each other. To do together. That it was something they'd make the time and space for. Something they'd try for and hope for and work for.

But they'd been working toward that moment. They'd talked about the baby and children and family aspect of their relationship more than some of the other parts – the date, the dress, the venue, the guests, the invites, the pricetag. Those things were only so important. Family. That was bigger than what their wedding day was going to look like.

And she'd felt the shift too. The changing dynamics and relationships. The shifting perspectives as they dealt with Ethan. As they played big brother and big sister to him, and babysitter, and guardians and mentors and caretakers … and their own weird brand of parenting. And they'd both realized they could do it. Maybe more – maybe better – than either of them thought. And they weren't screwing him up either. Or at least she didn't think so yet. Maybe Eth would tell a different story when he was an adult. About how fucked up it was to have his older sister and her partner-friend-boyfriend-fiancé-husband help raise him.

But everyone blamed those who raised them for fucking them up somehow. It was just the way it was.

She didn't think her and Jay would fuck up a kid worse than how their parents had fucked them up. The bars had been set pretty low. They could do better.

She leaned in to give Jay another small peck because his eyes were dancing with the affirmation that someday they'd have this scene again. But it'd be more their own. All theirs. And that they'd get it repeated – as mommy and daddy to a little person growing up. Not just a "big sister" and sorta "big brother" to a kid two-thirds of the way through his childhood.

But as she leaned in Eth stirred and sleepily gazed up to catch a glimpse of what was happening. His hand came up and smacked her right in the breast as he pushed her away from Jay.

"Grooossssssss!" Eth declared.

"Hey," Erin hissed at him and batted his wrist away. "Boobs are off limits."

Ethan made an even more disgusted face and yanked his own hand away as he realized where it'd landed. The 'ick' was almost audible in the look on his scrunched up face.

Erin pushed at him – pressing him upward and off the couch. "It's past lights out. Go put your PJs on," she ordered.

"You aren't the boss of me," Ethan mouthed back at her.

She dramatically glanced around and then gave him a patronizing look. "Look at that. Your dad isn't here. So, yeah, I am the boss of you. Go. I'll be up in ten minutes."

He cast her a look. "So you can have a quickie?" he snarked.

Erin rolled her eyes. "You don't even know what that is," she said.

"Yes, I do," Ethan argued definantly. "It's when you do it quick. Like in ten minutes."

Erin allowed a small laugh. "How long do you think it usually takes, Ethan?" she put back to him.

He stared at her. "Like … an hour … ?"

Jay let out a louder laugh at that and looked away, mumbling an apology. Ethan just glared at the both of them.

"I'm gonna tell Dad," he spat.

Erin shrugged. "You do that, Eth," she said. "You tell your dad that me and Jay had a 10 minute quickie on the couch and I'm sure it's going to open up all kind of avenues of conversation for you two."

He squinted angrily at her and then started to storm – as fast as he could – toward the stairs. "Don't come say good night," he spouted.

She rolled her eyes but didn't respond. They both knew he didn't mean that. And that she wouldn't listen even if he did.

Instead she just looked back to Jay. "Really cute, right?"

His laugh was still shaking through him. "An hour …?" he put to her.

She rolled her eyes. "You sure you still want one?"

He cocked his eyebrow. "Don't know. Does trying for one involve this hour long sex he speaks of?"

She grinned a bit and leaned in to find his mouth. It was a peck. But it deepened quickly now that her baby brother was out of sight.

"Hmm …," she allowed as the briefly broke for some air. "Maybe. If the hour includes at least thirty-five minutes of this."

He smiled a bit at that and caught her mouth again. He teasingly broke away, pulling her bottom lip with him. His one hand running along the inside of her thigh up to the V in her legs. The other tracing along her ribs, briefly cupping at her breast, and then trailing up to rub his rough thumb over the sensitive skin of her neck before tilting her head just slightly and putting his mouth almost back to hers. His breath flush with hers.

"How about about fifty minutes of this," he said and briefly caught her lips, "and this," he added and his hand cupped and stroked a bit more firmly between her legs, causing a small stir within her at the feeling of his fingers against the fabric of her jeans and the heat she knew he could already feel through them. "And then we can cap it off with one of these ten minute quickies he speaks of?"

She let a restrained giggled slip out at that as his lips caught hers again and she smiled against them. "On the couch?" she teased.

"Mmm …," Jay allowed and smiled at her. "Maybe not this couch. But I can think of another one that's subtle yet firm," he said and again moved his hand to her breast – which weren't off limits to him.

She grinned back and glanced toward the door. "Where the fuck is Hank?" she put to Jay.

Jay nodded. "Yeah, I think he better hurry up. Done with the babysitting. Time to head home for the baby-making."

She gave his chest a little slap at that but settled next to him with a little smile. He kept looking at her. There was a seriousness and a calmness about him. But a genuine little smile – not a teasing one – in it, as he reached to press some of her hair behind her ear for her.

"ERIN! Hurry up!" Ethan hollered from upstairs.

She raised her eyebrow at Jay. "Apparently we aren't quick enough," she said. He smiled and she lulled her head over her shoulder. "Haven't heard the water running yet, Eth. Brush your teeth."

The annoyed huff was apparent but there was movement and pipes in the house started rattling as he turned on the tap.

"I hope you only want one," she said, as she pulled away from him gently. His hand still hooking with her fingers as she rose.

He shrugged at her. "Don't know should we contain these genetics to just one," he teased. She cocked her eyebrow at him. "Rugged good looks and a razor sharp mind," he put to her with that smile of his.

She shook her head at him. "You aren't that cute," she told him. "So the kids will only be so cute too." He allowed a repressed laugh at that and gave his head a little shake. "I'll be back in a bit …" she said and started to make her way toward the stairs.

Jay gave a little nod. "Make it a quickie," he said, giving her a coy smile.

She let another little smile slip out at that. And his eyes just twinkled as he turned back to the game.

And it was just one of those moments. Where it felt real. Where it felt like they could actually do this. And like they would. They will.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Two other chapters — the ones before this: Those Eyes and Fingerprints — were also posted in the past 24 hours. Please make sure you haven't missed them. The count is pretty low on them so far so I think the bump issue is at it again. Feedback is always appreciated.**


	73. Unannounced

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET IN APRIL. IT IS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 57 - BASKET CASES - in the story.**

"Look who was loitering around the bottom of the stairs," Platt said, jutting her thumb at Justin as Hank gazed at him from just outside his office door.

The whole bullpen was looking at his eldest son too. Erin the most intensely of the bunch of them. Her brow was creased with confusion and clear displeasure as she cast Voight a look of her own. There was some accusation in it. That he'd known this was about to happen and he hadn't told her. But Hank didn't know anything about it – and he was likely as surprised and as unimpressed to see J standing there as he was.

J was clearly quickly catching onto the chilly welcome and looked unsure about his presence there. That usual chip on his shoulder wasn't sitting there as heavily.

"Hi, Pop," he allowed.

Hank just grunted at that and gestured for him to come to his office. Get him out of the bullpen as quick as possible. Because in that moment his personal, private life was hanging right out. He didn't like that. Tried to avoid it as much as possible. And that was getting increasingly more difficult with time and J's presence there sure as fuck wasn't going to make it any easier.

But his son took his sweet-ass time treading through the space – being sure to cast Erin a long glance as she watched the show. The tension between the two of them was still apparent.

As soon as Justin was inside the office, Hank shut the door and looked at his son. He was avoiding taking the bait. He wasn't going to bite. He knew Justin wanted him to ask if everything was alright. To ask what was up. To give him the chance to play the big man. Talk himself up. But Voight just wasn't going to play the game. Let J explain himself. Let him put on whatever show it was that he was trying to put on that afternoon.

J looked around the space – like he hadn't been in there before – his hands shoved into his pockets while Voight smacked how unimpressed he was by this entire situation. His son glanced at him.

"Hey, can I buy you a drink or something?" his son put to him.

Voight raised his eyebrows and shook his head, planting his fists more firmly in his own pockets. "No," he said flatly.

"Not like now," Justin corrected. "After shift or whatever. Dinner?"

Hank just puckered at him and shook his head again. "No," he said.

J let out a frustrated noise and spun to gaze at the bulletin board for a moment before looking back at him. "Pop," he groaned. "C'mon. I drove all this way to talk man-to-man, face-to-face."

Voight shrugged at him. "J, I've got responsibilities, commitments. I'm not going to drop everything just because you showed up unannounced."

"I'm your kid," Justin pressed at him. "I only get so much leave to see ya."

"And if you wanted time to really see me and really talk to me – you should've let me know that this visit was coming down the pipes," Hank put back to him.

"So you could tell me that I'm still not welcome home and in this city?" Justin pushed at him.

Hank shrugged and puckered at him. "Yea," he acknowledged.

"Pop, c'mon," J groaned at him. "I want to see you. For you to see Henry."

"Mmm …" Voight grunted and leaned against the edge of his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. "See you both every weekend on the webcam thing."

Justin rolled his head in frustration again and looked at him. "You said you'd still come out and visit while we worked this out," he pressed.

Voight gave a little nod. "And I will," he said.

"Pop," Justin hissed at him, getting closer to getting into his face. "You've backed outta every long weekend so far. Super Bowl."

Voight shrugged. "Just because it's a long weekend, don't mean I got it off."

"Easter," Justin pressed at him.

Voight let out a quick breath and gazed at his son. He had wanted to be there for Easter. He did want to see his grandson on more than just a computer screen. But it just hadn't worked out.

"I told you and Olive that E's got his State Championships this week. Your brother isn't in a place where he'd be able to handle that drive, a visit, and making a good showing at his thing," Voight provided flatly.

"So leave him with Erin," Justin spat and gestured angrily through the window of the door, where it was apparent that Erin was still casting occasional glances to try to gauge what the hell was going on in there.

But Voight just shook his head. "No," he said flatly.

"Pop, c'mon," Justin near whined at him again. "How many of these stupid robot meets do you have to go sit through?"

Voight shrugged at him. "How many of your football and hockey meets did I sit through?" he put back to him.

"You skipped out on a hell of a lot of 'em, Pop," Justin gestured at him.

Voight eyed him. He'd done his best to be at as many as possible. It wasn't a perfect record. But there'd been a whole lot of seasons and a whole lot of games over the course of them. And he'd had work and two other kids and their activities to balance in the midst of them. But he wasn't going to argue with him. So he just smacked his lips and kept looking at his son – waiting for him to get to his point. If he even had one. Voight suspected he didn't. If he did, he would've gotten to it by now. Instead he'd just driven ten hours to fight. But Hank was done fighting with him. Wasn't a kid anymore. Didn't need to argue with him. He'd more than done his duty with Justin.

"You didn't want to be there for Henry's first Easter?" Justin finally spat at him when apparently he'd accepted that he wasn't going to engage in an argument about how his oldest felt he'd failed as a father or hadn't been supportive enough of his activities and interests.

Hank shrugged. "Sure, I did," he allowed. "Timing just didn't work out this year."

"There's just this year, Dad," J pressed at him.

But Hank just shrugged again. "He's got lots more Easters ahead of him," he provided.

"Right," Justin muttered, turning away from him again. "But not his first. Eth's thing wasn't even on the weekend. You could've been back in time."

"Already told you," Voight put flatly. "It wasn't about being back in time. Your brother couldn't handle the trip and States. He's worked hard for his place on the team and for them to get this far. Wasn't going to do anything to derail that for him."

"Right," Justin muttered again. "Because E always comes first."

Voight just looked at him. It was another pick at a fight. "Yea," he acknowledged, though. "In this scenario, he does. He's my son. I've got respons—"

"I'm your son too, Pop," Justin spun around and gestured angrily at him. "Henry's your grandson."

"Yea," Voight nodded. "You're my adult son and H is my grandson. The responsibilities I've got to the two of you are different than the ones I've got with your brother right now. See, your H's father. You're the one responsible to him – not me. And if you were taking care of your responsibilities – on your leave time – you'd be at home taking care of your family, not here picking a fight with me."

Justin rolled his eyes and rotated his shoulders until they popped. "You're my family too, Pop," he pressed at him. "And I'm here because I want to get this fucking resolved. Olive wants it resolved. I thought you'd want to have this talk face-to-face. Respect that."

Voight gave him a pucker and a little nod. "Yea, J," he allowed. "This is a conversation we should have face-to-face. But I'm not going to respect you coming into my place of work unannounced – bringing our personal, private, family business into my unit – and putting on a show for my team."

"I was gonna to take you to dinner," J pushed back at him. "Talk 'bout it over a meal. You said 'no'."

"And I'm still saying 'no'," Voight put back to him. Justin glared at him. "Your brother's got seeding matches up at UIC."

He thought that was more explanation than he really needed to provide. But he supposed another part of him hoped that J might clue in that it might be a good time for him to make some effort with his brother. That maybe where he should really be doing his patch up work was with Ethan and Erin – not him.

"And that's more important than us talking?" Justin pushed at him.

"Didn't say that," Voight said. "But I did tell your brother that I'd be over in the stands when I wrapped up here for the day."

"So then let me buy you a beer after," Justin tried.

"No," Voight shook his head.

"Pop," Justin sighed at him. "I drove all this way—"

"And if you'd told me this was in the hopper, I would've made clearer to you that this ain't a good week for this kind of bullshit."

"Bullshit?" Justin spat at him. "This is our relationship, Pop. Your relationship with Henry."

Hank shook his head. "J, this don't got anything to do with my relationship with Henry. This is just another example of you not taking responsibility for your choices and your actions."

"Dad, I'm trying to do that right now and you ain't letting me," J argued.

"No," Hank put to him flatly again. "What you're trying to do right now is pick a fight with me. And this ain't the way I'm going to have any kind of conversation with my adult son – who's a husband and a father now. Because if you were coming to me as a grown-up – who's married and who has a child – you'd be understanding exactly where I was coming from and we wouldn't be standing here having this chat at all."

Justin glared at him. "What about tomorrow morning? I can buy ya breakfast."

"No," Voight told him again.

Justin let out a slower breath, his eyes fixated on him. "Can I at least go over to the house a get some shut eye before making the drive home?"

"No," Voight said again.

Justin gaped at him. "Why the fuck not?" he spat.

"Because I told you that you aren't welcome back in my house until I start seeing the man in you in front of me and not this snot-nosed brat that keeps fucking showing up in my city," Voight told him. "And, because it ain't your house no more, Justin. But it's your brother's. And I'm not going to put him in a position where he's going to feel uncomfortable or unwelcome in his own home."

"It's not like I'm going to put him in a chokehold, Pop," Justin hissed. "I'm gone get a few hours and then I'll leave you the fuck alone again."

Voight sighed at that and reached to briefly squeeze the bridge of his nose. He gazed at the floor for a moment and then looked at his son again.

"Justin," he said flatly. "I love you. And I have tried over and over again with you. And despite how much I hate what went on at Christmas, I've still be talking to you. Still been reaching out. Trying."

"Yeah," J said exasperatedly. "And I have too."

"With me," Voight allowed. "Maybe. Not as well as I would like – because I still haven't seen or heard any acknowledgement from you about what happened over the holidays."

"Pop—" he tried to put in again.

"Fucking listen," Voight spat at him like he always seemed to have to with his eldest boy. And Justin just looked at him like that dejected kid. That same sheepish but unapologetic look he'd been getting since J was a little boy. "It's not me you should be talking to. It's your brother and your sister. And you've had three months, J, and you've put in zero effort with them."

"Pop, you're the gatekeeper," his son said. "If we aren't cool—"

Hank shook his head. "Justin," he put firmly, "you've put me through worse than this. You've hurt me in ways that I don't even want to get into right now. And I still talk to you. I still love you. I still reach out to you. We're fine. We've unfortunately established that no matter what bullshit you pull – you are still going to be my son, I am still going to be your father, and we will be in each other's life and I will do what I can do be there for you. And for Olive and for Henry. We're fine. But I'm not going to be around forever to be that understanding and forgiving and supportive of who you are and the family you're making. Your brother and sister – they are hopefully going to be around for you a whole lot longer then me at this point. But your relationship with them is not fine. And that hurts me. It really fucking upsets me. That you can't see that and you seem to have no fucking desire to work on that."

Justin just stared at him. For a kid who liked the sound of his own voice more than was good for him – sometimes he really never seemed to know what to say when the obvious was laid right out in front of him.

"Pop—" he finally managed to push out.

But Voight just shook his head and held up a hand to stop him. "You and Olive talked about having another kid?"

J snorted at him at that and skewed his face. "Pop, c'mon, it's still a little early to be talkin' 'bout that."

Hank pressed out his bottom lip in disagreement and shook his head. "I don't think it is," he said. "It's the kind of conversation that married couples have. Talk about what they want their family to look like."

Justin shrugged at him. "Yea, sure," he allowed. "I guess we'd like Henry to have a brother. But it's not like we're getting on that yet."

Hank just nodded and looked at the ground for a moment. "Your mom wanted four kids," he muttered. "We wanted four," he clarified and looked up. "I tell you that before?"

"No …" Justin managed.

"Mmm …" Voight allowed. "Maybe because you never much seemed like you wanted your siblings. We wanted siblings for you. But it wasn't easy for us and guess we had a lot of years where we thought … accepted … you'd likely be an only child. Guess you probably thought that was what our family was going to look like too. Because you never really seemed to warm up to the idea that you had a brother or a sister after Erin and E joined our family. They sure warmed up to you. Sure wanted to be a part of your life. But you never really returned it. Not the way your mom and I imagined you would. You still don't. I thought that might change. I thought a lot might change after you became a father."

"Pop, I have changed," he said more evenly. "I love Henry. I love being a dad. I mean – I get it."

"Do you?" Hank put to him and shrugged. "I don't know that you do yet, Justin. And lately, I think – 'maybe after he has another one, maybe he'll understand then.' Not that I want you or your kids to feel the way it hurts when two of them ain't talking, ain't getting along, are pushing each other out of their lives. But maybe after you have that hope about giving Henry that brother and then see – feel – what that conflict does when you've got to accept maybe he just never really wanted a brother or a sister – maybe then you'll get it. And you'll get what you've been doing to me and what you've been doing to Eth and Erin. And, if that's not enough for you, maybe think a bit about how your mother would feel if she was here and saw our family like this. Because Justin – you may have wanted to be an only child. But that was never your mom and mine's plan. That wasn't what we wanted for you. And your mom, me – we were real happy with the family we got. It was a long time in the making but it was real close to what we'd hoped for. A lot of ways, it was more than we hoped for. And it really fucking tears me apart that my first born is working so hard to pull me in so many ways like it's some sort of competition between the three of you. Because it's not. It never was. And all it feels like you're doing is trying to tears down something your mom and I worked so long and so hard to get."

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Two other chapters — the ones ahead of this — were posted tonight. Please check them out.**


	74. Game On

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 69 - UNANNOUNCED.**

Hank didn't move his eyes from gazing down from his perch in the stands at the UIC Pavilion. The lower bowl wasn't that full – but it was full enough. Any surprise that Voight had had about the attendance level – the amount of entertainment and mascots and grand-standing and energy that was reminiscent of attending his old boy's football games – had depreciated by the time E's Robotics Team had hit the City Finals.

That had been enough of a show. This was taking it to another level – the State level. And the venue and atmosphere was proving just that.

It was a competition – a championship. The kids – the teams – had a lot on the line. And if this was what States looked like – Hank was sure that if the Ignatius kids managed to get into Regionals or Nationals (or somehow the fucking Worlds, which he knew he was going to have to burst his poor kid's bubble and not sign the permission slip or fork out the cash if that happened. E's health just wasn't going to let his son leave the country and go to fucking Europe on a school trip for a week) would be an even bigger spectacle.

This wasn't even the height of what the City Championship was going to look like. Still just seeding matches. He'd already been warned that the place would be hoping by Friday afternoon and that it would be all out pandemonium as the final rounds played out on Saturday.

But Justin still ignored the fact he was being ignored and sat himself down in the vacant seat next to him.

"This is just crazy," J said with some of the same surprise that Hank had heard in Erin's voice back a few months ago when they'd just trekked into a raucous high school gym to watch Iggy's Steel Wolves desecrate some other labored over robot.

"Hmm …" Hank grunted, unconsciously, and caught it, crossing his arms tight across his chest and sitting back in the seat. He'd been leaned forward on his knees intently keeping an eye on Magoo.

Eth was the team's "Intelligence" officer. Hank didn't know it that was a real position on the team or just some moniker that likely Mouse had bestowed on them. Either way, the kid fucking loved that he got to "work Intelligence". His youngest had just spent the better part of twenty minutes scurrying around looking at some the other three robots that were going to be placed out on the playing field. Magoo was now over likely briefing the captain and drivers about what he'd discerned about the competition. He'd only have a few more minutes for that before he was off getting coached by Mouse to put that Intel to use to figure out how to sequence the coding to bring down the various barriers to disrupt the movements of the other robots at critical moments. But it likely didn't look like anything was going on to J.

Not a hell of a lot went on for the first thirty minutes of each match that was all about strategy, planning and set-up. Logistics. Hank could appreciate that even if it wasn't that visually interesting to look at. It was interesting enough to him to watch how engaged and involved his little boy was trying to be – even if he usually had an older kid or one of the coaching-mentor staff tagging along with him and guiding him. More interesting to make his own observations from the stands – gleen what he could from there and think about his own approach. Balance it against how E ultimately set up the playing field and sequenced events. Provided some good conversation with the kid after about why he decided to do something – place it where, execute a command when. Sequencing. Pristine planning. Tightness in the whole unit. Those were things Hank valued. Good skill sets for his kid to have.

A lot of ways, watching his son in the pre-game set-up was more interesting than what E got to do after the born blew. They had his kid over in a little square observing that side of the playing field. E had told him it was because the robots weren't allowed to have cameras –just motion sensors – so the drivers couldn't always see the various objects they were supposed to be collecting on the field and depositing in various places at various times for various points, especially after the team's programming sequence to drop barriers and obstructions came into play. Sometimes Iggy's was blocking their own view of their robot in the process. So E became their eyes on the field – barking out commands and information and madly keying messages into the computer they had set up for him there. He wasn't so good at that part so E did a whole lot more yelling than some of the other kids put in the Intel box.

Funny, though, Ignatius' Steel Wolves were riding the Top Three teams in the district all season. Had to wonder if E's low-tech communication adjustments had something to do with that. E had told him, "Dad, we came up with code words – just like you too." Kid was so fucking proud of him. And smart as fuck. Made Hank just as proud of him. What the other teams may think he was calling out to his drivers wasn't necessarily what they were actually hearing. "They heard wrong," in Eth's words. Warmed Hank's heart. Good on E. The kid got it.

"When's E's game start?" J asked, squinting down at the court.

"It's started," Hank graveled.

J's gaze shifted to him and then moved back to squint at the lot-of-nothing visually that was going on down below. "How can you even see what he's doing from here?"

Voight just grunted and J took that as an invitation to lean back in his seat – knees spread wide enough that he was invading Hank's space in the tight stadium seating. Justin was always fucking posturing like that. Since he was a little kid. Worse since he was a teen. With the talk and the puffed chest. Taking up space that he shouldn't be taking up. Like volume was the measure of manhood. Pissed him off but it should've been something he'd knocked out of him long ago. Likely wasn't much he could do about it now.

"He likely can't see you. Took forever to find you in here," J said.

"Knows I'm here. Knows where I like to sit in the stands," Hank said. "And I don't want him seeing you here when he looks up looking for me."

He felt J's gaze fall on him at that and Hank actually turned to look at him.

"He doesn't know you're here," Hank put to him. "You two aren't kosher. It's gonna upset him and his head needs to be in the game."

J shrugged at him. "So, I came out to his big game. That's a good step. Supportive."

Hank shook his head. "It's not supportive. It's you not listening to what I told ya a few hours ago."

J sighed as Hank's eyes went back to the playing field again. E was still pretty engrossed in whatever he was up to. Strategy stage. Didn't look like he was searching for the stands yet. But if he got some time between executing his coding, getting into his box and waiting for the horn – he was likely going to let his eyes wander. And Voight didn't want him wondering who the hell was sitting with him and then his little head going a million miles an hour in directions it wasn't supposed to be when he realized it was his brother.

"Well, I just paid for a ticket, Pop," Justin muttered. "So it's not like you can kick me out."

'Watch me' Hank's immediate thought. But instead he mustered the more politically correct, "I want you to leave."

"I want to see E play," J hissed.

Hank shook his head. "J, if you gave two-shits about his season, this whole thing between you kids would've been cleared up eons ago. You would've been on the horn asking him about what was goin' on and knowing what the fuck is going on down there right now – not sitting here asking me when his game starts."

J sighed and sat for a second but then pulled out his phone and fiddled with it for a moment before leaning forward and shoving it into Hank's line of sight. Hank had caught enough of a glimpse of it to see it was a video file and little H was standing upright. But as Justin's finger was about to hit play, Hank reached up his hand and grabbed his son's wrist to get the thing out of his face. He wasn't going to see it that way.

J looked at him hurt. "He's walkin', Pop," he said. "He just started on the weekend. You likely would've seen it if you'd come down."

Hank glared at the court. His tongue poking into his cheek while he seethed – doing his best to calm himself. He fucking hated he was being given that news – that way, then. How manipulative his oldest boy was being. The buttons he was trying to push.

"This is your brother's week," he said through gritted teeth. "He has worked too hard to be here. Me and your sister have sacrificed too much to make sure he's well enough and caught up enough in school that he can be down there with his team. You aren't going to distract him – or take this moment away from him. Or from me enjoying it too and being here to support my boy. So," he said and turned to gave J steely eyes. "are you moving your ass? Or am I?"

J stared at him – more glared. "Pop," he said firmly. "I've got news and I need to talk to you. We need to work this out."

"Not here. Not now. Not today. Not this week," Voight put back to him.

J's fist clenched and he glared at him more firmly. "Yea, Pop, today. And if you aren't going to let me take you out for a drink so I can tell you face-to-face – then I'm going to say it right here and right now."

Voight seethed again and shook his head. He knew what this was about. Knew that his son had been waiting for acceptance into college and into the program with the army to fund his education. And if it wasn't about that – it was about worse. Getting posted to the other side of the country where Hank wouldn't be getting to see his grandson more than once or twice a year, if he was lucky. Or getting deployed – and J needing him to look out for and after Olive and Henry. Either way it was a pull at his heartstrings.

"I was gonna tell you over the weekend, Pop," J said a bit more evenly. "But you pulled out on the visit. Gotta do this face-to-face. No phone. No fucking Skype."

Hank gave him a look. "Can meet you at eleven-thirty. Miller's Pub."

Justin gaped at him for a beat. "Pop, eleven-thirty? C'mon. I gotta drive in the morning."

Voight smacked at him. "You head out on the town before you got your son down for the night?"

"Since when is Magoo's lights out at eleven-thirty?"

"We're here 'til nine. Get him home. Get him to bed. Interrupt your sister's evening so see can come over and watch him for me on your account so my sick twelve-year-old isn't left alone in the house in the middle of the night," he put flatly.

J looked away, shaking his head. "Yea, fine, Pop," he muttered. "We'll do it your way. Just like always." He stood shoving his hands in his pockets, giving the court another glance and a nod. "Hope E does OK. Maybe I'll watch it from farther up."

Hank shift his own eyes back to the playing field. E was starting to move over to the box and the timer above the court showed there wasn't much time left before the horn went off to set the robots into motion.

"You stay out of his sight until you figure out how to make it right," he put flatly.

J sighed but stepped away. "Miller's. Eleven-thirty," he muttered.

Hank just grunted and kept his eyes on Magoo. He wished his mind was focused down that way too.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: The two chapters before this — CAKE and THE GREAT BAMBINO — were also posted in the past 24 hours. Please make sure you didn't miss them. Feedback is appreciated.**


	75. Baked

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET IN APRIL. IT IS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 57 - BASKET CASES - in the story.**

Natalie frowned as she entered the bay that Ethan Voight had been placed in. Hank was pacing like a caged dog at that point so she already knew this wasn't going to be one of her better dealings with him.

His eyes bolted at her as soon as she was in the doorway. "He's still burning up," he near barked.

She allowed a little nod and walked closer to Ethan's bed. The boy was asleep at that point but she could still see the sweat gleaning on his forehead without even touching him or calling for one of the nurses to read his temperature again.

"Hank, it's going to take a while for the fever to break," she assured him, though she found herself clutching the boy's chart to her chest a little protectively.

"Can't you give him something," Hank gestured at the kid both helplessly and angrily. "He's baking."

She gave him a frown and a little nod. "He's on broad-spectrum antibiotics. I want to put him on something a bit stronger but I need to do a lumbar puncture on him first."

He scrubbed at his face with more of that anxiety in him.

She'd had to deal with the Voights enough at that point she was starting to know the drill. Generally Hank Voight was all business when he ended up having to bring his son into the Emergency Department. He was calm. In control. But there'd been a handful of times where he was clearly worried – as any parent would be. There'd been some real emergencies with Ethan – things that would scare any parent to see their child like that. And that evening had clearly been one of those times.

The rapid onset of the symptoms. The spiking and persistent fever. The headache. The stiff neck and muscle rigidity. The hallucinations and vision disruptions that Hank was reporting his son had been having.

Though, they'd come in their own vehicle, Hank had carried his child in and Ethan looked like little more than a soaked ragged doll when they'd first got him into the bed and started working over him. And there's an urgency when a child gets brought in like that. A frenzy. It may not be a bullet wound or a cardiac arrest – but a kid that limp, pale and soaked brought it own set of criteria to run through and check … quickly.

"Another fucking spinal tap?" Hank spat – not at her, just at the room while gazing at his sick child. His eyes shifted to her. "Why?" he demanded.

She sighed and held up her hand to try to get him to calm. After Hank was worked up – in one of his states – the calm rarely came right away. He'd be snapping at the nursing and breaking mirrors in their bathrooms before he managed to pull himself together and sit like a watchdog next to his child's bed. After he calmed – he wouldn't move again. Not for a bathroom break. Not for a coffee. He'd just be there until his son got released. So they might have him there a while that night.

"It's looking like he has meningitis," Natalie put to him.

"Meningitis?" Hank barked at her again. "How the fuck does he have meningitis? He's been vaccinated. Aren't all the fucking kids supposed to be vaccinated now?"

She nodded again. "OK," she allowed. "That's good to know. But I think we're looking at viral meningitis – not bacterial. And there's no vaccine against that."

Hank just gaped at her. "So? What? My kid's brain in baking?"

She shook her head and took a step further into the room. She wanted to try to offer him a bit more support but Hank was the kind of person that it was often hard to offer any sort of support to. She wasn't sure how much he wanted it. Now or ever—with any issue.

"Bacterial isn't as severe – and it looks like we caught it early. But he was likely exposed in the last two to ten days. Probably at school. What school is it that he goes to?"

"St. Ignatius," Hank provided flatly, examining his son sleeping form. It was always amazing how little children could look when they were sleeping – no matter their age.

Natalie took a small note of his statement. "OK," she nodded. "I don't think we've had any reports of any of the schools having a meningitis outbreak but I'll double-check. If the spinal tap comes back positive, we'll have to notify Public Health and his school."

"Yeah …" Hank muttered. He was looking more defeated at that point. Calmer but more nervous. Likely rightfully so. "No one touched my kid? This fall. The outbreak …"

Natalie shook her head. She knew that had made headlines. When CDC got involved it did. When the media started making it sound like meningitis was the next HIV/AID crisis and running rampant in the city's LBGT community – people were going to start to freak out. To not see the disease for what it was. To not understand it. To just start jumping to conclusions and panic about it rather than deal with the realities about it. Thankfully the city – and the state – had managed to reign some of that in and take precautions to protect the larger community. And the overcrowded segments of the community that would be more vulnerable to the spread – not because of their sexuality but just because they were living in close quarters. Unfortunately – that only did so much for those who weren't already vaccinated and those who were already vulnerable. The young. The elderly. And anyone with compromised immune systems.

"No," she assured. "Viral meningitis is caused by the same type of enteoviruses that cause colds, flus. They often arise out of a pre-existing infection that manages to spread. Someone like Ethan – with the state of his immune system – it just makes him more susceptible to something like this. Unfortunately."

Hank let out a long sigh and scrubbed at his face. "He was at States," he muttered and looked at her. "Round a lot of kids from all over the place."

Natalie nodded. "OK," she allowed and made another small note on the boy's chart. "I'll check to see if there's any reports else where in the state. There's a possibility he might've been exposed there. But if he was tired and rundown – and Ethan has a history of the recurrent urinary tract and bladder infections—"

"Because of the fucking M.S. and the catheters they keep shoving in him," Hank interrupted.

Natalie gave a little sigh. "Yeah," she allowed. "But those infections, again unfortunately, open him up to this."

Hank made a frustrated sound and glared a hole in the wall before turning to her. "So what do you do to fix this?" he asked with slightly less tone than the conversation had started out with.

"To start, the lumbar puncture so we can see exactly what we're dealing with," she said. "Assuming it is viral – we'll get him on an antiviral and something to make him a bit more comfortable with the pain he's having now and the discomfort he's going to have after the procedure." Hank let out another disgusted noise at that. She knew that Ethan had had the misfortune of having a leak after one of his spinal taps and the debilitating headache that went along with it and had them back in hospital. No one would want their child to go through that again – when they already regularly went through so much. "And we'll want to keep him hydrated."

"So you're going to be admitting him," Hank muttered and gazed at his son, moving back to the chair next to his gurney that looked like it had so far gone un-sat in.

Natalie gave a little shrug. "Let's see what comes back on his spinal fluids," she said, "and see how he does on the IVs before we make that decision."

Hank just grunted and finally sat down next to the bed, finding his son's one hand and gripping at it. Ethan didn't even stir.

"Hank," she called at him and he gave her a momentary glance. "I'd like to do some chest xrays to make sure we aren't dealing with a respiratory infection too."

"OK," he said flatly.

"And I'm going to get him in for some brain imaging," she added.

His eyes bolted to her. "Thought you said this isn't the kind that gets in the head?" he put to her.

She let out a slow breath. "I don't think it is," she allowed. "But dealing with an infection like this is likely going to cause – if it's not already causing – a flare in his M.S. He has that scarring and the history of swelling by his optical nerve."

Hank let out an exasperated breath and turned back to gaze at his boy again, rubbing his thumb across the top of his limp hand. He clearly knew where this was going.

"You said he was having hallucinations," Natalie put to him. "Was he describing hallucinations or vision disruptions, Hank?"

Hank's breath seemed to rattle out of him at that and he stared at his son so long that Dr. Manning was starting to think he wasn't going to bother answering.

"He was seeing his mom," he finally managed in a rasped whisper.

Natalie gave him a sad smile at that. She'd had this conversation with him before in the past. She saw how it affected him. She could feel the sadness in him. And she could relate. She didn't like doing that to him. But her job involved a lot of difficult conversations she'd prefer not to have. Most days she believed that the good aspects of the job – the helping people, the saving people, giving people second chances, keeping families together – outweighed the hard conversations.

"He was seeing his mom or he was seeing a figure?" she pressed gently.

"He said his mom," Hank allowed quietly – which for him was a feat and usually a sign. He was in a vulnerable spot.

"Was he talking to her this time?" she asked.

"Yes," Hank grunted.

Natalie let out a slow breath of her own and made another little note. "It might just be the fever," she said as she wrote. "But let's just check what's going on up there."

Hank gave a little nod. "How long is this going to take?" he muttered.

Natalie shrugged. "You're likely going to be here at least six to eight hours, Hank," she sighed. "Best case scenario."

"No," he rasped. "To get this under control? Get him back on his feet?"

She sighed. "We'll know more after we see what exactly we're dealing with. But bouncing back from meningitis – that would take most people at least a couple weeks. If he's having an exasperation with it …"

"You're going to put him on the IVMP again," he said flatly.

"Well, we'll get his neurologist down here to make that decision," she said. "But that would be what I'd recommend."

Hank's nostrils flared slightly. "And you going to do a plasma flush?" he asked.

Natalie allowed a little nod. "If we're dealing with meningitis and an exasperation congruently, that'd be my recommendation. It will make it easier for his body to process all this, Hank. To fight it off."

He sunk back in his chair a bit and gazed at his son. "His Robotics team made it to Regionals," he graveled. "He worked his fucking ass off all season. Me and Erin …" he shook his head. "We fucking … put so much." He sighed and squeezed at his temples with his one hand, not completing his thought. "We're really proud of him. And he's so proud of getting this far. So fucking excited."

Natalie frowned. "When's the competition?" she asked.

"Thirteenth through sixteenth," he muttered.

Natalie sighed. That wasn't a lot of time to deal with. A week. Just over. Even if Ethan was usually a healthy individual dealing with just meningitis, that was going to be a little much to ask.

"Well, let's run these tests and see what we're really dealing with," she tried to offer a bit more supportively. "He's going to need his rest. But maybe he'll be well enough to go … and watch?"

Hank shook his head and shrugged. "Yea …" he grunted and gazed at his boy some more.

"I'll get these ordered," she said, backing toward the nursing station. "A nurse will be in to do the lumbar puncture." He just nodded, not even looking at her. "Is there anyone we can call for you, Hank? Erin?" she offered.

But he shook his head and leaned forward as she slowly left – a little reluctantly because he looked almost as defeated as poor Ethan did in that bed.

She moved over to the desk, scribbling some more notes in his chart and swinging the computer monitor around to start the requisitions for the various tests and imaging he needed to have done.

"They OK in there?" Dr. Charles asked, scooting up to her and looking back into the room too.

Hank was stroking at his son's sweat-soaked matted hair and rasped at him in quiet tones that Natalie couldn't make out. But she knew that he'd be offering reassurances and explaining to his son what was about to happen – even though he wasn't awake – because that seemed to be what Hank Voight did. Every step of the way.

"No," she sighed and cast him a sad look. "Not today. Not really."

 **AUTHOR NOTE: A chapter got posted before this tonight. Please check it out as well. Again, these are the chapters I had basically done. After this there's likely going to be a bit of a gap before you see the next updates. Or there will at least be longer gaps between updates for the next while.**


	76. Cared About

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 75 - BAKED.**

Jay leaned against the jam of Ethan's bedroom and rapped the injection kit in his palm.

"You ready for this?" he asked and the kid just gave him a shrug.

He took that as enough of a sign that he was allowed to enter. Not that the kid really had a choice in the matter. He'd been left in charge of the kid. He'd been stuck with night meds and lights out crap. So it was going to get done – the way Voight liked it done – whether Eth was going to be co-operative about it or not.

Truth was, though, that Eth was still way to weak and out of it to put up too much of an argument. The kid was batting a thousand. Enough of a fucking MS flare in December that he gets approved for a medical trial. Yeah, great. Only the kid gets fucking chemo pumped into him for four weeks. So there's an added layer of hell. Manages to stay on his feet well enough that he gets to the fucking State Championships of his Robotics Team thing and some idiot rural school brings a fucking team that's infected up with viral meningitis. Awesome. Like that's not fucking contagious enough – especially when you're exposing kids to it who are then going to go back to their school and expose more kids to it and just create a whole other pandemic when the city had barely gotten it under control. But set it in front of some kid who's body is fucking super-sensitive to inflammation and who's immune system is compromised with all these fucking lowered blood counts? Ah, yeah. Of course Eth got the fucking virus too. Only thing any of them could say about that was THANK FUCKING GOD it was just viral and not bacterial. Because Jay didn't even want to think about the possible outcomes if Eth's body had had to try to combat that in the state he was in.

Viral was fucking enough. Kid still ended up in the hospital. Still ended up having it cause inflammation flares – which just fucking exasperated his M.S. symptoms and now the kid was pretty much bowled over again and it was almost his fucking Regional Championships. One – he was missing out on school and practice and build tweak stuff. Two – he probably wasn't going to be well enough to go. And three – if he did manage to get well enough to actually go, he likely wouldn't be given his spot in the pits or Voight would only agree to let them go down and be fucking cheerleaders. Not let Eth run around like the mad scientist thing that he did out on the court.

So the kid was kind of down. As much as he could be down. He only had so much energy to even manage that.

"When's Dad going to be home?" Eth asked as Jay stepped into the room.

Jay shrugged. "Probably a while," he said. "Caught a case."

"Why'd Erin have to go too?"

"She's who's on-call tonight," Jay said.

"But you won't have to go in?"

Jay gave a little shrug at that as he unzipped the kit and started to ready the injection. "Don't think so," he muttered.

If it was the kind of thing they all needed to get called in for – they likely already all would've been called in. This didn't sound like that. At all. This sounded like Voight was doing his best to keep Erin busy and distracted and under someone's watch 24/7 as they came up on that time of year.

Jay thought he'd been doing a decent enough job of that himself outside of work. At least the being there aspect of it. It wasn't like Erin was being particularly chatty about any of it. She didn't want to talk about it and when she did she wanted to talk about it in her way, on her terms. But they'd had a few conversations – that had actually resembled conversations. Shared memories that weren't dominated by tears. Still, he'd acknowledge that Erin had seemed down, moody and mildly distracted.

But enough for Voight to be padding up her workload? Jay wasn't so sure. He also wasn't so sure how he felt about the workload padding when it'd somehow meant that he'd been nominated as the defacto babysitter.

He supposed, in a way, that meant that Voight trusted him. Trusted him alone in his home. Trusted him with his kid. Giving medication to his kid. That all seemed like positive stuff. But he also didn't really want to be a babysitter. Didn't really want to be the one having Eth dumped on him like he didn't have some sort of life and things he wanted to do with his time outside of work.

But it was giving him some perspective on just how much Erin did for Eth and Hank. Added appreciation and maybe added argument that she did way too fucking much and she needed to take a fucking step back because she was DOING WAY TOO FUCKING MUCH.

Jay liked Eth. He was a good kid. He was funny. Fucking moody sometimes. But what'd you expect when he was raised by Voight. Even by Erin. They both excelled at being as mood as, as stubborn as, and as grumpy as fuck. Obviously that was all going to start to rub off on Eth. Especially when he was basically a teenager. Those were also pretty much perquisites for being a teenager.

The thing was, though, watching him was a lot of work. You couldn't just tell him to grab some Hot Pocket out of the freezer to warm up, yell at him to do his homework, and then let him play whatever the fuck videogame he wanted, with a side of Twitter, inappropriate YouTube viewing and some binge watching on Netflix. Basically – he was twelve – nearly fucking thirteen but you still had to go through it all with him step-by-step. Make him real food. Hand him a fucking apple. Cut up the fucking apple because he's shaking too much to do it himself. Sit with him through homework that should take him like maybe forty-minutes but takes more like two hours and you basically have to walk him through every fucking part of it. Take away his electronics. Watch what he's watching on television. And then you cap it all off with his. Night-time pills and this injection.

All of it actually made him feel a little bad that he usually bailed out of going over on weeknights. That on the nights Erin said it was her "turn" to deal with Eth's whatever in the afternoon and evening – that like 75 per cent of the time Jay found an excuse not to go. Would rather do just about anything than sit at Voight's house. But now between stepping up his game with helping out with Eth's care during the trial and now with Erin not really being as there was she usually was – he was being reminded just how much was involved with caring for someone who was sick. Just what Erin's nights looked like when she did go over to help with her little brother. And it made him feel like a bit of a heel for putting out excuses or expressing frustrations at her about her family being put ahead of the family they were trying to make – of their relationship.

Because – this was work. It was hard. It was draining. It brought him back to when his mom was sick and made all this emotional baggage play through him. And that was on top of how draining just managing Eth and his needs were after already putting in a full – and often stressful and physically demanding – shift at work.

So as much as he did it for Eth. Because he was still just a kid – and a good kid and a strong kid and a brave kid. He really did it for Erin. Because it was another way to show her how much he cared about her. That he loved her. That he was there for her. And, he figured, if they could navigate this together – and what they'd navigated at work together and in life together so far – they'd likely be able to manage whatever other daily routines, challenges, arguments and obstacles that married life throw at them. They'd figure it out.

"Wanna pull up your shirt?" Jay put to Eth as he ripped open on of the rubbing alcohol swabs.

The kid looked at him with sad eyes. The fucking dog was giving him the same look. Jay was actually pretty sure the dog hated all of them for being the ones who put Eth throw this day after day after day. This look of accusation even though the fucking Bear didn't ever try to bite. He just usually ended up sucking up to Eth even more than any other given minute in the day. For such a hulk of an animal – ALREADY – he was a real fucking suck.

Eth did what he'd asked – further indication that the kid was spent. Because he usually had a commentary about this. A smart-ass comment or two. Some sort of short fight to delay getting the thing for a couple seconds more. Or at least that's the spiel he tried with Erin and with him. The amount of shit the kid pulled with his dad was significantly less.

Jay reached and swabbed at the muscle just above the kid's hip and then turned back to grab the needle off the nightstand. By the time he'd moved back to Eth, the kid was all clenched up.

"You showing off your abs?" Jay commented at him. It was meant as a joke. A little jab before the jab to get him to loosen up. But he didn't. So Jay took his needle-free hand and gave Eth a little poke in the stomach. The kid inadvertently allowed a little smile and a little yank away from the finger but didn't loosen up still. So the hand went smack over top of the kid's face – fingers spread – while he shook Eth's head back-and-forth a bit. "Stop flexing," Jay told him teasingly. He lifted his hand to get Eth's shit-eating grin but the stomach was still iron so he put his hand back down and teased him again. "Stop flexing." But the kid still didn't budge, so Jay gave him a warning look. "Kid, I want this to hurt as little as possible. I know you've got abs that are the envy of the seventh grade – but it's time to loosen up."

And he did – giving Jay a dirty look. But he ignored it and quickly jabbed the needle into him and gave him the injection of his nightly M.S. meds, pulling the needle out and grabbing at a piece of gauze to catch any brief gush of blood in the prick's wake.

"I don't have abs that are the envy of anyone," Eth said defiantly, Jay having to move the kid's hand to hold the gauze in place. He ignored the comment and took the needle, stepping across the hall to the bathroom to put it in the sharp disposal bin that Hank kept in there under the sink. "I'm basically the smallest person in my class," the kid called after him accusingly.

Jay gave a little sigh at that as he closed the cupboard door and moved back into Eth's room to retrieve the rest of the injection kit – readying it to take back downstairs to put up in one of the high cupboards that Voight kept all of Eth's medications in. He seemed to think that them being up there meant that Eth couldn't get at them. Or at least that it wasn't easy for him to get them. Jay got where he was coming from with that with Eth's bit of trouble he'd gotten into with his early – but brief - stint as a pharm pusher and Erin's less than glowing record with pills. But it also wasn't exactly a secure system for anyone and somehow it also seemed like they should be in a place a little more easily accessible for the kid given the amount of pain and level of nausea he was experiencing some days. Not that Eth would go looking for them anyway. Some days it seemed like all of them were trying to force the meds onto the kid in an effort to make things a bit easier.

"You really need to stop worrying about all that," Jay commented to him, as he repacked the little kit.

"But it's true," Eth pressed.

Jay cast him a look. "Yea, it's true," he agreed. "But it doesn't mean anything."

Eth squinted at him. "Yes it does," he argued. "Everyone is talking about it."

"About your abs?" Jay cocked an eyebrow at him.

"No. About stuff!" Eth corrected.

"About stuff …" Jay acknowledged of that big explanation. Helpful.

"One guy in my class said his balls are to his knees," Eth provided bluntly.

Jay cocked his eyebrow even more –this time with disgust. "OK," Jay said dismissively, "that kid needs to get to a doctor. He's got bigger problems than you right now."

Eth huffed and looked away. "Everyone's getting bigger and getting girlfriends and stuff – expect me," he muttered.

Jay rolled his eyes. "Ethan, you're in Grade Seven. You don't need or want a girlfriend. Girls are way too much trouble."

"You're dating Erin," he said.

Jay nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "And she's a whole lot of trouble."

Eth's head rotated to look at him. His eyes darting in careful examination. "What's that mean?"

Jay gave him a thin smile and his shoulder a little shake. "That she keeps me on my toes but that I wouldn't have been able to handle her when I was twelve. I wouldn't have known what to do with her." More days than not, he still didn't.

"You know what to do with her now?" Eth asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Sure," Jay shrugged. "Marry her but try my best to stay out of her way in the process."

Eth just kept looking at him. Clearly that trying to understand but no where near experienced enough in life – or with girls or relationships – to grasp it. Jay got that. He wasn't sure he was experienced enough relationships to quite get it either. But he was most definitely learning. Sometimes the hard way.

"So … lights out," Jay provided with a nod at the bedside lamp and started to head for the door.

"It's weird that you know how to do my injections but Justin doesn't," Eth said flatly behind him.

Jay paused and turned, giving the kid another small shrug. "Well, he's not here to learn," he allowed.

"But if he is, he won't," Ethan said even more flatly.

Jay gave him a frown. He wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that. Not without bad mouthing Justin to Eth, which even though he wasn't a fan of the guy, he tried to refrain from doing.

"Olive will likely want to learn," the kid muttered.

Jay shrugged. "Maybe. She seems like a nice enough girl."

Which maybe was a half-truth. He wasn't sure how he felt about Olive. Meeting her at Christmas, she'd seemed like a nice enough woman. And he'd overheard some bits of Voight having something that resembled conversations with her and the grandkid via Skype – which was usually more of Olive babbling, the kid gurgling and Voight grunting – and she'd seemed nice enough then. But the whole thing with Voight getting basically kidnapped, assaulted and robbed – in his own home, thanks to Olive running her mouth and then helping the assholes get into the place – scarred his opinion of her slightly. Even if she had a knife held to her unborn child. If she hadn't run her mouth in the first place – none of it likely would've ever happened. But it all actually went to Justin being the one to have really run his mouth in the first place. So another grand strike against him, in Jay's opinion.

"I don't like her touching me," Eth said and scrunched up his nose.

Jay let out a little repressed sound. He could appreciate that. He wasn't a big fan of being touched either. But the look on Eth's face? It just took his distaste to another level.

"Why not?"

"She kind of smells," Eth said flatly.

Jay did let out a little laugh at that. "Like what?"

"I guess diapers and baby puke," Ethan provided.

Jay gave him a thin smile. "That will likely pass in the next year or two. Or with each load of laundry."

Eth gazed at him. "She's like Justin," he said. "She tries to be nice to me because she thinks she's supposed to. But it's not really nice to me and it's just like … them trying to buy me or bribe something. To like … like them."

Jay stared at him – again trying to find the words to say but not really sure what to say. Going back to the old standby that sometimes if you didn't have something nice to say it was best not to say anything at all. Not that he usually bit his tongue that much. But he did try to keep it in perspective when it came to Eth. Rocking the boat with him had implications for his job and for his relationship. Two areas he didn't really want to screw up.

"I hope they don't move back," Eth near whispered.

Jay inwardly sighed at that. He didn't think that Ethan was the only one who felt that way. Erin didn't exactly seem thrilled by the possibility either. Though, she acknowledged that Voight would at least like to have his grandkid closer, if not his son.

Jay just thought the whole thing was stupid. On some level it pissed him off that Justin would get accepted into this program. That he might end up as a commissioned officer. It just seemed to speak volumes on topics that he didn't really want to dwell on.

But he was trying to keep it in perspective. Trying to keep it in perspective for Erin too. Sure – Justin had been accepted at UIC –his school of choice. But he still needed to get accepted into the cadet program there. And then after that got signed off on, his commanding officer still had to agree to release him into the Green to Gold program. It seemed like a whole lot to ask and there had to be better applicants who were way more deserving of those opportunities than Justin.

Erin had argued that Justin seemed to have a knack for getting things his way with minimal amount of effort. That he was smart. So smart that he never had to study but could still get good enough grades to scrap by –and apparently good enough to get accepted in a fucking engineering program at UIC. And that he had enough charisma that he usually caught the attention of the right (and wrong) kinds of people. And enough of a chip on his shoulder that he had the fucking balls to apply for this kind of opportunity and get his anticipated outcome the way he wanted.

The guy was a fucking asshole. Jay had known enough of them. In the army. In CPD. Hell … even Will exhibited some of the character traits. Maybe that was why Justin pissed him off so much.

"I don't think you should worry about it too much yet, bud," Jay had told the kid.

Because it was what he was telling himself and telling Erin too. Part of him wished that Voight hadn't told any of them that this was in the hopper. He got that Voight was trying to give everyone some time to adjust to this likely inevitability. But it just seemed like something no one wanted or needed to be thinking about right now. Not with Eth flat on his back again and not with Erin trying to act like the anniversary they were coming up on wasn't weighing heavily on her.

But Jay supposed Voight had had to give Erin and Eth something. They'd all seen Justin show up at District. Erin was bound to ask what the hell the guy wanted. And the idiot had gone and flaunted his presence in front of Eth too. So – yeah –there'd been questions. And even though Voight didn't like explaining himself, apparently he fault the need to explain the actions of his idiot son in this scenario.

"Dad will likely want to be spending way more time with J and H than me, if he comes home," Eth said.

Jay gave his head a little shake. "I don't think so, Eth. You're still home and a kid. Your brother's will have a job and school and the baby. They'll be busy and stuff. Your pop is pretty busy with work too."

"He likes J way better than me," Eth said dejectedly.

Jay frowned hard at that. He knew what it was like growing up feeling that way. But he also didn't think it was true with Voight. He definitely got the impression that Voight liked – loved – all his kids.

"Your dad really cares about you, Eth," Jay tried. "He loves you. It's pretty clear."

Eth gave him a pained look. "I didn't say love. I said like," he corrected with this quiet firmness. "And it's not fair because Justin doesn't even like dad. He says mean things about Dad all the time. When I've got way more reason to be mad at J and Dad."

"What do you mean?" Jay asked.

"That J didn't even have to go to jail for a year. And I didn't even do anything wrong and Dad basically sent me to jail for two and a half years," Ethan nearly seethed.

Jay took a deep breath at that. But Eth didn't give him a chance to find words that time.

"But I don't hate Dad," he said. "Even though sometimes he's … Dad … and he makes me angry. I like Dad. And I don't like that Justin tries to make me not like Dad."

Jay gave his head a little shake. "You're allowed to like your dad, Eth. That's not a bad thing."

"And he's always telling me to grow up but then treats me like a stupid little kid who doesn't know anything," Ethan seethed. "And I don't like."

"Yeah … that's understandable."

Ethan gave him a sad look and reached out to stroke the top of his dog's head. "Erin and you don't make me feel little and stupid like J and Olive do," he said quietly. "Even though you tell me off all the time."

Jay allowed a little smile at that. "Well, sometimes you do act pretty little and stupid."

Eth cast him a look that said he didn't like the tease but Jay's eyes really fell on the kid's hand that went from scratching at the dog to scratching at his back. He stepped back toward the bed.

"That rash acting up?" he asked and Eth just shrugged. "Let me see it," he ordered.

The kid barely budged so Jay took it upon himself to yank up the side of Eth's shirt a bit and stare at the splotches on the kid's side and back. He pressed his fingers into the kid's skin and watched the rash fade – a good sign. If it didn't, he'd be tossing the kid in the truck and getting him to the hospital.

"Let's check your temperature again," Jay muttered, grabbing the thermometer from where it was taking up space on the kid's nightstand from earlier in the evening. Better to be safe than sorry. If the rash weren't fading and he had a fever – they'd be getting back into medical emergency territory. If Eth fit even fifty per cent of that equation, he should call Voight or Erin. And he'd probably get Will or Natalie on the line too –just to cover his own ass in reassurance. He didn't want to be the one to miss a symptom flare and be the cause of a fallout.

"You already checked it tonight …" Eth disgruntled.

Jay shrugged and shoved the thing in the kid's ear anyway. "That was then. This is now."

As it beeped, he took it out and gazed at the number. Wasn't any higher than earlier. Tiny little fever. Pretty normal for a kid getting over meningitis, dealing with a flare, and who had M.S. But he still debated on if he should give Erin a call at least. An update. An excuse to send her a text. He supposed he didn't need an excuse. She was his fiancée.

But while he was still gazing at the number, debating the best course of action that wouldn't cause any needless freak-out, Eth said quietly, "Sometimes I think you care about me more than Justin."

Jay's eyes shifted to him at the comment. It hit him in a weird way. One that was unexpected.

"Ah …," he stumbled for a moment – because he knew he had to respond to this one. "I care about a lot of the things and people Erin cares about. She's important to me so what and who she cares about are important to me too."

And that much was true. He didn't have to bite his tongue or give a half-truth on that one.


	77. Best Friends

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 72 - BAKED.**

Erin made an annoyed noise as Ethan rolled over the side of her sofa and right on top of her – giving her that smart-ass look of his. She pushed at his body – shoving him away from her and herself away from the back cushions to give him room to fall into the gap between her and the back of the couch.

"Don't do that," she muttered at him – hardly giving him a look. Her attention was planted on her phone. She just so wasn't engaged in playing big sister or babysitter that night. He was there. She was there. That was about the extent of the effort he was getting in her supposed watching him.

"Why not?" Ethan muttered and squirmed around – kneeing and elbowing her more as he did.

She huffed at him and shifted a bit to give him the tinniest amount of more space – when what she really wanted to do was kick him right off the couch. She was there first. And she wanted the space. She wasn't about to get up and let him have it to himself and go sit in one of her chairs.

"Because it's my new couch," she grumbled at him. "You'll wreck it."

"No I won't," Ethan put back to her with some annoyed tone.

She just grunted at him. Didn't look at him. She wasn't going to argue with him about it. But if he did it again she'd really lay it into him.

He flopped his head on the pillow next to hers. Erin let out another annoyed breath and moved her head slightly so it wasn't as close to her baby brother's. She didn't need – or want – a tête-à-tête with him.

"I put on the Blues for you," Ethan informed her, gazing at her. "Because you're blue."

"You know I don't like you touching my turntable," was all Erin said to that.

"You didn't say not to," Ethan said.

"I shouldn't have to," Erin said more firmly. "You know I don't like you touching it."

"I'm not tremoring today," he said a bit more meekly.

"I don't care, Ethan," she hissed. "You scratch any of my vinyl and I'll be taking it out of your savings jar."

She felt him go quiet at that. Staring at her. There was a sadness to it. And it made her feel a little bad. But she also didn't.

She told him things and told him things and told him things. And 90 per cent of the time he didn't listen. And about 99 per cent of the time she had to repeat herself over and over and over again. Nothing fucking stuck with him. Not in his brain. Not with his selective hearing. Not with his "I'm cute but damaged so I can get away with anything" schit. She just didn't feel like dealing with it that night.

And she'd told Hank as much. That she was taking an Ethan break that week. She needed it. She wanted it. She just wanted her space. Time to herself when she wasn't at work.

But he'd apparently taken that as an indication that she needed even more supervision than usual. And that he was going to make that supervision be Ethan – if she wasn't going to let it be him or Jay. So he kept on dumping Ethan on her. Every night. Over and over. For stupid, dumb-ass shit. Paperwork and reports and meeting prep that he usually wouldn't give a shit about or could do at home. Now suddenly he was having to go into the District to do it after dinner or staying late into the night do sit in his office.

And what could she say? She could only argue with Hank so much about it. Any argument with him was usually a losing battle anyways. And she just didn't have the energy that week. She didn't have the emotional capacity for it.

So fine. Let him dump Ethan on her. But she wasn't going to be his entertainer. Or his tutor. Or whatever the fuck it was that she was supposed to be being. Let him do his thing and she'd do hers. Which pretty much involved staring at her phone or staring at the TV. When she'd really rather be laying in bed and trying to sleep through all this. Or better – going to the bar and drinking until she could forget. But if she did that one she'd be out of a job again and that time Hank might let her get it back.

"Don't be mean," Ethan put to her quietly.

"I'm not being mean," Erin pressed at him, finally giving him a glance. "You don't like when I touch your stuff. I don't like when you touch mine."

His sad eyes set on her for a long beat. "Sorry …" he finally allowed and seemed to sink further into the couch cushions.

She sighed. She didn't want to be a bitch to him. She just didn't have the patience. Didn't feel like coddling him or cuddling him or teasing him. She just wanted to be left alone. So she looked back at her phone again.

"What are you doing?" Ethan asked after staring at the screen from where he'd settled against her.

"What's it look like?" she asked.

"Facebook," Ethan said. Beat. "I thought you didn't like Facebook?"

She let out another annoyed grunt. She hated Facebook. She hated people posting about their lives and wanting to look at her life. To judge her and measure what had become of her life. But sometimes she liked to look at it. A bit of self torture. As she saw all the Mean Girls from high school posting pictures of their weddings and their babies and their fancy townhouses and fancier vacations. A reminder of what she was and what she wasn't and exactly where she was in her life. What she'd achieved and what she hadn't. And the facades she was still living. Or hiding behind.

"Don't you have homework to do?" she grunted.

"Not without your help," Ethan said, "and you said you weren't helping tonight."

"I'm not," Erin affirmed.

Ethan made a little noise but it wasn't angry. And even though it'd been a comment meant to push him away, he cuddled into her a bit more. His arm actually came around her and he gave her one of those little brother, cuddle monster hugs that she usually loved so much. There was something about little boy hugs that couldn't be beat – that usually seemed to fade away quickly by about thirteen or fourteen. Or at least they had with Justin. Teenaged boys weren't really cute or cuddly.

"Dad told me to make sure you aren't sad this week," he told her with this gentleness that she wasn't sure she knew he was capable of.

"I'm not sad," she sighed.

"You seem sad," Eth said.

She shifted and looked at him. His eyes were doing his lie detector thing. His struggle to read faces and intercept emotions. It took him a while. More than most. But he seemed to have a good sense about it. Even if it took him a while to place them.

"I'm OK," she provided and looked away. Because she didn't want to be under the microscope. Especially not her baby brother's. That was almost as bad as Hank's. In some ways it was worse.

"No, you're not. You're sad," Ethan said. "Dad says it's because this is when your friend died last year."

Erin felt a little catch in her breathing. A tightness in her chest. "Your dad talks too much," she muttered.

Ethan nuzzled at her head in his squirreling around again. "Dad hardly talks at all," he provided.

And she allowed a small noise and a little noise at that. It was true. Hank wasn't big on words. He was judicious with them and too the point.

"He needs to talk less," Erin provided anyway.

"He says that too. 'Ethan, filter'," he nodde against her.

"Mmm …," Erin agreed. "And maybe you should be using your filter and not telling me what Dad says."

Ethan shrugged. "Why? It's OK to be sad about your friend."

Erin sighed but held him a bit. Clutching at the elbow of the arm he had draped over her. "Let's stop talking about it," she said.

"Why?" Ethan pressed.

"Because I don't want to talk about it," she said a bit more firmly.

Ethan quieted at that. His breath hitting at her while he processed. He was so still that she actually gave him another small glance and his beady little eyes were still set on her.

"Being sad doesn't mean weak," Ethan said with this flat profoundness that struck at Erin again. "It just means you're a person. Everyone gets sad about hard stuff."

She sighed and looked away from him. "Ethan …"

He squirreled against her again and propped himself to gaze down at her. "Dad says that your friend dying was really sad and really hard for you but that it meant you were in a place where you could be a really good sister when I came home."

Erin gazed up at him. Trying to find words to respond to that. Trying to decide what would make Hank say that. Wanting to just tell Ethan that he should use his filter again but knowing that that wasn't the right response at all.

He flopped fully back onto her. So much so that she wasn't expecting it and that oomph of him briefly took her breath away.

"You've been a really good sister, Erin," he said. "You're basically my best friend."

She allowed a small snort at that but found her arms wrapping around him tighter. "Basically?" she teased quietly.

"Well, Bear's pretty good too," Ethan said.

"He's a dog," Erin said flatly.

"If I said Dad, you'd say he was my dad so he doesn't count either," her baby brother said.

She smiled against his shoulder. "I don't know. Your dad's my friend too. When he's not busy being my dad or my boss."

"Or grouchy," Ethan provided. "Because he's mostly just grouchy."

Erin allowed a quiet laugh at that and pushed at her brother a bit to get him off the top of her and shoved down into the edge of the couch again. She gave him a little smile.

"Do you want to tell me about your friend?" he asked. "Like you tell me about Mom? Because sometimes hearing about Mom makes me less sad. I think it makes Dad less said when he gets to tell a story about her too."

But her smile weakened a bit at that. Because she didn't know what to say. She could think of so many things to say. That Nadia was strong. And she was brave. And she was probably one of the best friends Erin had ever had. The most true. And she'd had a bright future ahead of her. Great things. And that she'd gone and got Nadia killed.

So she just shrugged and Eth and gave him a little frown. "You know," she allowed. "I think Nadia would've really loved you."

Ethan's eyes squinted at her. "Why?" he asked.

She allowed a little smile. "Because what's not to like?" she said and poked him hard in the ribs until he crunched to protect himself.

"Erin …" Eth groaned.

But it was true. Nadia would've been smitten with Ethan. She would've been amazed that Hank had a little boy. A younger boy. She would've thought Ethan was cute and goofy. And she would've loved an extra excuse to get Kuma burgers and to celebrate birthdays and holidays in a way that you can only do when you've got a kid under fourteen in your life. And she would've been friendly and doting and kind to him. And Ethan would've had another big sister in his life. Another best friend. Erin was sure of it. And Nadia would've been able to teach him about bravery and strength and guts and perseverance in her own way. Different ways than she could.

And all of that made her a little more sad that she was gone. And Ethan must've sensed that because he cuddled into her again. Giving her that little boy hug and cuddle.

"I'm sorry your friend died, Erin," he whispered. "It makes me sad too."

Her eyes watered a little. "Me too…" she allowed.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: I updated yesterday before the 24 hour mark. You might've missed the chapter just before this — Quickie. Those Eyes and Fingerprints were added within a 24 hour period as well. Please make sure you didn't miss them. Feedback is always appreciated.**


	78. Thirteenth Step

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET IN MAY. THERE ARE SOME SPOILERS REGARDING ETHAN'S ARC.**

Erin glanced behind her shoulder as Hank came down the stairs and gave her a small smile – a real one – as he took a seat in the arm chair and then stared at what she was watching on the television screen. But she kept eyeing him. Mostly because he looked happy – smitten nearly.

"Sleeping?" she asked.

Hank gave a little grunt in acknowledgement but turned and gave her a little smile. "He's spent," he allowed.

She smiled a little at that. But more at how content Hank looked. How genuinely pleased. He likely had good reason, though.

"Liking being a baseball dad again?" she put to him.

"Mmm …" he offered and shrugged, letting his gaze shift back to what was on the screen even though she knew he'd have absolutely no interest in what she'd picked to watch while he was upstairs with Ethan. If anything he was likely to mock it. "Not sure he liked it."

Erin cocked an eyebrow at him. "Sure looked like he was having fun to me," she said.

And it had. Ethan had seemed rather unsure getting on the field with the other kids from the Rehab Center for the first practice and "try out" of the disability youth softball league. But as the practice went on, she could see how much he was getting into it. How much the love of the sport – and the joy he got from participating it – was coming back to him.

Even though she knew he'd eventually agreed to give the first meet a try mostly to get his various therapist and doctors – and his dad – off his back about it. But maybe they had a point in pressuring and manipulating her baby brother into participating in the summer activity he'd once loved. Not just that but getting him some real physical activity and exercise outside of his physical therapy for the first time in nearly a year. Eth needed that.

But Hank just shrugged again. "We'll see," he muttered.

Erin gazed at him. "You aren't going to let him drop out," she said firmly – with a touch of disbelief.

But he just shrugged again. "If he hates it," he muttered. "Don't wanna fight with him about it all season."

Erin rolled her eyes. "What happened to the whole mantra about life being full of lots of things we don't want to do but you do them anyways?"

Hank looked at her more firmly. "Don't want to turn something he loves into something he hates. He decides he doesn't want to play after giving it a real shot …" he shrugged again – like it'd be a non-issue.

But it would be an issue. Especially with the way he was smiling that night.

Hank had liked seeing his son back out on the field – even if it was a paved one and even if he was playing with other kids in wheelchairs and on crutches and various braces and amputations and scars and about every other disability you could imagine – both seen and unseen - but didn't want to imagine these kids had to endure and make their way through life with. It wasn't too fair. But it seemed like programs like the disability softball was trying to make it a little more fair – and navigable for the kids.

Erin didn't think Ethan should be allowed to back away from that. Play out the season – and if he hated it, then not sign up next year. But she did understand Hank's point about not wanting to wreck something that was – and had been – so much a part of his childhood. Something that he was still able to enjoy, even if he wasn't playing, and something that Hank made time to try to share with him. He wouldn't want to risk losing that too. A piece of the father-son bond that he'd created with Ethan. They'd already lost so much when it came to Ethan. And poor Eth had too.

"He was hinting again about wanting to do the laser tag thing for his birthday," Hank said with marbles in his mouth, clearly trying to change the topic without completely shutting down conversation. He was good at that too usually, though.

Erin snorted at that and looked at him. "Ethan's making you soft, Hank," she put to him. He elongated his chin at that. "Know what we got for our birthdays?" He gave her a look. He clearly knew. "Dinner and cake of choice."

"Mmm …" he grunted. "And know what you always picked? Fucking 'classy' chicken."

Erin shrugged. "It's good."

"Fucking heart attack in a pan," he muttered, shaking his head and gazing at the TV for a moment and then shot his eyes to her. "You know Camille calling it 'classy' was the big joke, right?"

"Yeah, Hank," Erin rolled her eyes. "I get that a casserole is pretty far from classy."

"Mayo, curry powder and cheddar cheese?" he made a face at her.

"So simple and you still can't manage to make it," she teased him.

"Like I want to be able to make that shit. Literal shit. Looked like diarrhea in a pan," he muttered.

"Camille would not like you talking about her cooking that way," she put to him and he graced her with a small smile, shaking his head and rubbing his face while gazing off into some faraway distance.

"Been trying to remember if we did anything for J's thirteenth?" Hank said, still gazing off. Though, Erin realized his eyes had fallen on the bookshelf, staring at the few family photos up there.

"I think you got him a bike," Erin put flatly, "and I'm pretty sure we ate chicken wings. Out of a box. And spicy curly fries. Frozen."

Hank let out a quiet laugh at that and brought his eyes to her. "That sounds about right." He shook his head, seeming to have his memory stirred. "I remembered that bike . Fuck. He'd been at us for about two years about that thing. With the suspension, right?"

"Yea," Erin nodded.

"What the fuck did he need that for?" he shook his head again. "Didn't even have it a year. Got stolen."

"I remember that too," she nodded.

Hank had been pissed. Really pissed. Partially because of the price tag on the bike – but mostly because Justin had lent it to a friend – which Hank felt was stupid enough. But what had really pissed him off was that the loaner had been handed out without a lock sent along. The bike had gotten left outside on a street corner – not for long – but long enough for it to ride away. It was likely the start of a rather shaky relationship between Hank and Justin as he went through high school and his teens - and Hank's perception of how Justin didn't take care of his things and didn't have common sense.

Erin didn't say anything but it was probably a turning point in their relationship. She knew Hank often thought about how he might've fucked up the family – his kids – after Camille had died. How he'd been focused on getting Eth out of the hospital and then focused on trying to get him back into something that resembled a normal life and a functioning kid. That he'd taken his eyes off Justin and Erin in that period. Hadn't been as available to them during their grief – both at the loss of Camille and the loss of their little brother in a way. What all of it had meant for their family. But the truth was that the instability in Hank and Justin's relationship went farther back than that. Justin had done a lot of acting out as a teenager. Maybe it was because of suddenly having a little brother he didn't really want who was getting Mom and Dad's attention – and hers too. Or maybe it was just teenaged stuff. Maybe it was because there was a period where Hank was pretty deep into undercover and gangs and wouldn't be home for multiple nights in a row – if not longer. But whatever it was – Erin knew it wasn't just losing Camille that had caused Justin to loose his way. That lost bike was likely a starting point in the breakdown in Hank and Justin's communication, though.

She was pretty sure Hank didn't want to be told that, though. Not now. All these years later. She got the sense that since Eth had been home he'd done enough self-assessment as a parent and his techniques and failings anyways. He didn't need ones he might not have considered thrown at him. She could tell he was beating himself up enough about some of it – or all of it. And, that he was definitely trying a different approach with Eth. If not in terms of parents, at least in terms of how he was establishing and maintaining his relationship with him as he entered his teens. Whatever impact that might have in the long run. That was left to be seen.

"Hadn't thought about that bike for years," he rasped. "Be cheaper to get E a bike than this laser tag crap," he muttered. "You know how much that shit costs?"

Erin shrugged her shoulders a bit. "I have an idea," she allowed. She was pretty sure Jay had put down about $35 each for them in the winter. It wasn't exactly a cheapie family activity.

"Four Cs," Hank said. "Called a couple places and that's what they quoted me."

Erin gaped at him. "For the three of us?" she shook her head. "You must've been calling the paintball arenas or something. Trying to get you to buy the gear?"

"Nah, for a party," Hank muttered. "I think they said eight kids. Some places it was 10. Does he even have ten friends now?"

"I doubt it," Erin muttered.

"There's some of his buddies from Robotics," Hank speculated. "Maybe a couple kids from ball? Couple kids from the neighborhood?"

She shook her head at him. They both knew he was stretching but she didn't want to be the one to tell him that. She knew Hank worried about the little loner Ethan had become. Though, he'd done a good job at connecting with some of the younger kids in Robotics, it wasn't like he had invited any of them over to hangout – nor had he seemingly been invited over anywhere either. He didn't even seem to have any buddies in class that he chummed around with. He really seemed to do his own thing.

Maybe he'd meet some kids in ball. Kids he wouldn't be so awkward or shy around. But it was a little early to be thinking about that just yet. After the first practice?

"What about that Max kid from Robotics?" Hank tried again. "Maybe Holly next door."

She gave him a thin smile at his efforts. "Hank, if that's what he wants to do for his birthday, I think he likely just means you taking him. He's not asking for a party."

"Mmm …" Hank grunted. "Maybe he could have a few kids over here? Grill up some burgers and brats for them. Do it on a Saturday with a game. Let them sit around in front of the boob tube. Could go up to the park and screw around."

Erin gave him a little shrug. "Maybe …" though she didn't really know if that would work either. She didn't know who Eth would invite – beyond like he said: Max and Holly. And she wasn't so sure either of them would show either.

He just gave another grunt – like he knew what she was thinking, which was that this wasn't a very plausible plan either. Not if they didn't want Eth feeling lonely or hurt – again. Hank stared at the photos again for a long beat.

"How much it cost just to go out to one of the laser tag things?" he mumbled.

"The place we went, I think it was about thirty-five each," she provided. "And that was with a cop discount. Or a vet one. I'm not sure."

His eyes examined her in apparent discounted. "To shoot toy guns for twenty minutes?" he rasped with an edge.

"That's laser tag," she instructed. "We did some sort of Tactical Combat thing. It was set up like a mock urban war space. With them gearing you up and briefing you, we were in there about two hours. They put you throw a couple different scenarios … games. All considering, I guess it was a decent price for what it was."

"It's like that he wants to do then – not this laser tag stuff," Hank muttered.

She gave him a little shrug. "Likely."

"That adds up quick …" he said with a head shake.

"So just tell him that if that's what he wants, that's his present," she suggested.

Hank grunted again and made another dismissive gesture. "Already got his present."

"So tell him that …" Erin pressed. "Me and Jay can take him to the Tactical Combat thing again."

He gave her a look. "That's a lot of money for you guys to be spending on some Saturday activity," he said sternly.

She shrugged. "It was Jay's Christmas present to him. It can be our birthday present to him."

Hank just grunted again and looked away. "Something I do remember is all the shit some of those kids at that school gave you and Jay," he muttered. "You trying to keep up with the Jones'. J just acting like he didn't give a fuck and starting to run with all those little assholes every chance he got. Like he was some sort of tough guy."

Erin gave him a sad smile. "And we both survived St. Ignatius, Hank."

"Magoo's got a lotta years ahead of him there," he muttered. "I'd sort of like him to fit in some."

Erin lit out a little snort and his eyes found her – with warning. "This family usually doesn't give much of a shit about fitting in, Hank. It's not a value that was heavily pushed at us."

He made a sound of acknowledgement and went back to gazing at the picture across the room. "I'd like him to thrive then …"

"He is, Hank," Erin assured. "He's doin' real good."

"Wish some of the little fucks would see that too …" he muttered and pulled himself out of the chair wandering into the kitchen – and away from her. Conversation over.

But she wished some of the kids would see it too. Ethan was such a good and cool little kid. And as many steps forward they'd taken that year – the strides he'd made – she knew they all still had a long way to go. And sometimes that felt pretty far outside of all of their reaches.


	79. Jerk Off

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 77 - BEST FRIENDS.**

Hank whipped the ball far across the near vacant park – watching Bear go charging after it, his leash dragging behind him in his mad puppy bolt. It'd got it far that time. Would take the mutt at least a minute to grab the thing and bring it back to him, so he shoved his hands back into his pockets to warm some and leaned back against the still cold bench and looked at his son.

Eth was slurping on a Navel orange. It was about the most Hank had seen him eat in days – nearly a week. Getting him to keep anything down lately had been a chore. Citrus wasn't the best for the kid – not on his mouth, his gastrointestinal track or the bowels on coming out. But he wasn't going to be too pick about Magoo willingly eating anything at that point. And he figured him getting some Vitamin C into him at this point wasn't such a bad thing either.

"That a good one?" he asked.

Ethan chewed around the peel, gnawing at some straw bits that he hadn't managed to get off. "Yea …," he managed to sputter out, reaching and wiping at the dribbling juice on his chin with the back of his hand.

"Got a slice you can spare?" Hank asked.

Ethan a little begrudgingly peeled him off a slice and handed it too him. But Hank gave his kid a small smile and popped the whole thing in his mouth for a slow chew. It was a nice one. Good texture. Real sweet. He'd have to stop and pick up a couple more of the things for his boy while they still had a nice crate in. Hopefully it wasn't just a one-off.

Bear returned and stood in front of him with the ball. Hank reached to grab it but the mutt decided he wanted to play a bit of tug of war instead of fetch. Hank did the dog the courtesy of obliging that for a few good tugs while the mutt growled. But then he gave it a good yank and whipped it across the park again and again the mutt went barreling after it.

Hank gave his boy another look. He knew he was going to catch him a bit off guard here but that was how these things went. Never was a good time or best time. It really was just a matter of finding a time where your kid was a bit of a captive audience and you had some one-on-one and some privacy.

"Erin told me you'd been asking her some questions about some of this puberty and sex stuff again," Hank said flatly.

Ethan gave him a side-glance. "No," he said flatly.

"Mmm," Voight grunted. "Something 'bout some kid's balls being down to his knees."

E let out a sound and cast him another sideways look. "I said that to Jay and it wasn't a question," he said a little accusingly – like his confidence had been betrayed. And Voight supposed it had.

"He musta said something to Erin and she said something to me," he confirmed.

Ethan made another noise. "Well, I don't have anything to ask and I don't wanna talk about it with you," he muttered and then very clearly shoved another hunk of orange in his mouth in an effort to end the conversation.

Voight nodded. "Thing is, Magoo, Erin pretty rightfully feels that I should be taking the lead on these kinds of conversations. So, it'd make all our lives a bit easier and a little less awkward, if you came to me with your commentary or questions in the first place."

"Talking to you is awkward," E mumbled with his full mouth.

Voight shrugged. "Well, your sister is finding it pretty awkward talking to you about some of this stuff too. So we'd both appreciate if you came to me instead."

E cast him a look. "Erin knows more than you."

Voight made an amused sound and shook his head as he watched Bear charge back over to their bench.

Yeah. Erin might very well know more than him. Not really something he wanted to think about or dwell on too much. And she likely was more engaged in all the latest slang and lingo and social media sexting jargon bullshit – to know what the fuck kids were even talking about anymore. But Voight was just going to go with the fact that he had a whole lot more life experience and years on Earth than any of his kids – and had managed to have a wife of twenty years, father children, and raise them. So that counted for more than enough in terms of sex and intimacy as far as he was concerned.

"Magoo, I'm your father and I've got a dick so that's going to have to count as me knowing enough," he said, as he again retrieved the ball from the pooch and sent it flying.

E was still doing his best to ignore him but Hank measured him again. "So you want to talk about this balls thing?" he put to him. He was making it sound like an option. It wasn't.

"There's nothing to talk about," E said. "His balls are to his knees. That's all I said."

"Mmm …," Voight nodded. "And you get that your balls growing is basically likely going to be one of the first hints you've started puberty. So basically all that kid was doing was bragging that his balls have dropped and he's starting in on puberty."

E gave him a little glance.

"His balls stay at his knees and he should likely be having his folks take him to his pediatrician. Grown men don't have balls hanging to their knees. That'd be a fucking pain in the nuts."

He could feel his son struggle to hid a small smile at that. But the kid just swung his legs to kick at the dirt. Kid was still short enough that he could get a good swing. His feet didn't quite rest on the ground when he sat up on the bench. Hard to look at him sometimes and see the kid but then realize he was almost thirteen. These are the kinds of talks they needed to be having. Ones he was likely a little behind on with E having been away at boarding school and getting whatever sex education he got from boys his age or older. Not the place he really wanted his son getting information.

But thing was he hadn't had to do a lot of this type of talking. He'd glossed over the basics of it with Justin. Did the father-son talk. Man-to-man. Quick and dirty general overview of puberty. But the bulk of it? It'd been left to Camille. With both the kids. Not that Erin really needed a sex education by the time she'd come home. Though, she'd needed someone to talk to at times and to sort of re-educate her after some of the shit she'd gone through.

But Camille had horrified both the kids with the birds and the bees aspect of it. Hank had just stuck with the be safe, be respectful, don't be stupid aspect of it. They'd both just tried to drill into them some self-respect and self-worth and self-esteem – with a bit of self-restraint and personal dignity and level of understanding of what true intimacy was.

But the mechanics? That'd been mostly left to Camille. Voight wasn't really sure it qualified as a dominion he was particularly good at saying much of anything on. He didn't have a gentle enough touch in it. But he was pretty much E's choice.

Erin was taking more of the route Hank had gone – putting some of the be safe, be smart, be respectful lines. Telling him he was too young. Telling him not to get into situations were he was used or abused. And Hank could appreciate that. Those were older sister conversations. Good things for him to hear from a woman. Erin shouldn't be the one having to field his questions about dicks and balls and oral sex.

Hank scrubbed at his face for a moment. "Look, Ethan," he sighed. "I know kids in your class are at an age that you guys are talking about this stuff and some are bragging and saying shit and sharing shit that they probably shouldn't be. And some of it is just going to be real shit. It's not reflective of reality. So sometimes you're going to have to ask me or we're just going to have to start having sit downs every once and a while to sort this stuff out. I'd prefer it to be more of a Q and A than me doing some sort of National Geographic narration. But, that's going to depend on how much you participate in these things."

Magoo sat there. Voight thought that was likely the end of the conversation. He weighed whether he was going to push it farther that morning, as he scruffed behind Bear's ears and retrieved the ratty tennis ball to chuck again.

"One of them said he had a wet dream," Eth said quietly. "I kinda laughed but was kinda listening because I thought he was telling everyone he'd pissed his bed and why would you tell everyone that? But then some other guys said they had them too and some said they didn't because they blow their loads and …"

Ethan slouched back into the bench and gazed at the ground. Voight gave him a glance.

"So after your balls drop there, your body's going to start producing sperm too," he put flatly. "Only so much space in your nuts, right?" Eth gave him some side-eye. "So your not using that sperm, it's got to go somewhere."

"So if you're not having sex …" E muttered.

Hank shrugged. "If you aren't having sex, if you aren't jerking off – then you might have a wet dream. It just means your body ejaculates in your sleep. Not a big deal."

"But you basically wet the bed," Ethan said and cast him a look.

Voight shrugged. "Stickier clean-up but yeah." E squinted at him. "It's ejaculate, Ethan. Doesn't come out of your like a fire hose or a full bladder. Couple spoonfuls. Being generous here. Just a wet, sticky spot on your shorts and sheets. Toss it in the laundry. Done. It's a non-issue."

"But it means that if I'm not having sex or jerking off I'll basically be wetting my bed for the rest of my life?"

Voight gave another little grunt as he tossed the ball out into the field again. "Don't even know how much that helps. Your brother destroyed a water heater and lost chunks of his allowance to paying our water bill with how long he was spending in the shower every day. And the kid still had his sheets tossed down in the washer on a regular enough basis anyways. It's just part of going through puberty and being a teenager. Levels out eventually."

There was another long silence next to him and he glanced at Eth who was gazing at him with this awkward, semi-horrified look.

"I don't care if you masturbate, Magoo," he put flatly. "At least I won't unless you kill the hot water heater or start running up my water or hydro bill. Otherwise, you do it in private and you clean up after yourself and I don't give a shit. You're already doing it. Everyone does it. You don't have to sneak around about it." Eth gaped and looked away. "You spend nearly as long in the shower as your brother," Hank put flatly. "And you have your own private bedroom – so you don't need to be doing that."

Eth sat there for a long time, staring at the ground. "I don't think I'm doing it right," he said quietly. "From what kids say and like …"

Hank glanced at him again but could see how uncomfortable he was, so shifted his eyes back to Bear as he ran up. He pulled the ball away from him and set it in Eth's lap so the mutt would go to him and give the kid a bit of attention. Looked like he could use that.

"You lookin' at porn?" he asked bluntly. Eth just shrugged. And Hank let out an unimpressed noise. "Kids at the boarding school showing that to ya? Or it been at Iggy's?" Eth cast him a look. "That mean you found a way to get around the firewalls and parental controls at home?"

"Iggy's …" he said flatly.

"School computers or their phones and tablets and crap?"

Ethan just shrugged.

"Those look like real people to you?" he put to him.

"Well … they aren't like computer generated or anything …" Magoo tried.

Hank shook his head. "You see many guys walking around who look like the guys in those videos?"

"No …" Ethan said.

"So you think women in real every day life look anything like that?"

He scrunched his face. "No," he conceded.

"So likely the things they're doing don't look a hell of a lot like real life either, Ethan," he pushed at him firmly and then shook his head. "I know you're curious. I know you're going to look at it and get exposed to porn at various points in your life – but I'm telling you, I don't like you looking at it. I don't like what it's teaching you about sex. That it's not reflexive of what sex in a real relationship looks like. Their bodies are no proportioned in ways you're going to see in the average person on the street when they strip down. And, I don't think it's all that respectful to be looking at it. I'd prefer you didn't."

"But … it teaches you … to do it right," E offered.

"Sex?" Hank barked at him and shook his head. "Ethan—"

"To jerk off right," he said. "People look at it to do it."

Hank scrubbed at his face. "That's not a habit you want to get into," he put bluntly. "You'll do just fine without looking at that shit."

"But I'm doing it wrong," E pressed again. "Nothing happens."

Hank looked at him firmly. "Do you like the way it feels when you're doing it?" he put flatly but E quickly looked away. Grabbing the ball and throwing it as hard as he could. He got a good arc on it. It was a nice toss. The kid had an arm. Even now. Maybe he didn't want to know why. Likely wasn't all coming out of physical therapy and rehab with the way this conversation was going. "If you like the way it feels, you're doing it right," he provided.

"Some people say you're supposed to blow a load …"

"Yea," Hank said dismissively. "After you start puberty and you're producing sperm – you'll ejaculate when you're jerking off. Just like a wet dream. Just like sex."

"But I don't," E said.

"Because you haven't started puberty," Hank muttered. The dog had come back to him again.

"That's why they couldn't do that thing before the trial …?" he near whispered and Hank's eyes rotated to him.

He let out a little sigh at that. "You didn't act like you'd heard all that," he said. But E just shrugged. Hank reached and put his hand against the back of his son's neck and gave it a little squeeze. "The medicine you were on for the trial. Sometimes it can fuck up fertility. So the way your body makes sperm, which is what you need for if you're going to have a kid. You get that, right?"

"Yea …" E allowed but now rather than curious and embarrassed, he sounded defeated. All his attention had shifted to his mutt. But that's why they had the thing – for times like this.

"So since the drug does that, they gave me … us … the option of collecting some of your sperm that we could put away and freeze. For later. For if it did affect your fertility and for if when you're older you want to have some kids. But with your body not going through puberty yet there wasn't any easy way to collect the sperm and the other options were going to be super invasive and are a whole other experiment anyway. So we just didn't do that."

E gave him some side-eye. This cautious, sad look. "So I won't be able to have kids ever?"

Hank shrugged but gripped at his neck a bit tighter. "We aren't going to know until you actually do go through puberty, Magoo. Then we can get you tested if you want. Or maybe you'll decide that's not something you want to know or think too much about until you're older. So we'll just leave it. And even if you come back with a low sperm count, it's not necessarily going to have been from this drug. Some of your other M.S. meds can lower it and the disease is just going to make some aspects of you becoming a father a bit harder as the disease progresses. But me … your docs … we're all real hopeful that this medicine in the trial … that it will have really slowed down the progression. So it's going to make all kinds of stuff just easier and more normal for you in the future. As you grow up."

"So when will I ever start puberty?" E asked. "Because it seems like basically everyone is by now."

Hank threaded his hand through the thin bits on hair on the back of E's neck and then moved his hand to squeeze at his shoulder instead.

"You've got a couple challenges going on there, Magoo," he offered as gently as he could manage. "There's this gland up in your brain that basically tells all the hormones they need to get to work on that. But that gland, some of the scarring from when you hit your head, is pushing right against it. And that same area, when you get your M.S. flares – it gets all inflamed there too. So that gland just doesn't seem to be working quite right. It seems like it's having some trouble telling other parts of your body to get their asses in gear."

Ethan gave him a meek look. "But you guys are always saying not to worry about it. But if it's not working …"

Hank squeezed his shoulder a bit tighter. "Because your docs are saying not to worry about it yet, Ethan," he provided. "They're telling me that they aren't going to diagnosis as delayed puberty until you're fourteen and still showing no signs of starting in on it. And even then they're just going to monitor you for another two years or more before we start talking about treatment options."

"Treatment options? Like more IVs?"

Hank nodded but frowned. "They'll likely inject you with some hormones to try to get your body moving. Help it along."

"So why can't we do that now?" Eth asked with this low, sad voice.

"Because being twelve—"

"I'm almost thirteen. In like two months," he said.

"Even being thirteen – and a boy – and not having started puberty yet isn't that abnormal, Magoo," he said but held onto his shoulder tight. "So we're just going to try not to worry about it too much for another year or so."

Ethan cast him a sad look. "I never fit in, Dad."

Hank's hand moved to squeeze the back of his neck even more firmly than before. "E, some people are born to stand out."

 **AUTHOR NOTE — THE THREe CHAPTERS AHEAD OF THIS HAVE BEEN ADDED IN THE PAST 24 HOURS. Please make sure you didn't miss them. Reviews and feedback are much appreciated.**


	80. Special

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET IN MAY. THERE ARE SOME SPOILERS REGARDING ETHAN'S ARC.**

Erin honked the horn on the car as she saw Ethan trudging out of St. Ignatius. She'd messaged him that she was coming to pick him up but he wasn't acting like he was looking for her. He looked off in his own little world, headphones over his ears, and crutches moving at a snail's pace while he propelled himself along, gazing at the concrete like he just wanted to sink into himself and disappear.

She let out a little sigh at the sight of him. He definitely looked down. And she suspected it was more than the dreary day and the rain pouring down that was making him feel that way.

He'd seemed low most of that week. She wasn't sure if it was with the end of the Robotics season, he was settling back into more of a normal routine. He didn't have as much activity to fill his time and distract him. But it also seemed like with the end of the season, the supposed 'friends' he'd made on the team had faded into the woodwork rather quickly too. It wasn't too surprising to her. Most of the kids were older than him and it wasn't like he'd seemed like an integral part of the group – even if he had been a valued team member in the group he was placed with. But he clearly hadn't established himself enough that he was still moving in a crowd. She could hope, though, that all the kids were just exhausted after the season and were doing their best to recuperate too and finish up the school year. Maybe all of them were moving at the same snail's pace as Eth as they rested up.

Still, she pressed the heel of her hand into the horn again when he hadn't acknowledged her presence – holding it longer that time. As long as it took for him to register that it was being beeped over his blaring music and for him to glance over his shoulder. She waved through the windshield as the wipers cleared the rain and flashed the lights at him. He finally seemed to register who was sitting in the car and started his slow trudge over.

She leaned across the passenger seat and popped the door for him. But he just stood her, fumbling around with the crutches that seemed to be sticking to his forearms in the rain. He wasn't even wearing a jacket. Just a hoodie and it was doing nothing to protect him from the rain. Hank had likely made a good call in sending her over to pick him up – even though she'd been slightly annoyed by the assignment. It wasn't like because she was sitting at her desk she wasn't doing anything at work. And sometimes she hated taking time away from the job to deal with Eth. But it was just part of her other job – the big sister job that she'd fallen into. It carried a whole lot more responsibilities than she'd ever imagined. But she supposed it carried a lot of privileges too.

He finally handed the crutches to her – or more she took them from him – as he fumbled more to ram them into the car. She managed to shove them into the back seat while he flopped himself down into the seat and clearly struggled to get his lazy leg to follow him into the car. His arms fumbled more as he reached for the seatbelt to put around himself and to find the connector. She ended up holding it for him to help speed along the process as he shoved it in. But even as it connected, he went to gazing out the rain splotched windshield, not even acknowledging her presence.

Erin eyed him with some annoyance but he kept on ignoring her. So she reached out and knocked his headphones off his ears. The music blared loudly into the car as they fell away from his head and settled around his neck. He cast her daggers.

"You don't get to do the obnoxious teenager thing with me, Eth," she said. "At least save that bullshit a few more weeks."

"Whatever," he muttered and slumped his head against the passenger window.

She eyed him more. He looked little and hurt. A bit like a drowned rat. Or at least a wet dog. Just miserable.

"Your dad thought you could use a ride," she told him.

He did a half shrug. He really barely even managed that. Like doing a full shrug was just going to take too much effort.

"So where are we going?" she asked. Another shrug. She glared at him. "You going to come to District? You want to go to the boxing gym or RIC?"

"Home," he mumbled.

She let out a little sigh. "You sure?" she asked.

There was a barely distinguishable nod. But she saw it and she didn't argue with it – even though she knew Hank would likely be unimpressed that she'd dropped him off at the house and that he wasn't doing something productive with his late afternoon and early evening. Still, she thought Eth looked pretty beat and could likely use the rest – even if it meant he was probably going to sit and watch TV or play videogames until Hank rolled in the door. But maybe he needed a few afternoons of that.

So she flicked her blinker, checked the mirrors, and pulled away from the curb. She was likely going to be gone a bit longer than Hank anticipated if she was trucking him all the way up to the house. And she knew she'd likely go in and try to get him to injest a snack of some sort and let Bear out herself – because even though she knew Ethan likely would, she also knew he wouldn't stop the dog and wipe his feet when he let him back in and then Hank would blow a gusset about the muddy paw prints all over the house when he did get home.

"Want me to make you one of those black forest cake shakes when we get home?" asked him.

"You call it that but it's just cherries and cocoa powder," he mumbled.

"And you like it," she put to him firmly.

"So why don't you just call it a chocolate cherry smoothie?" Ethan pressed with this gruff teenaged edge.

"OK," she rolled her eyes. "You want me to make a chocolate cherry smoothie for you when we get home?"

"I know how to use a blender," he muttered.

"I was just trying to be nice," Erin put back to him with her own edge.

"No," Ethan countered, giving her a small glance with a bit of an evil eye. "You were trying to figure out a way to make me eat one of those protein powder packets. Like I'm stupid enough to know that you and Dad aren't dumping them in there."

She gave him stern eyes. "You don't eat enough protein. Your doctor says—"

"Whatever," he interrupted her, flopping his head back against the window again and trying to gaze after off into the distance – as much as the windshield wipers let him when they cleared the rain only to be removed to with the heavy drops moments later.

"You better work on that attitude before your dad gets home," she told him.

He gave her a little glance. "He workin' late if he's making you come get me?"

"No," she said. "Things were just quiet in the squad. It's raining. He likely knew you were dumb enough to be walking home in your hoodie." He made a noise, so she glanced at him. "Where's your jacket?"

"I didn't wear one today," he mumbled.

"Ethan," she chastised him. "It's not warm enough to be going around without a jacket yet. Especially you. You shouldn't get chilled. You know that."

"Yeah. Sure. Whatever, Mom," he said with complete tone.

She just rolled her eyes and glared out the window for the next couple miles.

"Want to tell me what's bothering you?" she asked after she'd managed to calm herself a bit. Enough so she wouldn't snap at him.

"Not really …" he muttered.

She gave him another brief examination but had to move her eyes back to the road. "How'd the math test go?" she asked.

He made a raspberry sound with his mouth. His tongue hanging out. She had thought that meant badly but then he went, "Try again."

She eyed him even more firmly at that. "You're being fucking rude, Ethan," she informed him.

He glanced at her and wrapped his head against the window as he looked at her. "They do the Mother-Son Dance when you were there?"

She'd forgotten about those things. St. Iggy's fucking Mother-Son Dances and Father-Daughter Dances. All set to happen around Mother's Day and than Father's Day. They weren't much more than an obscenely awkward fundraiser that the parents usually wanted to attend and the kids really didn't. It was an over-priced cafeteria meal put on by the hospitality kids and shitty music by some high school kid who thought they were a DJ.

She'd had the misfortune of attending one with Hank – thankfully only one. That she was pretty sure that Camille had forced him to go to. He'd looked even more unimpressed being at it than she was. A dance with Hank? And having to wear a dress? With all the fucking Mean Girls looking at her … them .. and tittering about her whole situation. It was fucking awful. She was pretty sure Camille had made Justin go to some of the Mother-Son ones with her. She was always excited about them. Erin wouldn't exactly say Justin matched her enthusiasm and there were some fucking awful photos around to prove it. He looked miserable in them. Camille almost looked so happy that Erin had to wonder if she was doing it just to piss Justin off. Sometimes Camille took a very different stance on the whole punishment and consequences and rights and responsibility applications than Hank. Her definition of 'some things in life you just have to learn, do, and put up with' included different categories than Hank's. Maybe some that were a little more real world or made them all seem a little more socially balanced. Whereas, Hank felt the best way for them to be a part of the school community was to hand them a bulk amount of their donation to the school for the year – and avoid all the ridiculous fundraising events. Camille didn't see with him eye-to-eye on that at all.

Erin's eyes shifted away from the road and found his again. There was a sadness there. She gave him a sad smile and a little shrug. "Yeah …" she allowed.

"We started our Mother's Day craft bullshit today," Ethan mumbled. "And they made all the guys decorate the invitation for the Mother-Son Dance to bring it home. Even us who don't have a mom."

"You have a mom," Erin told him a bit more gently.

"Had," he said flatly.

"She's still your mom," she put a little more firmly.

He shrugged. "She's not here."

Erin sighed and gazed at the road, getting them through another intersection. "There's lots of other kids at the school who don't have a mom for whatever reason, Eth," she said. "Divorce or … whatever."

"There's more who don't have a dad," he said. "That's more normal."

"Well, maybe you should be pretty thankful you've got a dad," she suggested firmly. "You've still got one of your parents and he's a good one."

"Yeah … but they don't have a Father-Son Dance. Because that would just be fucking weird."

She glanced at him. "I think they have a Father-Son something around Father's Day, don't they?"

"I don't know," Ethan mumbled.

"Well, isn't there some Mother-Daughter thing for Mother's Day?"

"Some tea party or something," Ethan muttered. "It sounds super lame."

"The dances are pretty lame too," she assured him. "There's lots of kids who won't want to go."

He just gave her a look. She wouldn't say it was disbelief or disagreement. It was just this hurt look to it.

She let out a little sigh and drummed at the wheel for a moment before glancing back to him. "You know they make all the guys do the invitation because it doesn't have to be your mom you take," she said. "It could be a grandma or aunt … or sister …"

He glanced at her. "You don't want to go," he mumbled.

"Maybe I do," she contended. "If someone handed me an invitation and invited me …"

He eyed her. She could see him processing it. She sort of hated that because part of her so didn't want to go. But the other reality was – maybe Hank and Camille really had taught her a lot about sucking it up and just doing shit you didn't want to do when it came to family. And the real reality was – for Ethan … she'd do just about anything.

But then his head flopped back against the window. "Then people would likely think you're my mom and you'd do the whole dirty look and 'he's my little brother' thing."

She snorted at that. "I'm pretty sure most people at your school know our status, Ethan," she mumbled.

"People would be looking at us," he mumbled.

"So what?" she pressed at him. "You think people didn't look and whisper and say shit when I had to go to those dances with your dad?"

"So – he's your dad too," Ethan mumbled more.

Erin flared her nostrils and shook her head. "Teenaged kids at a fucking conservative Catholic private school didn't quite see it that way, Eth," she said quietly with her own regret.

There were so many times she wondered if things would've been different if she hadn't created a fantasy to live at St. Ignatius. If she hadn't said Hank was her god-father and that her parents were off travelling through Europe. If she'd been more honest. Made it more of a little white lie that became a reality anyways – that Hank and Camille were her parents, that the family had gotten a bursary, that she was new to the neighborhood and new to the school. Just leave out the whole guardianship thing. Though, they likely would've figured that out just as fast – or faster – anyways. And proclaiming at the top of your lungs that you were one of the bursary kids at St. Iggy's wasn't exactly something you wanted to do either. Especially when Erin knew that neither her, Justin or Ethan had gotten heir bursaries at the school based on merit. It was purely based on Hank and Camille's relationship with Father Caruso.

But Ethan was right. Hank was her dad too. They all acknowledged that. It was just that most of the time it went unspoken. But she supposed you didn't really need to talk about who your parents were in most cases – not within your own family. It was just kind of an underlying reality in the family life. He was the guy who raised her. He still provided a safe place for her. When she needed to go home – it was to him and that house she'd spent her teens in. When she was in big shit – it was him she called or talked to – even though she hated disappointing him. The dynamic was changing slightly now with her and Jay's relationship. Where Jay was felt like home –just as much as going home felt like home. And more often than not – when she was in shit or needed someone to talk to – it was Jay who she bounced ideas off of and leaned on first. But that didn't change the fact that Hank was her dad. It never would.

"Yeah … exactly …" Ethan mumbled. "So they won't see us in some good way either. They won't get it."

"So what?" Erin put to him again. "Who cares what they think? We'll go eat some rubber chicken. Have some fun. Fuck 'em."

He gave her a thin smile but shook his head and went back to staring out the rain-soaked window. "It's not even that," he mumbled. "It's just like … they're always finding ways to make me stand out. To feel different. Always."

She reached over and gave his shoulder a little squeeze. "Sometimes different means special, Eth," she tried.

"Yea … they think I'm pretty 'special'," he muttered and than reached and pulled his headphones back over his ears.


	81. Nice Thought

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 80 - FINGERPRINTS.**

Jay leaned against the counter and stared at Erin. She had her arms crossed over her chest and was giving her that defiant look – that one that said she wasn't going to let him win. But he didn't think he was going to let her win this one either.

"Erin," he said sternly, "we don't have a real estate agent. We aren't pre-approved for a mortgage. We don't have enough together yet for a down payment."

"You said you had $25K you could put in," she pushed back at him.

"Yea," he huffed. "But that's like all in. We're talking clearing out my savings account. No padding."

She rubbed at her eyebrow. "I'll get a tenant at my condo," she said. "It will give us enough for monthly payments here."

"And what about your payments there?" he said. She sighed heavily and looked around the kitchen again. "Erin, we're just looking. That's what we said. Seeing what's on the market."

"Jay," she pressed back at him, "these places we've been looking at – they're on the market all of three weeks."

"And more places will be on the market when we're actually ready to do this," he argued.

Her arms gripped around her again. "The prices are going to keep going up," she said. "We can afford this."

"We can't afford this," he said sternly. "Not right now. Maybe … a year from now. Like we talked about. You said that's what you wanted to do anyways. Move in. Save. Married. Then get a place."

"This place isn't going to be here in a year or two," she spat at him.

"There will be other places," he told her.

"Not here," she argued even harder.

He sighed at her and leaned even more against the counter, crossing is own arms over his chest. He looked around the main floor of the townhouse again on his own.

He was almost regretting that he'd dragged her into this exercise. She'd initially said no. Wasn't interested. Loved her condo. She wasn't budging. Wasn't going to talk about budging until the wedding was out of the way and they'd been officially together for a while. Until she was really and truly convinced he wasn't going to bail on her. That they were honestly making a go of this and it was really going to work. Or they were going to do their damnedest to make it work.

But he'd conned her into looking at one place. After brunch. They were near an open house in an area that he was interested it. It was an easy enough sell. She'd rolled her eyes at him. But had tagged along and looked. But that initially look had lead to looking at more places. And more neighborhoods and different options and types of homes and prices.

It was only so serious. Because they really were just looking. Themselves. They didn't have a real estate agent. They hadn't gone into the bank. They'd barely done the online mortgage calculator thing and the "how much can you put in" talk. It was more internet browsing while they were chilling out at night. It was still fucking pie in the sky. Even if it made things feel a little more serious. Like they were going the directions they were supposed to be going. Talking about and thinking about things they were supposed to be. Like they were imagining a future.

Thing was – they were supposed to be planning more than this. This wasn't some spur of the moment decision thing. It needed forethought and organization. But Erin had fallen into it way more than he'd expected.

And now they were standing in the second townhouse of the day – both in the same development in a neighborhood that she suddenly seemed very interested in. And in a home – after saying she wasn't interested in a "house" – that she seemed to be refusing to budge from. He could basically see her heels digging into the tiling on the kitchen floor.

"OK," he held his hand up in some surrender. "Let's take the money aspect out of it for a second. How are you going to feel living this far away from your family?"

She full-on rolled her eyes at him. "Jay, it's Roscoe Village," she nearly spat.

"Yea," he nodded. "And exactly how far have you lived from Hank in your adult life?"

She glared. "I think I can manage being all of 12 miles away from Hank and Camille's house," she snarked at him. "Actually, you're right, maybe we should be looking farther away."

He cocked his head at her. "Erin," he pressed. "You're over there multiple nights a week. We're over there almost every weekend."

"IT'S ROSCOE VILLAGE, JAY," she pressed back at him in staccato. "It's not the fucking 'burbs."

He sighed at her. "It's a bigger trip on transit than Voight will let Eth take right now," he provided.

She shrugged like that didn't matter. But it fucking mattered. All three of them were enough of a fucking taxi service for the kid right now. Jay didn't want to be a taxi service that involved extra commutes like that on a regular basis. Especially, when part of Erin's sudden willingness to look at places rooted out of her feeling claustrophobic when Eth was at her place. One bedroom with a kid that age wasn't that ideal – especially on the nights he ended up staying over. Made it awkward for Jay to stay over those nights too, which annoyed both him and Erin. If they were thinking about getting a place sooner rather than later because she wanted something more Ethan friendly – they should live in a place that the kid could at least get to without adding to the burden of their mandatory babysitting service.

"Well, I think maybe before we go jumping at anything – maybe we should think about at least looking at some places in the Villages," Jay put to her bluntly.

She let out a giant sigh and looked at the ceiling. "I don't want to live in fucking Little Italy, Jay."

"Erin, for the price of this place we could get a fucking three bedroom," he pressed.

"Hmm," she nodded, drilling her eyes into him. "Right. And why don't we just live down the street from Hank and Ethan while we're at it."

He nodded. "And, yeah, that," he agreed. "That's not such a bad idea until things stabilized out with Eth a bit more and he's a bit older. And it might not be so awful when we've got a couple kids of our own too – and they both can pay us back for the babysitting duty we've been putting in lately."

"Jay, University Village and Village Italia is overrun with two kinds of people. University students and people who know Hank. AND," she pressed at him. "We can't afford a house there. We'd only be getting a condo. You want a house."

He gestured dismissively at their surroundings. "This is a condo. It's just packaged in a townhouse."

"Three floors, two bedrooms, a balcony, a garage," she counted off on her fingers. "There's a deck, Jay. With a barbecue," she stressed at him, which made him regret how much he'd ever bemoaned the fact that Voight had a deck with patio furniture and a fucking massive grill that Jay would love to get the opportunity to get behind but it'd been made more than clear that he wasn't to get anywhere near it. "Laundry in suite. Central air. Did you see the fucking walk-in closet in the second bedroom? That could be a home office."

"What do we need a home office for?" he put to her.

She rolled her eyes. "This is a house, Jay. You wanted a house."

"It's two bedrooms," he argued back. She shrugged at him and made a face. He cocked his head at her. "So let's say in two years we have a kid – then we're right back to where we are now. Not enough space when Eth is around. And when isn't Eth around?"

She rubbed at her eyebrow again frustratedly. "He'll be like fifteen or sixteen. He's not going to want anything to do wit us. Especially if there's a baby around."

"I'm pretty sure even if there's a baby around we're going to spend a long time being the preferable option over his dad, Erin," he said. "They're going to fight and they're going to need a break from each other. And if he's going to be hang around our place – then I need my fucking space from him too and that means we need one more extra bedroom beyond whatever you're thinking."

She groaned at him.

"And if we're thinking of this as more of a like three to five year investment and like a starter house, we probably want more than two bedrooms anyways, even if we take Ethan out of the equation," he added.

"Why?" she groaned annoyedily, looking around the space again, like she was trying to reconcile that this wasn't going to happen the way she wanted. Though, she mostly glared at the other couple who'd just come in and was being lead to the upper level. The real estate agent hosting the open house cast them a look. She was likely hoping they'd leave. Soon. They were disturbing the other walk-ins with their hated discussion and probably didn't seem like the strongest potential buyers. Jay also got the impression that their attire didn't scream the kind of people they were looking to sell to either. Not quite spick and span enough.

"Because did you like sharing bedrooms when you were a kid? Did that seem to work real well with Eth and Justin? Because I know I sure hated having to bunk with Will. And I'd prefer my kids to get their own space."

She shook her head and looked at the floor. "We're talking about a house, not how many kids we might have," she muttered.

Jay sighed. He pretty much felt the discussion went hand-in-hand. But this wasn't exactly the place to have that blow out conversation.

"I really think we should go back and look at some places in the Ukrainian Village a bit more," he tried more gently. "Not make some hasty decision."

She tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and gazed at him. "Jay, we're only going to be able to afford a condo there too."

"Yea," he agreed. "But it's a nice neighborhood—"

"It's so fucking trendy right now," she moaned at him. "You'll hate it."

"It has character," he pressed firmly.

"Character?" she put back to him, arching her eyebrow. "You mean all the buildings are from at least 1902."

"The buildings, the streets – it still feels like the real Chicago, Erin," he said.

"OK," she shrugged defiantly. "But that's not the kind of 'character' I want, Jay. Because you know how you think it'd be great to have a nice fixer-upper like Hank? I don't. Because we're going to be exactly like Hank. We'll be too busy with work and whatever kids we do procreate to ever fix that rattling window or be able to afford to renovate that bathroom or even get the fucking A/C unit and out of the window each summer and fall."

"So you'd rather live in something that just feels like some fucking condo development up here?" he pressed back. "The transit points in the Ukrainian Village are better. And it's a whole lot closer to your dad and Eth. And that will make stuff easier for us and them over the next few years."

She let out a long sigh and went back to gazing at the gas fireplace off in the corner of the living space – like suddenly she'd decided the faux mantel she had in her condo wasn't enough and having a real fireplace was about the nth level of status. But he wasn't sure he got it. It was like her condo now. How much of it was fake - her putting up appearances - versus who she was and what she was or what she wanted to be. Was this place really her? Was it him?

Yeah ... they'd had a couple nice afternoon outings up to Roscoe at that point. He could sort of see the appeal. It had a decent vibe. It was a little yuppie. But maybe in a way they were sort of getting to that stage of their life. They weren't in their twenties anymore. They were talking marriage and kids and long-term. Neither of them wanted to move out of the city and into the 'burbs. And this was a nice, clean, safe neighborhood. Maybe it was a little too sanitized for Jay's liking. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. If it suited who he was. If it reminded him too much of false facades that he'd been forced to live behind in his childhood and didn't want to live under now in married life or raising his own kids.

But maybe the squeaky clean, sparking new, granite countertops and gas fireplace and ensuite laundry machines and walk-in closets was what Erin needed after all the shit Bunny put her through. Something that felt a little upper class - even if it really was pretty much young professional sort of upper middle class (which might be sort of beyond their means on CPD salaries with the number of years they had on the job). He wasn't sure he totally got that. Especially with what Voight's house looked like and what kind of upbringing he got the sense she'd had there. They were working class people in a working class neighborhood, not living a fancy or flashy life. Not that this was fancy or flashy. But it was different than maybe what Jay imagined. Different than where he saw himself raising a family or settling down in the city.

That said, though, they'd hung around the neighborhood. There were some cool record stores, which was becoming one of their things. They could easily lose an afternoon just looking through vinyl and then going back to Erin's place and listening to some little gem they'd dug out of the milk crates. They'd spotted a bar they'd both heard about - known for its live music - and they'd skipped out of Molly's one night when they'd been Eth free and made the trek up to Roscoe to put in their evening there instead. And it'd been great. So much better than their usual scene. Just a change. And he'd liked that.

The thrift and antique and off-the-wall knick-knack shops that Erin seemed keen on looking at just lined the streets too. He wasn't much for "stuff" - but he wasn't opposed to browsing because she was fun about it. She looked at and bought the randomest shit. It was kind of funny. Some of the crap she had lining her shelves and hanging on her walls baffled him. But he got that that was a remnant of her upbringing too. A lack of stuff had been replaced with a pertinence for weird fucking shit. He'd picked up some of early on in visits to her place and asked if she'd been to Mexico or Peru or Thailand or Vietnam. And no - it was always she'd been to such and such shop on such and such street or this antique market or that flea market or "can you believe someone put that out to the curb?" And, yeah, he could. But it was kind of endearing in its own way too.

They'd had some good coffee. They'd had some decent lunch. They'd had some great brunch. It didn't have a bad vibe at all. He liked seeing people his age around - who looked like they were doing something with their lives. He liked seeing kids on bikes and scooters and in strollers. Liked thinking that maybe a couple years down the road that could be them. Liked that they could walk down to the lake. Even fucking liked knowing that he could tease Eth that the Cubs would basically be their neighbor. Which wasn't entirely true but he knew it'd get the kid going. Put in for adoption or something. But fuck - it was like a mile and a half a way. They had tickets - Hank bought tickets for the kid - they'd be able to dump the car in the garage and just walk over. That'd be fucking awesome. Could likely even make some last minute decisions and hit the Bleachers some games. He'd love that. Eth would love that. Erin would tolerate it.

So maybe he didn't hate it. It's just that it was ... Roscoe Village. In a townhouse community.

"I could see us living here, Jay," Erin muttered. "Raising a family here. Not just this house. This neighborhood. I haven't felt that way about other places we looked at. I haven't really felt that way ever. But this," she said and gestured around the semi-new space – or at least freshly sparkling space even if the building was already 20 years old. "It feels like a fresh start. For me. Or us. Maybe for Hank and Ethan too. Or own space. Own life. Own family."

He sighed and let his ass press into the granite counter of the breakfast island even more. Because what the hell was he supposed to say to argue with that?

"It's a nice thought," he admitted. "You and me."

She gazed at him. "This. It can be more than a thought, Jay ..."

 **AUTHOR NOTE: The four chapters before this got added over the weekend. A lot of people missed some of them. Please make sure you didn't. reviews and feedback are appreciated.**


	82. Fingerprints

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 75 - SPECIAL.**

"Can I take Bear out for a walk?" Hank heard Magoo ask and glanced in his direction from his work. Both his son and the mutt were looking at him with hopeful eyes.

The dog had become so attached to E. It was interesting to see. A real bond. Didn't know if it was because the boy was sick and the mutt had a sixth sense about that or if the mutt just had figured out he had the most luck manipulating the youngest one hanging around. But either way, it was nice to see. What had been hoped for in getting the thing for the kid. Letting it stick around and not running it out of the house.

Still, Hank gave a little sigh – even though his boy was trying to put some effort into helping out with the dog. Doing some real effort now that the snow was gone and the Robotics team wasn't running him ragged. Wasn't just letting the dog in back. Was wanting to take him for walks or down to the park. Run him around. Toss the ball. Get some real exercise and physical activity – which Voight wasn't opposed to for the mutt or his kid. But, glancing at his watch, it was getting late. It'd be starting to get dark. And, even though, they lived in a decent enough neighborhood – a good block – he didn't much like E up at the park at dusk. And tended to tag along when he had the dog out anyway. Bear was still learning how to walk on a leash and was only so good at listening. Had enough bulk to him anymore that even a half-hearted yank really tugged at Magoo – especially with those damn crutches. Worse if Eth decided he was doing well enough that day that he didn't see him. Mutt could really knock him off his balance then.

"It's getting near lights out, Magoo," Hank put back to him.

"Just a short one," E said. "I'm done my worksheet."

"Mmm …" Hank allowed and sat back in his at his desk, folding his hands. "Let's see it."

E gave him a little sigh of his own but headed back into the dining room to retrieve the homework. Gave Hank enough time to flip shut the files and paperwork he had going on. His kid didn't need to be catching glimpses of any of that.

When his son returned, he handed him the assignment sheets, his backpack sagging in one hand. Hank scrubbed at his face a bit and looked over the worksheets. Sad reality was that they didn't mean much of anything to him. He wondered when seventh grade math got so fucking complicated. He was sure they had the kids doing stuff that he sure was fuck wasn't doing in middle school. He did a pretty half-assed job when E needed help with the math homework – especially these units as they got toward the end of the school year. He wasn't really checking to see if it looked like the kid had grasped the concept and filled in any correct answers. He was just checking to see that he'd actually filled in all the answers. That the sheets were done. The kid had been sitting there long enough pouring over them.

After flipping through the pages and giving himself a small amount of time to skim down each sheet – to make it actually look like he was looking at something – he held it back toward his boy and nodded at the pack. "What other homework you got in there?" he asked.

"Just reading tonight," E said.

Voight ran his tongue around the front of his teeth. "That it?" he asked.

Wasn't sure he bought it. The poor kid usually had no shortage of homework. But Ethan just shrugged at him. "We're supposed to working on that Civics project," Eth allowed carefully.

"You do any work on that tonight?" Hank put to him.

"No …" E admitted.

"Hmm …," he allowed and glanced at his watch again. Kid had about an 45 minutes until lights out. Or at least until he had his ass upstairs and attempted to get him through a few pages of the latest book they were making the kids study. Impossible to keep Magoo up with the rest of the class. But as high of a pedestal he put the kid's education on, he liked making sure he had some time to decompress. Didn't like running the kid into the ground. That was just asking for trouble. "Let me take a look at your agenda," he said and stuck out his hand for the bag.

Magoo huffed a little at him but provided the backpack for him to riffle through, taking up a seat next to the desk. Voight dug around in the thing. It was pretty empty that night. A bit of a change of pace. Maybe Robotics season being over wasn't all bad. Seemed like Magoo was getting more done during school hours and wasn't ending up with quite the same pile of homework each night. Likely because he wasn't as exhausted during the day to actually focus, concentrate and get something done when he was sitting in the classroom or with one of the educational assistants or tutors. There hadn't been as many notes about him being a grumbly, stand-off-ish, over-tired little fuck to them either. Just the usual stubborn mule that he was.

He grabbed the agenda to see if anything had been written down in it that day – about his boy's attitude or upcoming projects or homework due the next day – that hadn't been posted in the school portal. He preferred the old fashioned way of keeping up with his kid's schooling anyway. Monitoring it all online just felt a little too much like parenting by remote to him. He'd done that experiment while E had been at boarding school. It'd failed badly. He was home. He was here. Hank was goin' be hands on.

As he pulled out the book, something fell out from between the pages and Hank reached back into the pack to retrieve it. He looked at the little craft project. A necklace by the looks of it. A piece of plaster – a fingerprint pressed into it before it was baked and then painted. A black piece of twine roped through the hole at the top with a bead as an additional decorations and some slipknots that looked like E had had trouble managing his fine motor skills to get tied and like no one had helped him get them a bit better. The string was then looped around punched holes in a cut piece posterboard. Eth's poor penmanship had scrawled out some poem about all the dirty fingerprints kids leave all over your house – walls, windows, mirrors. How someday you, as a parent, would be missing all that mess. How you'd eventually wipe them off for the last time and they'd just be gone.

Hank cast his son a look. He looked sad and reached to try to take it from him but Hank drew it closer to himself. Holding it tight. "What's this?" he put to him.

E just shrugged and examined his feet. "Just some craft they made us do in art class," he near whispered.

"Mmm …" Hank acknowledged and looked at it again. He pressed his own thumbprint over the mark his son's had left in the clay. His boy's hands were still so small – like the rest of him. Hank's thumb easily took up nearly the whole piece of flattened clay – not just the mark left by his boy. "Mother's Day …" he allowed.

E gave a small shrug again. "I guess they want us to give it to like … our moms or whatever … so they are all guilt-tripped into wearing them to the stupid dance," he muttered. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it."

Hank gave him a little frown and sat back in his chair. They didn't really talk about Mother's Day much. Acknowledge it. There wasn't a point. Or there was a point – but it wasn't something Hank much wanted to acknowledge. Not now. Made his head go back into those places he preferred to not let himself dwell on too much. Not in front of his kids.

Mother's Day had been a much bigger thing when they actually had a mother there to celebrate and honor and appreciate. He made sure Camille got doted on that day. Like she deserved. Big breakfast. Nice dinner. Cards from the kids. Flowers – or usually flowers for the planters out front. Help her out with getting that done up the way she wanted. The whole nine yards.

Now about the most he did was make a trip to the cemetery. Take some flowers there. Have one of their chats. Let her tell him how he was fucking up and how to pull his head out of his ass this time around. Maybe get a small glimmer that he was doing something right or that she was still proud of him. But mostly it just made him a little sad and lonely. Berate himself on his biggest fuck up of all – letting something happen to her. Losing her. Leaving his kids without a mother.

Kids needed their mother. Wasn't fair E was growing up without one. Wasn't right that J didn't have one in his 20s to guide him more on how to make a family, how to treat a wife, how to be a father. For Erin not to have Camille to do this wedding planning with. To tell her it was OK to be hitting thirty and not have a baby yet. That she'd have the family she wanted when she was ready and that she'd get the family she was meant to have. Just give it time. For little Henry to have a grandma to dote on and spoil him – in the way only a nana could.

So now rather than dwell on it – he did his best to treat Mother's Day like some sort of commercialized holiday. Not a real one. Not one that needed to be acknowledged in their house. Had managed it pretty good too. E had made some comments about crafts or cards made at school before – when he was littler. But he'd been away in school. His memory and retention was so fucked. A lot of time, it was mostly just a passing comment or devolved into one of his damaged moments where he asked "When's Mom coming home?" And that just lead to a whole different conversation. One that was harder but had become so rehearsed anymore that Voight knew the entire script. He knew what his boy needed hear to move past that bleep. That lack of closure that no matter how many times they seemed to have the conversation, it didn't seem like he could ever give the boy. And, he was starting to wonder if he ever would. Maybe it was the kind of thing that there wasn't closure for. Hank wasn't sure he felt like he had closure. He wasn't sure his family had had justice. Even his own style of Chicago justice.

"You can have it, if you want," his boy offered meekly as Hank continued to stare at the piece of makeshift jewelry.

He glanced at his boy and gave him a weak smile – and then gestured off through the front room. Off toward the staircase. "Got your brother's and sister's fingerprints all over that wall," he said of the support above the staircase that the damn kids were always smacking on their way down.

E looked. "Mine aren't there," he said.

"Mmm …," Voight grunted and looked back at the craft. "As soon as you're tall enough to be putting your fingerprints up there, you're going to be the one cleaning it for me too."

Magoo gave him an annoyed noise. But Voight just shot him a look and handed the card and the necklace over to him. "Maybe your sister will want it for the dance," he suggested.

E squinted at him. "We aren't going," he said firmly.

"Why not? Erin said she'd take ya," Hank put back to his son.

E shook his head and gazed at the necklace, fingering at it. "It'd be weird."

"Only as weird as you make it," Hank said.

E cast him a look. "I don't think people at school really like us, Dad," he mumbled.

Voight grunted. "Why's that?"

"Cuz people don't like cops," Ethan put flatly.

"Mmm …" Voight allowed and his son looked up at him.

"It's neat," he said of the necklace, "how it baked it and how the gel paint made it all visible. It's like science. Forensics."

Hank allowed a quiet amused sound at that and sat forward a bit to look at it too. "See," he said. "They like cops just fine. Turning you into fingerprinting experts."

E gazed at him. "Do people in Forensics have to go through all the physical training and the Academy?" he asked.

Voight shrugged at him and sat back in his chair. "Depends. We use a lot of civilian contractors for that kind of stuff."

"Like Mouse?" Voight grunted an affirmative. "But the guy before him was a cop, he says."

Voight gave another shrug. "Yea," he allowed. "But all that's going to depend on who's running whatever unit you end up in, if that's the route you end up taking, Magoo. Some people will want cops. Others will want the civies with the fancy degrees. Some just want the best person for the job."

"How do you be the best?" he asked.

Voight shrugged. "Work hard. Keep your head on straight. Prove you know your stuff and that you're committed to the job and your city."

E sunk back in his chair, still staring at the necklace. "Have you shot people?" he asked quietly.

Hank smacked at that but then leaned forward, and cupped his boy's cheek until his eyes met people. "Yes," he put flatly.

"Did they die?" E asked even more carefully.

"Some of them," Hank provided.

E blinked at him. "Has Erin?"

Hank gave him a little nod. "Yes," he acknowledged.

"Will I have to kill people to be the best person for the job?" E asked timidly.

Hank dropped his hand to his son's knee and gave it a good squeeze. "E, when it comes to protecting this city – the people we care about – this family don't got dinosaur arms. But, killing someone, that's something I hope you don't ever got to do. And it ain't something you need to do to be the best at your job."

"Then why'd you have to kill people?" E asked. "People don't like cops because they say Chicago cops are always shooting people for no reason."

Hank shook his head and cupped at the tuffy hair that was struggling to grow back on the back of his son's head. "Every person I've had to shoot – there's been a reason. A good one," he assured.

"Did Mom know you killed people?" E asked.

Hank gave a little nod. "Yea …" he acknowledged.

"And Erin too?"

Hank let out a slow breath and sat back in his chair a bit, gazing at his little boy. Kid wasn't so little anymore. Growing up. Asking the bigger questions. Thinking the bigger thoughts. Seeing him and his work in different lights. Not his baby anymore. But the thing was – your baby, he was always your baby. Even when he was this age. Even with him about to enter his teens. Voight was sure even when Magoo was a grown man. Even if he was still around when Eth was the one bringing him home grandkids – E would still be his baby boy. His youngest. That's just not something that leaves you.

"Your sister was still pretty new to her beat when we lost your mom," he admitted. "Hadn't had a kill shot yet. But your mom would've known that at some point in her career, your sister was likely going to have to take someone's life. And your mom would've been there to help her through that however she needed – just like she was me."

"Justin will likely have to kill people if he gets sent to war," E said.

Hank nodded. "Yea," he acknowledged. "Good possibility."

"And Jay's probably killed lots of people since he was a Ranger and a sniper and now he's a cop," Eth said.

Hank nodded, giving a little smack. "Jay's was a good soldier. A good cop. And he's had to do some hard things."

E just stared at him. "So our whole family is killers," he put flatly. It wasn't a question. It was a clear statement.

"Our whole family is people who do the best they can to look out for people who need some help and some justice in their lives," Voight put flatly.

"Is killing people hard?" E asked eyeing him with an intensity that Voight didn't like.

He smacked while he kept eyes with his boys. "It's something you can't take back and it's something that's best not to think too much about after the fact."

"So you don't think about it?" E asked.

Voight scrubbed at his face and then leaned forward on his knees to get right in his son's face again. "E, I've got enough happening every day that needs my attention. I don't got the space in my head to be thinking on things are done and can't be changed."

Magoo's eyes said he was trying to process that. "Would Mom be OK with me wanting to work for the police too?" was all he managed to ask.

Hank tapped at his boy's cheek. "Your mom would be so proud of whatever you decide to do, Magoo. She'd love that you're interested in this science stuff. And she knew what being real police meant to this family. Legacy, Ethan."

"But I won't be real police," he said with some defeat.

"You're as real as they get, E," Hank assured him.

Those eyes of his just looked right through him. "Maybe Mom would still want this," E said, dangling the necklace a bit. "Since you don't."

Hank patted his cheek and sat up straighter, taking the necklace from his hand and looping it off the cardstock. He wrapped the string around his hand until the little plaster was in his palm and he could again press his thumb over his boy's thumbprint.

"How about I hold on to it for her, until you're ready to give it to her," he said. "It will help me keep my head on straight."

E squinted at him. "How?" he asked.

Voight shook his closed fist at him, the twine from the necklace wrapped around his hand. "Good reminder about what's important and where my head should be coming back to."

He could see his boy again trying to process that. To understand. But it wasn't something he really wanted his boy to understand. Some day he likely would. On some level. But the pain and the responsibility that came with that understanding – wasn't something he needed to know at twelve. Kid already knew too much about pain and loss. He didn't need to reflect on what it meant to be the one who brought about that.

So Hank just shook his head and rose from his chair. "C'mon," he said. "Let's take the mutt out for that walk. Fresh air is a good way to get your head on straight too."

Compartmentalization. So much more necessary after you had kids. But so much harder.


	83. Talk Therapy

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 79 - FINGERPRINTS.**

"I just want to make sure you two have really talked about this," Hank rasped. "That he's heard you out before he goes signing his name on the dotted line."

Olive gave him a little sigh but a small smile. "We have, Hank," she said. "I promise."

"It's a big commitment," he said, giving her that look. That frown. This seriousness that didn't quite hide the quiet pride. It was the same look as when he'd reminded her that Justin had a four-year service commitment. That same quiet warning that Justin might let her down. That this wasn't going to work. Support that Hank would be there for her in some capacity – but that he had this low-bar set for his son. Because he hadn't quite re-proven himself back to his father yet. And maybe he never would.

But Justin definitely hadn't let her down. Or Henry. He hadn't left her in a lurch. Left them alone and struggling to make ends meet and her trying to figure out how to be a single mother.

Justin wasn't perfect. But neither was she. And neither was their relationship. But they seemed to be trying. More than trying. And on some level they were making it work. They were being good at this – just like she thought they'd be. Because she thought in a way both of them had spent their teens figuring out how to make their home situations work in less than ideal environments. Not that any environment was exactly ideal but they'd both had reasons to resent some of their family make-up at certain times in their life. Henry likely would too. But with this decision – they were trying to make it easier for him and better for him. They were trying their best to figure it all out. Because that seemed to be what life and being a parent was all about. Olive knew that Hank already knew that and she also knew that Justin was really starting to get that. Probably more than Hank – or his siblings – thought or gave him credit for just yet. But maybe this change would help him – both of them – prove it to Justin's family.

And she thought Hank should be proud of that. Happy for that and for them.

And it wasn't that he wasn't. But she knew he worried about them. Because even though Justin's relationship with his father was complicated and even though Justin had some choice words about the man and his upbringing – they both still cared about each other. Loved each other. Olive knew that and could see it. It was just that Justin was about as good at showing and managing his emotions as his father seemed to be. But she'd been around both of them enough that she knew both father and son (and hopefully her son) were softies in their own ways – despite their gruffness and tough guy talk and macho posturing. Neither of them were so scary. And neither of them were as mysterious as maybe they thought. It was like Hank had said: The Maltase Falcon is a mystery. Hank and Justin? Well, they were more likely both just pains in the ass. But she kind of liked her pain in the ass a lot.

And Olive didn't think Hank was so bad either. For all the things Justin said – he'd been nothing but kind to her and kind to Henry. And he had lots of reasons why he didn't have to be.

She'd been a little scared of him and intimidated of him at first. She'd remembered what Justin had said about him in high school. She'd revisited that when Justin had run his mouth – mostly with frustration and anger –in the months she'd gotten reacquainted with him after his year in lock up. The bad boy was a real bad boy then. Only he wasn't. He was still an angry kid then. It'd been since the pregnancy – since Henry – that he'd become a man. But they'd both grown-up a lot. They had too. And she didn't think that was a bad thing either. Babies were good things. Henry was definitely a very good thing. Even if he was already cruising to be as big of pain in the ass as his father and grandfather. And probably his aunt and uncle too.

"I think it's going to be a good thing for us," Olive told him.

He raised that eyebrow again and gave her a little nod. "Eight years," he stressed. "He's already almost halfway through his four year service commitment. Won't be long before you'll be able to live wherever you want."

Olive allowed him a small smile but he'd already looked away. He didn't take niceties easily. She thought he likely found them condescending. Besides, she knew that Hank was far more interested in Henry than he was her. She actually kind of felt like Hank had pretty much commandeered the baby since she'd walked in the door. But her aunt had done that the day before too. The baby was the new most popular person in their family. Much more interesting than her and Justin. And she could get that. Her and Justin spent a lot of time staring at Henry too. Even when he was exhausting and frustrating and insanely boring in the tedium of the whole baby thing – it was also fascinating to watch him change and develop and learn and interact with the world around him. Some days seemed to feel like they dragged by but then at the same time it all felt like it was going by so quickly. She couldn't believe Henry was already ten months. Nearly eleven months. A whole year had gone by already. Like that.

It was kind of funny to watch Hank interact with Henry, though, in a sweet way. And, she didn't really mind the baby break and the extra help. Hank tried to come across as such a tough guy. If you talked to Justin – especially a teen-aged Justin – he came across as some sort of mobster almost. But watching him spooning pureed yams into Henry's mouth now sorta killed that picture of him. If listening to Hank talk to Henry on the webcam every Sunday hadn't already. He wasn't the Big Bad Wolf or a Boogey Man. She actually kind of thought he was a baby person and it was kinda cute. He actually seemed almost like more of a baby person than Justin. Justin still visibly struggled with letting down some of his walls and macho-posturing. He wasn't all that silly or goofy with Henry yet. But some people just were scared of babies – even if they were their own. Justin was still really good at helping out and taking care of all kinds of things around the house – taking care of and supporting their family – even if he couldn't bring himself to do the silly face and go-go-gah-gah talk. Not that Hank exactly did that either. But you could see it in the little spark in his eyes how much he craved his interactions with Henry. That little smile he got on his face that he tried to hide under his manliness – just like Justin. She could see where Justin got some things from – probably more than he wanted to ever acknowledge or think about. But Olive wasn't too sure that was such a bad thing.

"He has to get accepted into the program before he hits the three year mark," Olive tried explaining the logistics behind their decision again. The justification. Even though she knew that Hank had already heard it from Justin and even though she knew he'd likely gone and read all about it and asked his own questions elsewhere. "And the time he's put in will still count toward the eight years. He'll still get paid as a reservist. We'll get some of the other subsidies. And when he's done he'll have a degree and will get a commissioned officer position. It's more pay and he'll was better skills for when he does leave the army. It should work out real good for us, Hank. We're feeling really optimistic and enthusiastic about this opportunity."

He just made that smacking sound that always made her feel a little uncomfortable and cast her a look. It caused her to sit back in her chair a bit.

"Lot could happen in eight years," Hank pressed again. "'Specially with the state of the world today."

Olive gave a little shrug. She was aware of that. It scared her too. But Justin could be deployed as it was. Any second. She was quickly learning that there wasn't much point in dwelling on it. They just needed to deal with every day the best they could and enjoy the most of them too – and their time together. Thinking ahead to the next day, week or month was sometimes asking too much. She wasn't going to try to think or plan or worry about the next eight years. Even though that was more than a little stressful to leave that way. But she was learning too that was part of being a military wife. At least she had a community of other women and families who were in the exact same situation. It made coping with it a little easier some days. And hopefully it would bring some support and comfort – if and when – Justin did get sent overseas.

"Not likely going to end up based anywhere near here after he finishes out his schooling either."

"A lot of them end up at Fort Gordon," she allowed. "Georgia."

Hank cast her another look and gave another one of those loud smacks.

She knew he didn't like that. She knew he liked where they were right now – given the options. At least they were within sort of driving distance. They could see each other more than a couple times a year. She knew that being farther away – really far away – would be harder on them after they got a few years of being back in the same city. But Henry would be older than. He'd likely be starting school or even in school already. And Ethan would be older too – and hopefully doing better – it'd be easier to leave him or to travel with him. And that Justin and his little brother would have had time to work on their relationship and Ethan would even want to visit them. And that Hank's job situation might've calmed enough that he'd be more willing and able to travel too. Though, Olive definitely got the impression that they were more likely to pull Hank's badge out of his cold, dead hand than he was to ever retire or even partially step away from his work voluntarily.

She preferred to think of the immediacy, though. She really did. That they'd get home to be closer to both of their families while Henry was still in his important formative years. That he'd have his grandpa and his aunts and uncles and great-aunt all in his life. That he'd know them and they'd know him and they'd get to see and share in some of their milestones. That they'd get to be a family. All of them. She really wanted that. She hadn't had it when she was growing up. Not in a normal or stable way. But something about Hank – and all the positives she saw in Justin and the man and father he was proving himself to be – made her believe that they could be that family. The one that little Henry deserved.

This was a good thing. A good opportunity for all of them.

"I'm taking a course to be certified as a multiple sclerosis specialist in physical therapy," she provided instead, slightly changing the structure and making an apologetic hand gesture for the shift – hoping he'd be understanding because sometimes it was more than clear that Hank liked to be the one directing the conversation and the one winning out on its outcome. But he allowed her a small grunt at the statement and gave her another little – almost interested - glance from the baby. She took that as permission to continue. "It's just an online course for now. I'll have to go and do like night school or something at one of the colleges in this consortium that provide the certification. And complete a year doing like a residency at a clinic that deals with M.S. patients. And pass a test. But it's good," she allowed.

Hank gave her another small noise. Some acknowledgement. Sometimes it was hard to tell exactly what he was thinking. His face said a lot in some ways. But in others he was really hard to read and he really didn't talk that much. At least not to her. But she got the sense he was a very private person. Even now – though she felt welcome enough, especially with his grandson in tow – she felt slightly awkward being in his home alone. Though, she supposed she did have Henry with her.

"I'm really liking it," she said. "And finishing up the classroom part of the course and the residency part – there'd be a lot more opportunity for me here too. Maybe even at the Rehab Institute," she tried and Hank gave her another little look that didn't look quite as approving. "But having the opportunity to do my year placement at one of those places … a big clinic or hospital here … I think it'd really help me with getting a job or even maybe having my own practice or clients when we got back to living on base."

Hank examined her for a long moment. Scrutinized her really. He'd done the same thing back when she'd first told him she was studying to be a physical therapist. Like he was interested but there was some sort of sympathy in the look. Like maybe he didn't quite believe she was capable of that kind of job. But she knew she was. She actually was finding she was really good at it. Sure her progress and abilities were slowed down a bit right now with the baby and with where Justin was stationed and the opportunities in the area. But she thought that would change. She was motivated and Justin was supportive when she talked about it. Supportive of her decision to start this online course and to get this certification and to try to push forward her own education and career path while they were home too. Even though it was looking at multiple sclerosis and working with patients suffering through what his little brother was suffering through.

And she knew that scared him. That he didn't like thinking about it or talking about it. But he did. With her. She'd seen his eyes well and him shut down. How he worried about if he should blame himself. If it really had been the brain damage that had opened Ethan up to this. And if that had all been his fault too – just like that other boy being paralyzed – because he'd been out that night when he wasn't supposed to be. And if he hadn't been – if he hadn't called his mother drunk and needing a drive home – she and Ethan wouldn't have even been in the car that night. That the collision – and death and brain injury – might never have even happened. That it'd all be different. But instead he saw his little brother a bigger mess than he'd left him. Justin hadn't known how to cope with Ethan's tremoring and catheter and vomiting over Christmas. And the way he'd dealt with it had just made things worse and than rather than offering some apologies and trying harder to understand what was happening to his brother – he tried to close his eyes even harder. But she kept telling him that wasn't working. She kept trying to help him understand what was happening to Ethan – so it wouldn't be as scary for him. But Justin cared a lot more self-blame and self-loathing than he wanted to admit. He tried to hide it under big talk, big personality, and macho-ism. Really he was just running away from his own inability to deal with his demons from the past. To move on or forgive himself. But that didn't make it easier for him and it did nothing for his relationship with his family. And it wasn't something that could be easily explained to a twelve year old kid. So maybe she was trying to make some changes and educate herself and help Hank and Ethan as best she could to make up for the ways that Justin wasn't ready to.

Because Justin really did care about Ethan. And he did want a relationship with his brother. And he worried about not being there to have one. He worried about the ways he'd disappointed him and let him down and hurt him and not been there for him already. And he worried more that he was being replaced – or over-shadowed or superseded – by Erin's fiancée. And that seemed to just hurt and anger Justin even more and make him run away from trying to fix it even harder. But she was pretty sure – or at least hopeful – that whatever and whoever Jay was in Ethan's life, he wasn't his big brother. That Justin could still be that to Ethan if he really wanted to be. If he tried. And getting home would make doing that easier for all of them.

"It's all really interesting," Olive offered. "I'm learning a lot. And, I mean, I know Ethan's got … really awesome doctors and therapists at the Rehab Institute," she fumbled a bit more nervously, "… but … I'd really love to hear more about his treatment plan and the exercises and conditioning they've got him doing. I mean … from you. But also … from him … about what he likes and hates and what helps or doesn't."

Hank examined her again. There was sympathy to it again. But he ultimately shrugged. "Can tell you a bit," he said. "Don't think E will be too open to it, though."

"Oh …," Olive stutter a bit. The hopeful smile disappearing from her face. "No, yeah. I understand. It's pretty private stuff."

Hank just smacked again at that. Because she knew that they both knew that it had nothing to do with privacy. It had to do with her. Or maybe more specifically with her being married to Justin.

But there was a small clatter through the dining room and Olive glanced to the entrance of the kitchen and painted a smile across her face again.

"Hi, Ethan," she said overly cheerily. She knew he'd pretty much been hiding upstairs since she'd arrived. It'd been the reason she'd opted to stay at her aunt's the night before too. Because she didn't want to make this more awkward than it needed to be. And he clearly was going to make it awkward because he very nearly glared at her.

"Say hello," Hank rasped at his son without looking at him.

"Hello," Ethan grumbled.

Olive kept the smile going. "I'm really looking forward to dinner tonight," she tried.

It definitely became a glare at that point. "I'm not," he said flatly as he stood next to his dad and gazed at Henry. At least he offered her son a silly face. Or that's what she was going to say. He really just stuck is tongue out at him.

"Ethan," Hank scolded harshly – so much so that Henry made a little startled sound like he was the one being chastised.

Ethan's eyes shifted to Hank. "Well, do you want me to lie?" Ethan spat at him and got an even more warning look as Hank's tongue ran across the front of his teeth. "I'm not looking forward tonight. Mom never would've picked somewhere that stupid to eat on Mother's Day."

Olive felt her smile fade a bit more. "Oh, well, we can go somewhere else. I just thought—"

"The Rainforest Café's fine," Hank interrupted and glared at his son.

Ethan rolled his eyes. "If someone sees me there, I'm blaming you," he directed at Olive.

"If someone sees you there, it means they're there too," Hank put to him bluntly.

Ethan squinted at him and started to move toward the back door, casting Olive another accusing look. "I'm going to practice until it's time to go see Mom," he stressed with almost a venom.

"Ethan," Hank rasped at him even more firmly. But the kid apparently was willing to take risks that day and ignored the call, continuing out the door and slamming it behind him. Hank's glare stayed set on the door in a clear anger – this tongue poking out of his cheek again.

"I really don't mind going somewhere else," Olive tried to sooth. Hank held up a hand for her to stop but she didn't. "I just thought it'd be fun. That Ethan would like it too. Justin said he didn't think you'd ever been. And they're supposed to have all these big aquariums and Justin has said so many times about how fascinated Ethan is with fish and how their mom …" She stuttered again saying it because the mention of Justin's mother always made this look flicker in Hank's eyes and then trickle down his cheeks until his mouth folded into an etched frown. "And the animatronic animals," she tried to shift gears, "and his robotics stuff. I just thought … but I mean, I should've known he's too old for the Rainforest Café ..."

Hank shook his head. "He's going to be fine. He'll like it. He's just …" he sighed and really did give her a sympathetic look at that. More of an apologetic one.

Olive looked at her hands on the table. "I just … really didn't want to spend Mother's Day alone," she offered quietly of Justin's training exercises that had him away.

She thought it was sort of unfair that they'd put them on Mother's Day weekend but she also know that those weren't the kind of things that the military really thought about – or even cared about if it had crossed their minds. But she definitely hadn't expected to have her first Mother's Day alone. She'd sort of romanticized that Justin would have a card and flowers for her and some little gift from Henry and breakfast in bed and some family time on the swings in the park. He'd still done some of that. He'd hidden a card in her suitcase along with a little gift from Henry. And he'd had flowers delivered to her aunt's that morning. But it wasn't the same as getting to spend the day with him. To share it together. She'd sort of hoped that in a way maybe spending some time with her husband's family – letting them share in the joy of the little man who'd given her the title of mother to even be celebrating the day – might sort of make up for it. But she wasn't really sure it was working on that way.

So far it felt strained and awkward. Ethan clearly didn't want her there. And Erin hadn't come around yet to visit that morning and by the sounds of it, she wasn't going to join them for dinner that night. Even though Olive had specifically invited her herself. And she'd made Justin do the same. But her efforts at mea culpas on her husband's behalf only counted for so much and clearly Justin hadn't done enough for his siblings to give her the benefit of the doubt either. It hurt because it wasn't her fault. She was trying. She wanted to be a part of their lives. And more specifically, she really wanted all of them to be a part of Henry's.

"But I know this must be a … hard day for everyone," she offered cautiously, finding Hank's eyes that again flickered with sadness and even the indirect mention of his wife. "So if me … being here … is too hard for your family, I really understand. I can go back over to—"

"You're family," Hank interrupted. "You and Henry. And if Camille was here, she'd want you both sitting right where you are today too."


	84. Graveside

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 80 - TALK THERAPY.**

"I wanna talk to Mom by myself," Magoo mumbled at him as they neared Camille's gravesite.

Hank glanced at him. He briefly contemplated barking something at him again about getting too big for his breeches and he was getting pretty sick of dealing with his tone and attitude that day. That Ethan would talk to him, and treat him, like his father. But he bit his tongue – because he knew that Camille wouldn't want him getting into it with any of the kids that day. That all she ever wanted for Mother's Day was for everyone to just get along.

That was easier said than done most years. Kids were kids. They had a fucking sixth sense about when a day was "special". And that sixth sense seemed to tell them that it was the exact right time to act out.

There were very few days in a year that him and Camille demanded that they keep their noses clean – and their mouths clean and their fingernails clean. To act like fucking respectable citizens rather than little hellions. But without fail, the kids seemed to make it seem like even those handful of days a year was way too much to ask for them.

Hadn't been that bad when it was just Justin on the scene. He'd still be a fucking brat. But in that only child, always a chip on his shoulder, attitude problem way that was all Justin from about the moment he learned how to talk. Fuck – likely from the moment he came out and took his first breath and started crying. Cried until he could talk and then never shut up after that either. Still didn't. Still didn't know when and how to use his words and when to keep his mouth fucking shut. Likely never would.

Got even worse when Erin was added to the mix. Mother's Day took a whole different dynamic after she was around. A strange date to mark anyway for the kid. Then add in stupid-ass commentary from Justin as he challenged her place in the family. And then mix Erin being a teenager and her always lovely disposition and attitude. Didn't exactly make Camille's Mother's Days sunshine and roses than either.

You'd think it would've gotten more fun again by the time E was added to the family. A little boy to give his mom all those hugs and sloppy kisses and touchy-feely crafty shit again. But by then J was a teenager too and it was just another mess of attitude and a whole new level of bickering and boys being boys in ways that made Hank wonder why the fuck he ever wanted more than one kid. Kid was too many as it was some days.

Still, Camille would always power through with a smile on her face. Accept what the kids did and offered up – even if Hank had had to twist their arms to fully participate and to try to behave while they were doing it. And he did that for her. Because it was never the kids she told to behave – to not fight. It was always him that she'd pull aside in the days before and say she didn't want arguments. She didn't want him going at the kids. Being the disciplinarian. To just let the kids be. Let her enjoy them or let them be the mother – the big bad one or the kiss the skinned knees one. Let her decide what sort of ass-whooping they needed on a particular day.

So he'd keep on honoring that. Not get into it with Eth that afternoon. Even though he'd been a pain in the ass all morning. Even though he'd been fucking piss and vinegar for weeks. He didn't know if it was exhaustion or disappointment about his team not making Nationals or he was hurting or emotionally down or if it was just coming up on his birthday and he was really stretching his muscles to set in on the teen attitude. But it'd been a pain in the ass.

He knew Camille would laugh at that too. That she'd take great fucking joy – maybe a little bit secret – that he was having to deal with the teen years and the attitude, another fucking hellion, all on his own. That he'd dodged some of it with the job and going U.C. – just not being home as much as he should be – with Justin and Erin. That Camille would lay into him when she felt she was having to carry more than her fair load with those two kids. That that wasn't the deal. That her hands were full – and they had a father. So where the hell was he?

Well, for whatever failings or absences he'd had with J and Erin, he was getting to more than make up for that now with Magoo. And he knew somewhere Camille was laughing. Smiling a little about that. That she'd be poking him in the ribs at night every time he grumbled or vented about the bullshit of the day he'd had to deal with with the kid. He was too fucking old to be doing the teen years – again – on his own. But that's just the way it was going to be.

But he still so fucking wished Camille was there to help. Because she'd know how to do it better. To do it differently. To be there for E in ways that Hank didn't know how to be and he never would. But he'd just try his best. Go about it the best way he knew how. For Camille. And for Magoo too. They both deserved that.

So he just set the tray of perennials in front of Camille's gravestone.

"Don't go digging anything up without me," Hank put to his son. "I'll go over to see your grandma and grandpa for a bit. Give you few minutes of privacy."

Eth barely looked at him. It was that kind of day. The kid worked at flopping himself on the ground, pulling his lazy legs under him in a half-crossed manner, and starting to pull at the grass in front of his mom's headstone.

Hank allowed a frown at that. It wasn't the way a kid was supposed to see their mother. Not the way they were supposed to have conversations with her. Not at that age. But it was what it was – and there was nothing he could do about it. Life wasn't fair.

So he took the other tray of flowers and moved over a bit – giving his son some minor privacy – as he went to pay some respects to his own parents. To bring his own mother her Mother's Day flowers too.

"We brought you flowers," Hank heard Ethan mutter to his mom and glanced back. But Ethan caught his eyes and after sharing their line of sight for a brief moment, Hank turned away. Forcing himself to give Magoo something that resembled a bit of privacy.

"We got you some for home too," E added as Hank looked away. "I don't know why. Like I know Dad says you like them but he pretty much just kills them since he doesn't remember to water them. He says that's my job now but I don't think I'll be so good at it neither. And Bear will likely eat them and pee on them too." There was a pause. "I'll try not to let him dig them up or poop on them, though. But … no promises. Because he kind of does what he wants."

Hank smiled a bit at that. The fucking mutt. Did what he wanted. Wasn't training so well. No matter how much Hank barked at him. Hopefully E would start whipping him into shape soon. But Magoo was too fucking soft with the dog. Wasn't a master of him at all. The dog was the master over the kid most of the time. And some bad habits were already ingrained in the damn thing. Was going to be a bitch to get them ironed out of the dog. Kept barking at Magoo and Erin that it was their responsibility – their goddamn mutt. But the fucking kids only listened to him so much. As usual. Just like always. Fucking old man didn't know shit. So, as expected, it was him who was trying to get the thing trained as much as he could. Bear wasn't a bad dog – but he was a puppy. He needed some discipline. Needed to be shown right from wrong. Needed to have the law laid down for him about what went and didn't go in their house. Thing was the dog was smart enough he was figuring out what went and didn't go with the various members of the household – not the house as a whole. He wasn't as dumb as his goofy face looked. Just as dumb as he wanted to be. Nudged the line constantly just like the kids. And Hank so didn't need another one – but there he had it.

"I wanted to bring Bear," Magoo added after a long moment. "But Dad said it'd be rude. You know, if he was like peeing on or pooping on other people's moms and dads or whatever. I don't think he would've. But Dad says Bear has no manners. Or bad ones. Or something." There was another long pause again. "I guess you've already sorta meet Bear anyway. But I thought you'd like to see him. Like you know … better."

Hank let out a little sigh at that. He knew Ethan was somewhat convinced that his mom was still around. Visited him. Hank didn't exactly want to beat that out of him. Didn't want to be telling him that wasn't true. Because he'd spent enough time telling his kid that his mom was still a part of his life – even if she wasn't there. That she lived on in all of them. That she was still a part of their hearts and minds and memories and that counted for a lot. It was something he needed to believe himself. But the guardian angel, haunted house aspect that Eth sometimes leaned towards made Hank uncomfortable. Made him worry about his son's state of mind.

The docs said not to. That they checked in on it. That Ethan knew fantasy from reality. That kids developed coping mechanisms – and this was just what Ethan had established for himself. But Eth wasn't a little boy anymore – even if his confusion and scattered memories of his mother and what had happened to her seemed forever locked at him being seven years old. That every time it seemed like they were making progress in Ethan's acceptance and memory gaps and brain damaged way of looking at the world and processing thoughts and emotions – something would happen that would make it seem like they'd taken a step back. And that always seemed to manifest itself in him looking for his mom or asking about his mom or mistaking Erin as his mom. It just made the whole grieving process – even all these years later – that much harder. Because it felt like he'd never be able to move on and like he wasn't going to let the rest of them either.

It was worse since the M.S. flares started. The swelling and inflammation near his optical nerve. The shadowy vision disruptions that they created in Ethan that he interrupted as a human figure and to him that human figure was his mom having come visit. And that the perfectly natural way for him to react to that was to sit down and have a conversation with her. Usually in the middle of the night. Until his chatter woke Hank. And then he'd go find his boy sitting there in bed talking to nothing. This pupils dilated and non-responsive. His left eye often sitting lopsided in his socket. And him not understanding why they had to go see the doctor. Eth didn't think anything was wrong. He thought it was great. The mother he could hardly remember was coming to visit him. Only it wrenched at Hank in so many ways every time it happened.

It made him feel like his boy was loosing his mind. That he was having outright hallucinations. Docs said no. Not hallucinations – actual, documented vision disruptions. Very likely did look like a ghostly figure. Normal. But it wasn't fucking normal. And it sounded as scary as fuck for a brain damaged kid to be dealing with. Not that Ethan seemed to see it that way. So instead it made Hank feel like it was him who was losing his mind sometimes. Because there was a lot of things with Ethan he could deal with. Things he could fix or at least try to help him fix. But his youngest seeing visions of his mother? That was something that just lurched him every time no matter what medical explanation and what psychological coping babble the doctors gave him.

"You can see these, though," Hank heard Eth say and glanced over again to see his son having hiked up his pants a bit to show off his shoes. "They're the ones I told you 'bout. That Erin got me. For Christmas. That I got to design them." E examined his shoes. "Pretty cool, right? I figured since you and Dad don't like shoes upstairs you hadn't got to see them yet." He hiked his pant leg up a bit higher. "And this is that new brace thing that I told you I was getting," he added and knocked his hand against the hard plastic. "I don't really like it. It doesn't really flex or breathe. But with playing ball now, I kinda need it. It's hard to play any good with the crutches. I still use the crutches for other stuff, though. It's easier. To keep balance and go faster than without them."

E got quiet after that and Hank thought he was done his blabbing. He was almost glad for that. He told Eth that it was OK to have conversations with his mom. That it was when he was seeing her too that there was an issue. But still, listening to the one-sided monologue out of his boy could be hard too. It was just a reminder of Camille's absence even more.

He looked down at his parents' grave sites. Then got down on his knees to work at clearing away some of the debris still left from the winter. He never got out there enough it seemed. He'd go by the police memorial from time-to-time. Look at his dad's name. Made a habit of smacking his hand against the brick bearing the man's name on the wall outside the District's entrance too. Each and every day as he was heading into work through that day. A reminder – what he was doing there, the kind of cop he was supposed to be, who he was supposed to be for his city, what he had to do to accomplish that, and the father and man he needed to be in the process. Big responsibilities. Big shoes. Hoped he was doing some of it right. For his Pop's sake.

Still, he should get out to the cemetery more. For his mom. And for Camille. But this place just didn't really feel like where they were. They were living on elsewhere. This was just where they were buried. Only needed to come by so much. But should at least be coming by to make sure things were neat and tidy and in order – they way they all would've wanted and the way they all deserved.

He pulled a pair of trimming shears out of his back pocket and started to work at giving the grass the first trim of the season. Get the plot in order before he dug up the ground to put some of his mom's favorite plants with her.

But he heard Eth start talking again – now that he was out of sight. He supposed maybe out of sight was out of mind to his son. Though, he wasn't making much effort to speak in hushed tones to hide is ongoing conversation. Not that Eth was ever very good at speaking in hushed tones. Something about the brain damage too and it's accompanying lack of filter. Ethan just talked. There wasn't much thought to what he was saying before he opened his mouth or the level he was speaking at. Always made having the kid out in public a bit of an adventure. Definitely had foot in mouth disease. Though, Hank had spent the year working on that with him. He was getting better. Slowly. Usually "Ethan, filter" was enough to get him to at least shut up and think for a moment before continuing.

"I haven't seen you in a while," E said and Hank shifted his listening over to his son's monologue a little bit more. "I know it means that the medicine is likely working better and helping but I miss seeing you. Dad says I can still talk to you even though I don't see you. But I liked being able to see you."

Hank frowned at that. He understood in a way. But he didn't agree with it. He was relieved that the inflammation around his boy's optical nerve was calm enough lately that he wasn't getting these disruptions. That the optic neurosis was under control. That his eye sight was stabilizing. These were all positives. Really, really good things for managing all their daily lives. It'd been part of the objective in the hell they'd gone through. The chemo and the pulses of IVMP might not have solved everything but at least there'd been some progress.

At least they were seeing some changes. At least they'd gone over a month without a major flare. His boy was living right now. He was comfortable. He was coping. That made all their lives better. It eased the burden. But a sacrifice of that was the "visible" connection that Magoo felt he'd established with his mom. So for all the physical positives they'd achieved – maybe they were just now moving into truly coping with some of the psychological burden some of this had caused.

There were new issues at the forefront. New issues to come to terms with. A whole different grieving process than before.

For things that Voight might not have ever thought about or imagined in trying to help his kids cope with the loss of their mom. Not that he thought he'd be the one who'd have to do any of that. He'd always assumed he'd be the one to go first. It just seemed like the way it was supposed to be. But it hadn't worked out that way. Sometimes it seemed like life rarely worked out the way you expected and it was even less likely to work out the way you wanted it to.

"But I guess things have been kind of busy lately so sorry for not talking much," Ethan muttered. There was another quiet moment before the kid added, "I guess I didn't tell you about Regionals."

Somehow that was a bit of a relief. That'd been weeks ago. It meant that E had gone weeks without having one of these one-way conversations. That seemed like progress. He hadn't missed them. He'd been too busy. And maybe that too busy would turn into a better way of coping. Or maybe at least the conversations would move into his head. Hank was more familiar with that kind of speaking to the dead. He'd been known to have more than a few of his own conversations with Camille like that over the years. So maybe that was part of the reason hearing E have his out loud made him feel a little crazy. It just rubbed in his face more how much he was still mourning and grieving too. And sometimes that honest realization was hard to take in its own way. Because he missed his wife.

"It was pretty fun even though I didn't get to play in the finals. I just got to do two seeding matches because I was still kind of sick and Dad didn't want me to over do it. AND! He didn't let me go to Six Flags with basically EVERYONE because he doesn't like me scrambling my brain. But the other activity that night was to go see the Cardinals play. So I guess that was kinda fun – even though it was the Cardinals. But we didn't do that great at Regionals. Like we got to the semi-finals but a weld broke and it screwed up one of the breakers too."

Hank glanced between the headstones to see Eth doing a demonstration with his hands in an attempt to explain what the deal-breaking ram by another team had done to the Wolves' robot. Pretty much cost them the tournament and even the penalty the other team got didn't save them the match in the end. It'd pretty much set the tone for the final sprint up the tournament ladder. Iggy's had been hobbled and it'd shown. Just wasn't their year.

"So we aren't going to Nationals," Ethan huffed. "I guess that's OK since the dinosaur exhibit is closed at the Smithsonian right now so what's the point of going there anyway?"

Hank allowed a quiet smile to pull at his lips about that. When he'd tried to provide E a bit of a pep talk about can't win them all, can't expect to get to playoffs every years, these things happen, injuries happen, etc, etc, etc – the kid had brushed it off with the same thing. Washington didn't sound so great anyway – especially if the dinosaur exhibit wasn't open. Some things about Magoo just never seemed to change. But he knew if Camille really was hearing this, she'd get a chuckle out of it too. Her baby boy and his fucking dinosaurs. Still. All these years later. She'd created a monster.

"Erin's thirty now," Ethan said after another long pause. "But I guess you know that. I asked Dad if it makes him feel old to have a kid that's thirty since thirty is pretty old. But he said it doesn't. He says I make him feel old. Whatever that means. I told him Henry should make him feel old because he is old now since he's a grandpa." Ethan stopped for a moment. "It's weird to have a dad who's a grandpa," he muttered like that was some kind of revelation and he seemed to sit there contemplating it for a long moment.

"Erin just wanted Dad to make her Classy Chicken for her birthday," he mumbled after a stretch of silence, "but Dad said no and made her pick a restaurant since I guess getting that old is a big deal or something. Erin didn't pick anything fancy, though, and I think Dad wanted to get her like a steak or something. But I'm glad she didn't want steak because steak is pretty gross. The restaurant she picked had a salad bar. I liked that. But I think she picked it because it had a salad bar. For me …"

Hank allowed a thin smile at that too, as he started to till some of the dirt in the little flower bed at his mother's grave site. He and Erin had gone back and forth on him taking her out for dinner for her thirtieth. Back and forth and back and forth. She was as stubborn as fuck. Didn't want to mark her birthday. Didn't care that she was thirty. Didn't want to acknowledge she was thirty. "You never take us out for dinner for our birthdays. Just make something. I'll come over and eat it, Hank." Moody, stubborn little fuck. But that had always been Erin – and he knew there was more going on than just the usual distaste that anyone had about saying goodbye to their twenties. Still – thirty was one where he was willing to pay for a meal. Just like eighteen, twenty-one and twenty-five. They'd likely get a meal out for their fortieth birthdays too if the three of them hadn't sent him to an early grave by then.

So he'd kept at Erin. He wasn't going to make her a fucking heart-attack casserole for here thirtieth. And he wasn't going to let her sulk around for weeks on end because of an anniversary date either. He knew how hard it was around anniversaries and holidays. Combine an anniversary and a holiday together? Didn't make anything any easier. And he knew a whole lot about self-blame and guilty and loathing. But that didn't get you anywhere further ahead. Best thing you could do for yourself was to keep moving forward and spending time with the people you cared about and who were still there in your life. Because that's what the one's that left you behind would've wanted. No matter the how, what and who that caused you to be the one left behind.

It'd reached the point it was end of discussion – pick a fucking restaurant or he'd make a reservation where he deemed appropriate. Well, that just got her more fucking bent out of shape. Then she'd said "Fine" and spouted some burger joint. Fuck that noise. "A real restaurant. With a host and a server and where I can buy you a drink we can toast with and a dessert you'll put up another fuss about eating." If looks could kill. She'd resorted to the argument that there was no where that Ethan could eat – which was bullshit. It just required some pre-planning to know what they were getting into and giving the restaurant a heads up on what to expect. So she'd eventually relented and picked some "gourmet food market and wine bar". Gourmet was a nice way of saying it attracted all the young professionals that had too much disposable income in their pockets and not enough life experience to know what real food at real prices was yet. But it had a salad bar – which Erin felt included her little brother and would be something he'd actually eat. And she was right. So off they went. To an over-priced, mostly cold bar, Hank's definition of crappy buffet – for her thirtieth birthday. She'd picked for Ethan – and mostly just to shut Hank up … he knew it – but they'd had a meal out. As a family. Where everyone could eat – semi-happily.

"Dad wants me to invite people for my birthday too. He thinks thirteen is a big deal too. Apparently. I don't really think it is because it's not like I'm even starting high school yet. I'm not even growing yet like everyone else. It so fucking –" Ethan stopped dead in his tracks at his wording. "Sorry …" he offered quietly. "I'll pay the fine when I get home. I didn't mean to swear. It just sucks that I'm smaller than everyone and stuff. And it's just … I don't see the point in having a birthday party. I don't really want to. I don't have anyone to invite. I don't really have friends here yet. Not real ones. There's like Max but he's super weird. Like even I think he's super weird. But now he follows me around at school. So basically he is weirder and has even fewer friends than me. But there's not like anyone else. Not really."

Hank glanced in the direction of his son again at that. He really wished his boy had a group of buddies at this point. He'd been home almost a year. He'd been involved in some things. He was going to school. He was around kids his age with similar interests. But things just weren't seeming to click.

Eth would talk about other kids. There'd be mentioned names. Kids from his class. Kids he sat with at lunch. Kids from Robotics. Kids in the Youth Boxing League who showed up at the gym. But no one he hung out with outside of any of those activities. No one he chummed around with. No one he invited over to the house or who he was getting invited over to their place. No sleepovers or birthday parties or Saturday crap that boys that age got together to do. Eth still just did his own thing. His sister and his dog. And Halstead. That was his friend group. Michelle and Mouse likely fell in there too. But that wasn't the kind of relationships his kid was going to need to get through the rest of his childhood – his teen years, high school. Hank could only be his friend so much. He was the kid's father – not his buddy. And his sister took on too much of the buddy role as it was – because she saw how alone the kid was too and she was trying to make it easier. Maybe that was just making it harder.

"So I told Erin that I just wanted to go play paintball or laser tag but she said that's not really fair since Dad wouldn't want to and we should all do something together. She said her and Jay will take me in the summer. Hopefully they will because they said they would last summer but didn't. But I guess I was kinda sick.

"Jay took Erin to Cleveland for her birthday. But after her birthday. They went to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and record stores and stuff. It sounded really cool. She brought me back pencils that are like drumsticks. But my stupid EA took them away because she says I beat on the desk too much and don't listen. But it helps me think. She says it makes it harder for everyone else to think. But it's all so stupid. It's like they want you to find ways to help you think and concentrate better but then they get mad when you do and take it away! It doesn't make any sense. I really don't like her. I hope I have a different EA next year. I don't think Dad likes her too. I've heard him ranting at Erin about how much homework they send me home with and it's like she does nothing with me. And that's pretty much what she does. She's always over working with like the real retards and never helps me and then she just bitches at me when she is over helping me. She's basically a bitch." Ethan sighed and finally lowered his voice. "Don't tell Dad I swore so much or I'm gonna get like no allowance this week. But I promise I'll put some fine money in the jar when I get home and I won't swear again."

Hank rolled his eyes at that. Kid was being pretty hopeful that he was deaf enough in his old age that he was missing all of this.

"Anyway …" E sighed a little. "It sounded like they had fun. They had some funny stories. Dad even almost smiled and he's been pretty grouchy lately so that's pretty good. They went to the Christmas Story house too. Jay seemed excited about that but I haven't seen the movie and Dad said I wasn't going to. See grouchy. I know because Erin rolled her eyes so I guess that means it's another one of his stupid over-protective rules. Jay and Erin will likely let me watch it at their place next Christmas. If I remember or care.

"They had lunch at some grilled cheese restaurant before coming home too. Erin talked about that more than anything. LIKE FOREVER. She basically listed off the whole menu. It sounded disgusting. A whole restaurant that just does grilled cheese?" He made a gagging sound. "Jay said that being stuck in the car with her after she ate was even more disgusting. I thought that was funny but Erin hit Jay when he said it. You'd probably like Jay …"

That was true too. Hank more than knew that Camille would've been smitten with Halstead. But the guy seemed to have that affect on women. Still, he suspected Camille would've thought he was a good match for Erin. And maybe he was. He was one of the better choices she'd made in men, as far as Hank could tell. And in a way he liked he could keep an eye on it. And give Halstead looks anytime he thought the guy was fucking it up – at work or with his daughter. Not that Camille would've approved of him doing that. But if Erin and Halstead were going to keep on dragging things out so they could parade around as a couple in his unit – he'd be giving them all the looks and attitude he wanted. They needed to keep their heads on straight – for everyone's sake. Keep it professional at work. No dicks hanging out. No distractions. The place was full of too many damn distraction as it was these days. Voight was just waiting for that to blow up in all their faces. And no one would be responsible but him – for letting it all happen … right under his nose. He was letting these kids toe the line and flaunt his rules way too fucking much.

"They're going away again on the long weekend. Memorial Day. So that sucks. Because Jay has a real cabin and can like camp and fish and stuff. And Erin doesn't even like that stuff but gets to go. Dad says we'll go fishing this summer but I don't know if I really believe him. Because he says it's hard for him to book furlough because he's had to take so much time off with me being sick this year. So that just means it will be like a weekend trip if things aren't busy at work. But things are always busy at work. And we were supposed to go ice fishing more than once this winter and we only went once so I don't think we'll really go fishing this summer. But now Erin gets to fish? It's so unfair."

Hank sighed internal at that, as he worked at planting the flowers he'd brought for his mom. He'd do his best to get Magoo out on the water a couple times. He hoped he'd be able to take him camping. Maybe down to that fossil site that they'd taken him to when he was just a little boy. Or out to one of the state parks. It'd be nice to get the cabin rented for a week too. But he had missed a lot of work – and it was on the Ivory Tower's radar. They'd given him some leeway because it was a sick kid – and he was still keeping up with their closure rate and the paperwork. But if he now went and started booking off weeks in the summer? It likely wasn't going to fly. And if he did book off anything – it'd likely be to help Justin and Olive out with the move and getting them settled back in Chicago – assuming he did go ahead and sign on the dotted line. That wasn't exactly the summer vacation that E wanted.

But what he wanted was just going to have to wait for another year. Thing was that Hank was very aware that he was right at that edge where by this time next year, his boy wasn't likely going to want anything to do with him. He'd be into his teens. He'd be getting ready for high school. He'd be way too big for his breeches to be wanting to spend any time with Dad – especially to do something like sleep in a tent, sit in a coat and cast some lines for the day. That'd be a punishment – not quality time together.

"This summer is pretty much going to suck," Ethan mumbled farther. "Iggy's wants me to do summer school. And I think Dad thinks that's a good idea. But it'd be like ALL of July because they think I need to do both sessions because I'm so behind. And like EVERYONE from Robotics is doing Robotics camp but Dad says we can't afford it. So Erin found me like this program at Field that is like about dinosaurs and making a computer game about dinosaurs. So like dinosaurs and coding. It's not really Robotics but I guess that's sort of OK. It only costs $164 for the week but Dad hasn't decided if I can go yet because it means I couldn't do both sessions of the stupid summer school. So I think I'll pay for it out of my extra-curricular jar and just have Erin sign the forms and then she can convince Dad for me later if I get in. But I need to use the money out of that jar to buy a catcher glove too so I don't know if I have enough for both. But maybe Erin will just pay for it. Because I could do that for a week and then I could go to the Rehab Center's camp for a week and then do the second session of summer school instead. The Rehab Center's camp is the only other 'choice' Dad's giving me and it's not even a real choice because he's deciding about summer school. He needs to talk to Father Caruso before he decides. So I don't even know why he's calling it a choice. But I guess the Rehab camp doesn't sound that bad. Like they go kayaking. But how much it sucks will depend on how retarded or crippled the group is the weeks I have to go. I think I'm pretty much going to have to go all August no matter what because Dad didn't really like the City's summer camp programs last summer. He says he doesn't trust college kids with their thumbs up their asses to be watching me right. But I'm not as sick right now was I was last summer. So I don't know. It doesn't even matter because Dad always does stuff his way anyway."

Hank rolled his eyes at that.

"But Erin going to Jay's cabin on the long weekend means she's also going to miss my first tournament of the season. And that really sucks, Mom. Because we're going to have our real uniforms by then. And we're the Cubs. Like the real Cubs. We're sponsored by the REAL TEAM. So we've got jerseys that look just like the real ones. And it has my name – like Voight – on the back and everything. And we're going to get to meet some of the players and go to games and practices and get a tour of the stadium and everything at some point during the season. So even though it's sorta different than real baseball it's still pretty cool. Like really cool. And they're FINALLY letting me play catcher even though no one ever wanted to let me play that position before. And Dad and Erin have both been coming to my practices and games so far. But now she's going to miss the tournament?!" Ethan let out a defeated noise. "But Dad says we've got to let Erin have her own life and all that." There was another long pause. "But things are better when she's around …" Ethan added quietly.

Hank looked between the graves and saw Ethan still pulling at the grass in quiet contemplation.

"Me and Erin went to the Mother-Son dance at St. Iggy's last night," Ethan said quietly after threading some pieces of grass around and around his fingers. Hank should've directed him to work on the weeds and some of the dead spots of browning winter mulch while he was at it. But hindsight can be twenty-twenty. Wasn't going to interrupt now. "It was pretty lame. We didn't stay that long because the music sucked. Like so bad. But then some guy called Erin a MILF. And then there were a bunch of them near her saying it and whispering and giggling and stuff. She got super pissed off and told them off. Loudly. It was kind of embarrassing but they were being pretty mean. Like you shouldn't talk about girls that way – especially at a Mother-Son Dance. And she's not even my mom or a mom. And I thought she looked really pretty. She made us get dressed up so Dad could take a picture. Because he likes that kind of stuff."

And he did. He liked having pictures of his kids. He didn't get to see them done up often enough. And he wasn't too often he got to see his daughter in a dress or his boy in a jacket and tie. They'd both looked very grown up.

"We left, though," Ethan said. "I didn't care. But we had to go to Erin's apartment because she said Dad needed some alone time. I guess since today's Mother's Day. He was probably talking to you. So I guess maybe he already told you all this stuff. He's been kind of sad and grouchy lately. More than usual. Erin says he's just tired and busy with work and stuff. But I don't know. He seems sadder than usual. I don't know why. Sometimes Erin is pretty good at cheering him up but I don't think I am. I think I make him sadder a lot. Olive's here this weekend, though … with Henry. And Henry makes him happy. He smiles a lot for Henry."

Hank let out a sigh and pushed himself up at that to go and stand over Camille's gravestone, looking down at his son. Ethan slowly shifted his eyes up to him.

"You make me smile too," he provided.

Ethan looked away and just pulled a more grass. So Hank rounded the tombstone and lowered himself to the ground next to his son.

"You having this conversation with your mom or you saying it all for me to hear?" he put to his son but Magoo just shrugged. Voight let out a almost indiscernible sigh and reached to squeeze at his boy's shoulder. "I try my best, Magoo," he said. "You aren't always going to like or understand everything I do. The decisions I make. But I'm doing the best I know how. Making the best decisions I can for you and our family."

"I know …" E near whispered – for the first time that whole conversation.

Hank frowned at him but pulled him a bit closer. The kid held stiff against it for a moment but wasn't strong enough and rocked into Voight's side. He rested his mouth against the crown of his kid's head for a moment – not kissing him. Just feeling him there. Maybe still trying to detect the scent kids have up there when they're a newborn – even though that smell had long ago disappeared.

"And, I love you," Voight provided. "And, having you around does make me pretty happy. You cheer me up."


	85. Sharables

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 84 - GRAVESIDE.**

"So what are you getting?" Erin heard Hank rasp.

She thought it was a weird question. He usually didn't give a shit what they were ordering off the menu. But she figured given the prices at this place and the kind of choices it had, he was just gauging what impact this outing was going to have on his wallet. Or more likely, he was hoping she'd say steak or fish and he could give her a face that would clearly indicate that he didn't approve – and that would be his way of projecting that to Olive in an almost polite manner – at least as far as Hank went. But this wasn't the kind of place Erin would ever even consider ordering steak or fish. Hank had raised her better than that. When their family ate out – they ate out. This was not the kind of place they'd normally sit down for a meal in and Hank would open his wallet for. But she knew Olive had picked it.

"Ah … I don't know," she said, glancing around the menu again. At least the lengthy – but rather disgusting – menu gave her an excuse to stare at it for a significant amount of time. It had meant she hadn't had to attempt to make conversation yet. "Maybe … a burger or one of the pastas …" she offered.

But she just felt Hank staring at her. She glanced up. He smacked and shifted his eyes to Ethan who was clearly who the question had been intended for. But Eth was just staring at the pillar aquarium they'd been seated next to. He clearly hadn't looked at his menu at all.

"Ethan," Hank rasped more firmly and his son gave him a glance. "What you eating?"

The kid shrugged. "Nothing," he muttered.

"You're eating something," Hank said more firmly.

Erin let out a little sigh and sunk back in her chair. It clearly was going to be one of those family dinners. Not exactly enjoyable. She gave Olive and the baby a little glance.

Henry was being a trooper. Erin had actually thought all the noise in the place would send him into tears, but he seemed about as fascinated with the fish as Ethan and he'd spotted some of the moving elephants and gorillas too and kept cautiously staring in that direction. He was a pretty good baby. Quiet. Shocking considering who his father was. Maybe he just already didn't have a chance to get a word – or cry – in edgewise. Olive, though, didn't look as enamored with her restaurant choice. She looked beyond awkward sitting there. But as far as Erin was concerned Olive always seemed a little awkward. Like she didn't exactly fit in and was terrified of trying to figure out how to.

Though, Erin also thought Hank had been fairly accepting of her. Far accepting of her than he was with most people. But she'd been lucky in that she was the mother of his grandson. So she got a lot of benefit of the doubt. Even if Hank didn't particularly like her – he'd give her the respect she deserved as the mother of Henry and the wife of his son. Not that he'd ever said anything that indicated he didn't like her either. He actually seemed fairly normal around her. It was more that Hank took a long while to get used to and Olive clearly was still on the learning curve. It'd likely last a while. Or the rest of her life.

"I'm not hungry," Ethan muttered.

"Do I have to get up from this table?" Hank pressed at his son, who let out a small sigh.

The comment was enough for Erin to take some more deep interest in her own menu. Hank getting up from the dinner table – and you being the person who's ear he grabbed as he did – was not something you wanted. Not at home and not in a restaurant. Him vocalizing that meant that you were about a beat away from it happening. It was your first (vocal) and final warning. It meant you better get your attitude in check or shit was about to hit the fan and your ass would likely be smarting in the process. Because he was going to own it.

The message was clear. It was Mother's Day. It was a family dinner. They were out. They were going to eat together. And behave like respectable people in public. If Ethan couldn't handle that – there was going to be hell to pay. He might get his wish of not having to order off the menu – but he also wouldn't be sitting at the table and he probably wouldn't be seeing the outside of his bedroom for days – beyond school and a ridiculous number of chores that were expected to be done at levels of perfection all the while allowance became non-existent for God knows how many weeks.

You didn't fuck with Hank's mealtimes. It was mandatory family time. It'd almost been worse if Camille had asked if she had to get up from the table. Because it'd be a cue to Hank that she was done and he'd take over. If they'd done Camille it – they were in big trouble.

"There's nothing I can eat here," Ethan lamented.

Hank glared at him. "There is lots you can eat here," he stressed at his son. "The chef and the kitchen manner came out to go over the menu with you. Pointed out all kinds of stuff they can modify for you."

"Well, I can't see it," Ethan said, his eyes finding hers.

They were starting to glass. She could tell just by looking at him he was overtired. He'd been up late the night before and he'd refused to sleep on her bed – "because you and Jay have sex there". So he'd slept on the couch and she didn't think he'd slept much and even if he had a couch wasn't that good for his crippled body. He needed a proper bed. Then he'd been working on putting on a front all day in front of Olive – tough guy and disassociated and attitude problem. While he was also struggling emotionally. She could see it in both Ethan and Hank's body language. It wasn't exactly an easy day for them even if it was "just a Hallmark holiday" like Hank tried to dismiss it as. Hard to do when you lived in a society that shoved it in your face and you had one mother sitting at the table with you and you still marked the day by going to your own mother's gravesite.

Ethan was teetering – and she hoped Hank saw that before he ripped into him. She knew he'd been frustrated with how Ethan had been treating Olive that day. She'd got the call that told her that her joining them for dinner was now no longer optional because one of his kids had spent the day treating the woman like a leper and she wasn't going to be doing that too. So she'd come – even though she would've rather avoided it. Though, she supposed getting to see Henry was nice. But she was starting to think she was really going to be mandated with playing referee between Eth and Hank, which she could do without.

She let out a little sigh and leaned forward a bit, touching the top of Eth's menu and meeting Hank's eyes. "It's hard to see in this light, right?" she put to Ethan, though she directed it at Hank. Ethan allowed the smallest nod.

Hank almost glared at her but then pushed back his chair and stood, putting his hand on the back of his son's chair. "Get up," he ordered.

Ethan looked up at him with big sad eyes. "Dad, no," he whined.

Hank shook his head and yanked Ethan's chair out a bit more. "Bring your menu," he said flatly. "We'll go back upfront where the light's better."

Hank moved but Ethan just sat there for a long beat staring at her. "Go with your dad," Erin told him gently.

"I'm pick something," he almost whimpered.

She nodded. "So go and let him help you with the menu. Don't give him lip. Pick something and you'll be OK."

He didn't look like he believed her but after letting out a slow breath, he dragged the menu off the table and trudged over to where Hank was standing near the bar and the reception area of the restaurant. He put his hand on his son's shoulder and guided him around the corner.

Erin gave her head a little shake and looked back at the menu again – trying to still avoid conversation.

"Is everything alright?" Olive asked.

Erin glanced at her and shrugged. "Yea, he just get intimidated in restaurants with his dietary restrictions and can be so … temperamental about eating properly. Then this light," she said and gestured dismissively at the area around them. "He doesn't see very well in low light to even be able to read the menu."

"Sorry …" Olive mumbled.

Erin looked at her a little sympathetically. "Don't be sorry. It will be fine. Hank will read the menu to him. He'll pick something. Problem solved."

Olive gave her a thin smile like she didn't really believe her – or that wasn't even what she was apologizing for in the first place. But Erin didn't really see the point in getting into any of it. She figured whatever Olive was apologizing for – it wasn't her fault. And apologizing things that you didn't do or were beyond your control was pretty much a pointless exercise. She didn't have the space in her life for that.

So she just reached across the table and retrieved the paper headband with a tree frog head printed on it from Eth's spot. He'd given the server a dirty look but hadn't said anything. Sometimes she felt a little sorry for the kid. Since he looked younger than he was – or he was just at that age where you couldn't quite the tell … he could be eight or he could be fifteen. Puberty was weird that way. But since she knew he wouldn't be wearing it, she decided to claim it.

She clipped the little notches around the band into place and set it on her head, turning to Henry and puffing her cheeks out in a silly face and then letting her tongue hang out the side of her mouth. It was her best dead frog impression. But he seemed to like it, letting out a little baby giggle and clapping and then smacking at the top of his highchair. He reached out for her and she leaned in closer to let him smack at her face and the brightly colored headband with big yellow eyes on the top of her head. Though, he seemed more interested in grabbing at her hair and she had to try to thread it out of his fingers when he yanked a little too hard.

"Were you doing Mother's Day Brunch with Jay's family today?" Olive asked, as she smiled at the scene.

Erin sat up straighter and took the headband off her head, working to make it smaller to see if she could get it fit on the top of Henry's head for a photo. Though, he wouldn't likely let it sit there long. It'd be off and smashed up pretty quick.

"Ah, no," she said as she fiddled with it. "Jay's actually lost his mom too."

"Oh …," Olive said gazing at her.

Erin could tell she was now trying to figure out where she'd been all day. Likely assuming that she was avoiding her. Which was kind of true. Erin was still adjusting to the whole Olive and Justin likely coming back to Chicago thing. Justin had put in a teeny amount of effort in doing something that resembled a mea culpa – but hadn't. She'd gotten a birthday card. An ecard. Not a call or real card or gift or anything. And now there was talk of him crashing Ethan's birthday too. It was just all … so Justin. And he was really going to have to try harder. And until he did try harder she was staying as uninvolved as possible.

She didn't really want to be involved – and that included playing nice with Olive. About the most she was interested in was seeing Henry. And if she could come up with a way to do that without having to interact with Justin and Olive in the process – she'd likely do that. But it just hadn't worked out that way this weekend. And Erin wasn't going to lie and create some elaborate story about where she was or what she'd been doing that day. What she'd been doing was having a day to herself. Sort of. She'd had Eth until like 10 a.m. and now she was here tolerating more family time. So she couldn't say it was exactly a day to herself. At least she'd gotten a few hours.

"And he didn't want to come for dinner?" Olive tried instead, though. Like that was a less loaded question. Rather than asking why Erin didn't come over for the afternoon – she just asked why her fiancé didn't want to endure a mandatory family dinner. Not so mandatory. Erin didn't see the point in Jay being there at all.

"I think he's spending some time with his brother today," she muttered and gave Henry another little smile as she deposited the headband on his head. He immediately pulled it off and looked at it before beating it several times against the highchair tray. Erin carefully drew it away from his hands – him letting out a little protest as she did – but she set it back on his head for him to yank it off again. This time he waved it over the edge and dropped it to the floor – forcing her to bend to pick it up.

Truth was she didn't really know what Jay was up to that day. They'd exchanged a couple texts but they weren't attached at the hip. It was a bit of an off day for him too. And he hadn't really wanted to be around her. He wanted his own time and time with Will and she assumed they'd likely been over at the cemetery at some point during the day too. And she'd see him that night. He'd talk to her then if he wanted to. More likely he'd just let her fill space with him while he stared at a documentary and nursed a bottle of beer all night. But at least that was his way of letting her be there for him.

Olive just gazed at her and fidgeted a bit more. She gestured off to where Hank and Ethan had headed. "Hank had mentioned that you and Jay have been looking at some places," she said and Erin cast her a look. She thought there must've been some annoyance to it because Olive recoiled a bit. But she just didn't really like Hank sharing things about her life with Olive because that meant it would get shared with Justin. And if Justin wanted to know what was going on in her life, he could fucking talk to her himself. "Umm … me and Justin are likely going to start looking soon … just online. But if you have any advice about what the rental market is like these days …?"

"We aren't looking to rent," Erin muttered.

"Oh …" Olive said.

Erin gave her another little glance and let out a sight and straightened. "Sorry," she allowed – because it really wasn't Olive's fault. None of it. "Ah … honestly, Hank likely knows more about the real estate market than me. And which neighborhoods you guys might be able to afford or would suit you best or whatever …"

Because Erin also wasn't stupid. She was pretty sure that Hank would be the one managing most of this. Dealing with looking at places for them. Signing any lease or being a guarantor. He'd likely even "spot" Justin whatever deposit or money had to be put down upfront. And she knew Justin would also likely never pay it back. But that was just how it worked. It was what he did for his son.

Meanwhile, he knew that her and Jay were looking and there'd been no offer of help or advice – financial or otherwise. But she supposed she wasn't his "daughter". And maybe she didn't really want to know what he thought anyways. She'd shut him down when he'd given her his opinion about her condo – and condo fees, and the development and the contractors building it and the general location in the city. So he was likely just keeping his shut this time. When this time she might not mind a little bit of input or maybe some help with the down payment for the mortgage – because her and Jay were struggling a bit to scrape that together. It'd be OK if she sold her place but she was reluctant to let it go still – not without having something else lined up or having been married for a couple years. But she got that the financial situation she'd gotten herself into wasn't Hank's problem to solve. He didn't owe her. And it wasn't like he had money coming out of his ass. If anything he was bleeding money anymore with Eth's health and things and therapies that weren't covered. But still.

Sometimes it all felt a little imbalance about who got the money and where it went and why. And then if she dwelled on that too much she always just ended up at the conclusion that she wasn't really his "daughter" and it just made her get into this whole questioning of her role and value in the family. Especially anymore. Because it seemed so unfair. Her contributions versus Justin's. But she supposed you didn't do things for your family to earn some sort of line of credit.

"Well … where are you guys looking …?" Olive asked.

Erin eyed her. She almost didn't want to say. Like her saying it would prompt Justin to tell his Dad that that's where him and Olive wanted to raise Henry while they were back in town. And it'd be them who ended up in one of those places – not her and Jay.

But she gazed at the woman and put flatly, "We've looked at some split-level condos in the Ukrainian Village and a couple townhouses in Roscoe Village."

Olive's eyes seemed to get bigger at that. But Erin just let it sit with her. The fact she had a serious answer. To drive home just how unengaged Justin had been in her life lately while she'd been invested in his while he was moving to base and getting Olive moved to base and married and their home established and nursery set up for Henry. She'd called. She'd gone down an helped on some of her days off. She'd sent gifts for the baby. And for their "wedding". She'd tried. She'd been involved. And Justin hadn't given a shit with her shifting circumstances in life. The most she'd gotten was sent updated photos of Henry – and those were via Olive, not Justin. Not her brother she'd grown up with. Her brother she'd been there for when his mom had died and when he'd ended up getting his dad thrown in jail and had to deal with his own court dates and lock-up. Her brother she'd picked up when he'd walked out of those gates. And her brother she'd got sorted when he'd been an accomplice to murder. And he couldn't even be happy for her for her engagement. Couldn't send a real card or give her a call on her thirtieth birthday. Couldn't check in with her to see house the house hunting and wedding planning was going.

He was just being so Justin. But that meant he was being an asshole.

"Those are … really … family oriented …" Olive managed to get out.

Erin nodded and shrugged, putting the headband back on her head and leaning in to let Henry bat at the frog's eyes. "Yeah," she acknowledged. "But if we're going to buy, we're thinking long-term."

The truth was that she hadn't really considered either of those neighborhoods before. It'd been Jay who'd suggested Ukrainian Village as a compromise to some of the other areas she'd outright turned down. And she'd been surprised how much she liked it. She could see maybe eventually not liking it since it was sort of trend right now. But it had a lot of the old-style buildings that Jay liked. But condos and he really wanted a house.

The kinds of houses they'd looked at in Roscoe Village weren't exactly what Jay had in mind when he thought about a house. But Erin had really fallen in love with a couple of the different developments and communities they'd looked at. The townhouses were beautiful. It was the house-like dwelling that Jay wanted and it was the modern, condo-feel that she liked. She could still have her granite counter tops and floor-to-ceiling windows. But they could have multiple floors and multiple bedrooms and a big balcony and even a garage. With a mortgage that was within their reach. Almost.

And as much as she'd thought she'd despise Roscoe and its reputation for young professionals with their double-wide strollers – that wasn't the vibe she got when she was there. Yeah, there were young families with their kids and their dogs everywhere. But was that a bad thing at where they were in their lives? A family-oriented neighborhood wasn't a downside. And as they'd wandered around a bit and enjoyed the cafes and pubs and saw the starts of the patios being readied for summer and the places for brunch and the trendy little shops for knick-knack and antique and vinyl browsing – she could see them living there. Finding spots and hang-outs for themselves. Finding things to wander around and look at.

Sure there wasn't a ton of park space in the area but that wasn't a big issue at the moment and it wasn't like they were confined to Roscoe. They weren't too far from the lakeshore and they'd be near Wrigley Field – if Eth needed additional excuse to be crashing with them all the time. They'd only be about four miles from the Loop and not much more from work. Public transit wasn't great – but it bordered the neighborhood and they both had vehicles anyway. It seemed like it was really worth considering. Not that they were jumping blindly into anything. But they were starting to explore their options. Educate themselves a bit.

But none of that was anything she particularly felt like sharing with Olive. A lot of it she hadn't even shared with Hank. Just told him they were looking. Pulled out of babysitting or medical appointment duties a few times because her and Jay were already booked or planning to go to an open house or viewing. And when she gave that excuse he didn't give her a look or a comment. He just grunted. And that grunt was his approval. His quiet expression of pleasure that they were moving in that direction. Doing things the "right way". And maybe they were. And maybe that was something Erin wanted too. Needed. For both her and for Jay. Maybe for Hank and Ethan too. But, again, that wasn't a conversation she wanted to have with Olive.

And she didn't have to because Hank and Ethan came back to the table. Ethan still looked overtired and like he'd been too emotionally frustrated by this whole day, or visit, or interaction, or meal out. But he gazed at her.

"Ask …" Hank put flatly, not taking his seat yet, clearly indicating that whatever had happened in the lobby wasn't quite done yet.

"Erin, will you share the fajitas with me?" Ethan asked quietly.

Erin glanced at the menu. She vaguely remembered seeing it listed. But it was for two and it wasn't exactly the kind of restaurant she'd ordered that in either.

But it was Ethan. And Ethan was someone she was willing to share things with. A whole lot of things. This twelve year old likely knew more about her and Jay's life than Olive and Justin.

So she just gave him a small smile and a little nod. "Sure," she allowed. "Chicken or steak?"

 **AUTHOR NOTE: A chapter was added earlier today — Vagina Talk — and one was added last night — Graveside. They are the two chapters before this. Please make sure you didn't miss them. Reviews and feedback are always appreciated.**


	86. Cake

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 71 - SPECIAL.**

Voight tucked his hands into the front of his vest, as he walked up to where Dawson was putting the long guns away in the back of the vehicle. Their suspect was being hauled away to the District for questioning and they were still hanging around mopping up the mess and dealing with HQ people who always had to find some ways to breath down your neck to make doing your job right that much harder.

"Hey," Voight rasped at him.

Dawson gave him a glance. "Just about good to go," he said.

Voight nodded. "Good," he said but watched him stowing away the weapons for another second. "Not work related," he rasped and Dawson gave him another look. "Your family still running the bakery?"

Dawson went back to his work, slapping shut the cases and reaching for the trunk to close it. "Yea …" he allowed. "Laura's kept it going with her sister."

Voight nodded, running his tongue along the front of his teeth. "They do specialty jobs?"

Dawson leaned against the back of the car, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Sometimes. But not usually weddings."

Voight made and noise and looked away for a moment – back to the police hubbub at the entrance of the building. He usually liked to be the hell out of there before any of the hubbub fucking showed up. But the commander got him cornered in there. Fucking high profile businessman types caused that kind of attention where it usually wasn't warranted.

"I'm not getting involved in that crap," he muttered. And it was Dawson's turn to make an amused noise and Voight met his eyes again. "Let them get around to planning their own wedding." Dawson allowed a wry smile. "Ethan's birthday's in a couple weeks. This anti-inflammatory diet they have him on. Been looking at cake recipes. There's no way I'm going to be able to get those ingredients to turn into anything remotely edible. You think Laura might want to give it a whirl?"

Dawson seemed to examine him for longer than he wanted at that. Didn't usually say too much to the squad about Magoo's health issues – even though they all knew he had them. For the most part, though, they were all respecting his privacy. Hadn't done anything to make shit awkward by asking questions or dredging up shit in front of E that might make him uncomfortable too. Or worse – treating him like he was sick. Voight fucking hated when people acknowledged his illness and disability in a way that felt like sympathy or pity. His boy didn't need that. And neither did he.

But Dawson was smart about it. Took the information that had been offered up and didn't ask for more beyond what was pertinent in that moment. "Can ask," he allowed. "You got some recipe you want her to try?"

Voight just pouted and shook his head. "Not really. Lots of stuff online. Don't know enough about the chemistry of baking to tell which one might actually taste like something a thirteen year old would eat."

"OK," Dawson said. "Wanna give me a list of what he can't have or whatever so she can see what she thinks she can do?"

Voight shook his head. "Bro, it'd be a shorter list for me to tell you what he can eat."

Dawson looked at him for a long beat. Could see the processing. "That bad?"

"Fucking ridiculous," Voight put flatly.

Dawson stared for a moment longer but then shifted his eyes back front. Their operation hadn't been a shit show. They'd gotten in and taken down their guy without incident. It was the political tizzy after that'd attracted attention. And now the media was showing up. More reason to get out of there soon. Didn't believe in being anywhere near cameras. Though they were far enough off that the fucking journalists wouldn't likely be astute enough to notice them. To see the pieces to start putting together the real story and not the spin that was going to get put on this in the fall-out. Fucking fall-out that shouldn't be fall-out. Bad guys were bad guys. All the same – no matter the color of their collar or how shiny the building they worked out of was.

"How you feel about Diego taking a crack at it?" Dawson asked.

Voight grunted and cast him a side-glance. Considering that he'd already approached a couple bakeries about taking on this shit – before asking Dawson to approach his estranged wife about a solid. Long time bakers had pretty much laughed him off the premise. Even the fucking granola freak places – fucking vegans and gluten-free bullshit that wanted to hand over half your pension for a fucking birthday cake – had scoffed at his business when he'd started listing off what his boy couldn't have in the thing. Not that he thought it'd be the end of the world if his son didn't have a birthday cake. But E didn't get a lot of treats and he was a normal kid who missed his junk food and didn't fully understand why he wasn't allowed all the stuff that everyone else around him got to eat whenever they wanted. And it was his thirteenth. A year since his boy had come home. And a hell of a fucking year. His kid deserved a cake, if he could figure out how to manage one for him. But he wasn't sure that another 12-year-old kid was going to be the one to pull that off.

"He a Cake Boss or something?" Voight muttered.

Dawson snorted. "He thinks he is," he allowed with some mild distaste apparent in his voice. But he must've caught himself and his face changed to depict his own taste – self-censorship – of the comment he'd made. "He's always liked helping his mom out in the bakery."

"Mmm …" Voight grunted and bounced his hands in his vest. "Youngest boys. They belong to their mothers."

He learned that over and over again. Still now without Magoo having his ma around, he was all Camille's. So much so. She'd just be over the moon with the little man their miracle baby was becoming. Hard to believe that their unexpected arrival – that baby they'd given up on even trying for – was about to turn thirteen.

A fucking teenager. Like they would want to go through a third one of those in their fifties. Voight didn't think he'd be dealing with the same challenges as with J and Erin but E would be presenting his own set of them. Some challenges are the same at that age no matter the kid. But they all bring their own individual spin to the teen years.

Thing was though that even though the days are long – the years were short. Celebrating thirteen now meant that eighteen was going to be there in the blink of an eye. He hardly fucking knew where the first thirteen years of his baby boy's life had gone. Childhood was disappearing so fast. A blackhole. Weird to think that in five short years all his kids would technically be "grown". Thankfully he'd at least have one grandkid – hopefully a couple more by then – around.

Kids around was important with the job. Kept you grounded. Constant reminder of the important things. Family. It was the most important thing. He knew how much having his youngest back in his daily life had helped center him again the past year. It'd been good for him. Thought it was good for the job too. Being a better father made him better at his job too.

Camille would've told him that before he'd fucked up the decision on how to manage E in the first place. And she would've fucking loved to see him now. They still would've been two peas in a pod with all his science-y interests. He did OK with encouraging it. But Camille – she would've known how to nurture it. Develop it.

Eth would always be her baby. Hank would be spending the rest of his life being conscious of that. Magoo was hers. He was just along for the ride.

"He wants to do a football training camp this summer," Dawson muttered. "You should see the price of these things."

Voight just grunted in response to that. He didn't need to see them. He remembered how much even those week-long training camps had cost when Justin had been hard into hockey and football. A fucking arm and a leg. And scrapping together that money on a detective's salary when you had other kids at home and other bills to pay and still had to deal with all the equipment fees and participation fees with the actual team. Some years, there just wasn't enough kicking around to sign him up. But at that age – a lot of boys – sports, participation, competition, success in the competition – it was everything. Self-worth and self-image and self-esteem was all wrapped up in it. A whole lot of pressure for them to participate in those things.

He was even seeing it with Magoo now with the Robotics. The competitive side – and the expense – of these academic style clubs and teams had really been driven home to him that winter. Robotics sure as fuck hadn't been cheap for E to participate in. And how with the season over, he was already looking ahead to next year and talking about how many of the kids from the team would be off at these Robotics and Engineering summer camp programs at some of the universities in the fall. How it gave them a competitive edge at tryouts. How it caught more coding and new strategies and kept him up-to-date with his skills. And that sounded fair enough.

But Hank had gone and looked into these camps that his boy had his heart set on. Fucking $1,200 per week! PER FUCKING WEEK! And E would be wanting to go to more than one week of the damn things. Not to mention, even if he'd somehow been able to justify paying that much for a single week of summer camp, he'd still have to be handing out dough for the fucking city or rehab center day camp he'd have his boy at for the rest of the summer. Both which cost SIGNIFICANTLY less for a whole fucking summer of supervised activity than a single week of these things.

It was just too much. He didn't have that kind of dough around anymore. And dropping that kind of dough when you're a single family household living off on a CPD salary only attracted unwanted attention anyway. He knew even if he had the want and the means, there were going to be eyes on him for the rest of his career, given what'd gone down. So it wasn't an option.

Try explaining that to a twelve year old kid who'd finally found something that he liked and was excelling in? When he already struggled so much to fit in and keep up with the rest of the kids at St. Iggy's. But Voight had to keep their family's situation in perspective with the other two kids while they were at Ignatius. Couldn't be keeping up with the Jones. That wasn't them. Never would be. Still, E hadn't taken the news well. Heartbroken the kid a bit that night. But it was what it was.

"Told him he had to save up for it and help out," Dawson added, giving him a glance. "So he's always looking for a way to make some extra dough."

"Mmm …" Voight nodded. He could respect that. Tried to teach the same to his own kids. "Yea, sure," Voight allowed of the proposal. "But maybe Laura could help him out."

Dawson nodded without comment. But it was enough. Trusted that Antonio would look into it. See if it would work out. Hopefully it would. Otherwise his kid was likely getting fruit salad on his birthday. Stick a candle in that.

"You can bring him around on his birthday too, if you want," Voight offered. "Drop off the cake. Give him the cash. Stick around for a piece."

"You renting a videogame truck?" Dawson deadpanned.

Voight allowed an amused noise at Dawson's flippancy and the conflict around his own kid's birthday a few month's back.

The fucking videogame systems. Voight was fucking sick of hearing about them too. Magoo had made it pretty clear that what he wanted for his birthday was one of the fucking things that was apparently better than whatever they'd gone and hooked up in his living room without asking.

The kid was going to be sadly disappointed. Wasn't happening. He decided he wanted to spend his own money on that bullshit – fine. But even if he did, that wouldn't be changing the rules about what he could play on it. So seemed like a pretty fucking big waste of money to him.

But Voight just adjusted his hands again.

"Nah, E lacks in the friends department," he put flatly and Dawson gave another glance that was clearly some kind of measure of the statement.

But it was just a statement of fact. Wasn't looking for sympathy or pity. It was just reality. E wasn't great at relating to other kids. Voight could see why. Had observed enough of his son's social interactions to realize that his kid didn't know what the hell he was doing. He was only so good at teaching his boy how to deal with that better. Some ways that wasn't really something you could teach – at least not in a way that mitigated the awkwardness that was his brain-injured kid. And when he was dealing with kids in that age range. They weren't that understanding of E's quirks and twitches. Some people never would be. They were all learning to accept that was just the way it was and to just keep encouraging him (or outright shoving him) into social situation and interactions with kids his age in the hopes that eventually he'd latch onto a group that didn't keep him at arm's length.

"We're just going to stakeout a park near the house. Throw some brats on grill. Toss the ball around. Just bought a catcher's mitt with his allowance. Trying to give me little league elbow with amount he's got me out back pitching to him."

Dawson gave him an amused smile. As much as the guy smiled, which was probably at about the same level was him.

But E's enjoyment out of the youth diability ball league did make Voight smile. E wasn't to the point that he was able to go to the standard league tryouts. Had thought his stubborn-fuck of a kid would decide he was going to sit out another season of the sport he loved. But he'd sucked it up and gone to check out the disability league at the Rehab Center. Figured part of it was because the team was sponsored by the Cubs – and literally called the Cubs – and came with opportunities to meet some of the players and get out on the field at Wrigleys and that he'd be wearing his own Cubs uniform with the Voight name on the back for the season. But Voight didn't really care what the reasons were. What he cared about was that his kid was doing it.

And Eth was really doing it. There hadn't been a whole lot of competition for positions. So when Magoo told them he wanted to play catcher – a position that all the coaches he'd previously played under shied from with him with him being a southpaw – they hadn't said boo. Got the spot. Boom.

Voight wasn't sure how that would go. The crouching. The kind of strength that his kind would need in his legs and arm to be playing that position and tossing the ball. But even though there'd been some pain in the beginning. He'd fallen on his ass and flat on his face more than one. But the stubborn-fuck kept fighting through it – just like he did everything. And Voight had watched how in a period of all five weeks, his boy had regained some balance and strength and posture. His stamina was getting better. He still crashed from exhaustion and ached after a game or practice – but his kid was smiling. And he was doing something that he loved that for a while there Voight thought he was going to have lost – along with a lot of other physical activities.

So he was just as happy to toss the ball for his kid as his kid was to have it tossed at him.

"O's likely going to bring Michelle around," Voight allowed. "Maybe a couple other kids will show up. Not holding my breath. He's been shy about inviting anyone."

Dawson nodded. "I think he's invited a couple other kids at the gym," he allowed.

Voight grunted. "Yea, told him to invite a few kids from there. School. Ball. Robotics. Haven't heard anything back. But it's an informal thing," he said and shrugged.

Truth was he didn't know what to expect. He'd told E he could invite ten kids. Enough for him to have a decent pick-up game in the little sand lot. Reasonable enough number that he could feed them on the cheap when it was just brats, pickles, and corn chips and salsa that Eth was asking for.

But Voight didn't know shit about hosting a party. Especially for kids that age. The couple very small affairs they'd done when the kids were real little had been Camille's domain. He wasn't even really sure he'd call them a party. Some family and friends with their little ones over. And this wasn't so different.

It was just supervising a group of kids for a couple hours and giving them a meal, which he'd do anyway if E ever invited a kid over to the house. Which he also didn't. And he hadn't been invited much of anywhere to hang out either. So that was really why he'd said ten. He figured with ten invites out there maybe at least two or three of the kids would show up. But apparently RSVPs were a thing of the past. Supposed he could only expect so much when he was trying to keep it informal. Didn't like shit to be all formal anyways and making it no big deal took some of the pressure off E too. Because he was likely going to be hurt if was labeled a real party and no one showed. Though, he seemed to be avoiding inviting people that wouldn't show. The fucking kid had invited Mouse, Erin and Halstead – and informed Voight that counted toward his ten invites.

Those three sure was fuck didn't count. But he supposed at least there'd be some people there for the kid. It'd just be nice if some of those people weren't over the age of fifteen. He'd expressed as much to Magoo, who'd said that he could tell Halstead to invite his brother because then he'd likely bring Dr. Manning and the baby so there'd be another kid. The whole thing was starting to sound more like he was hosting some sort of engagement party barbecue for Erin and Halstead and not a thirteen birthday party for his son.

But some things were worth fighting about with your kids. This didn't need a conflict. It was E's day. They'd make the best of it whatever it brought.

Dawson just nodded, though. "I'll talk to him about it."

Voight grunted and started to walk away. That was that. Sometimes you just had to wait to see how things played out. Set shit in motion and then watch the pieces fall. Do your best to be prepared for unexpected tumbles. He was pretty fucking good at that.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Another chapter got posted earlier this morning. The one ahead of this — NOBODY — please check it out.**


	87. Leftovers

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 82 - CAKE.**

"Oh, shit," Jay near yelled and leaped forward so hard that he jarred Erin to the point that he almost knocked her off the couch.

She cast him a look, looking her eyes slightly. He didn't even notice. He was still sitting on the edge of his seat and staring at the game on the screen. So she let her eyes shift back to the Hawks too. Not that she was particularly interested – but she was a Chicagoan and a cop, so she basically had a duty to be engaged on some level in their playoff efforts.

She only had so much time to spot the puck and watch the nail-biting action, though, because Hank appeared in the entranceway from the dining room. "Want to talk to you," he put flatly.

She allowed him a small glance but again shifted her eyes back to the game. "They're in overtime," she muttered. "Don't you want to be watching this?"

Hank had ended up walking away from the game to go do Eth's lights-out thing and when he'd come back down he'd disappeared downstairs. Erin had assumed he'd gotten some sort of call or text while he was upstairs with Eth and was dealing with it out of earshot. But he'd been down there so long she'd kinda wonder. Though, not enough to go looking for him – because sometimes it was best not to ask too many questions when it came to Hank and the kind of calls he took and that kind of conversations he had down in the basement or out on the back porch. Still, she'd thought when he was done with whatever it was he was dealing with – if he wasn't heading out of the house – he'd be watching the game. Not pulling all of them away from it.

"Now," he ordered even more sharply.

She sighed at him. She quickly ran through her mind what the fuck she might've said or done that night that Eth would've blabbed at him and Hank had decided he'd disapproved of. But Hank had been so fucking ornery lately, who fucking knew what she could've said that got taken out of context and he'd now decided he had a stick up his ass about.

Still, she pulled herself off the couch and started for the door but he cast his eyes at Jay. "Him too," he rasped and disappeared back into the living room.

Erin shifted her eyes to Jay and cocked her eyebrow. So maybe it was him who'd done something wrong. He did have his feet on Hank's couch earlier – even socked that could be a punishable offense. But Jay gaped at her and gestured at the game – very clearly protesting that he didn't want to move.

Erin just shrugged at him. If he wanted to risk life and limb by ignoring his summons, that was his business. Apparently her shrug conveyed that – or he had enough experience with Voight, in and out of the bullpen, now that he knew that keeping his ass planted there was just asking for trouble. So he let out a long sigh but reached for the remote and begrudgingly turned off the television before rising and following her.

But she found herself raising her eyebrow again as she got into the dining room and Hank had situated himself in his chair against the china cabinet – leaning back and just waiting their arrival.

"What's up?" she asked, crossing her arms. Because this was feeling a little too much like she was back in high school and she was about to have her allowance taken away and be assigned some sort of chore and responsibility list she needed to complete to get out of being grounded.

"Sit," he said and gestured at the chairs across from him.

Erin glanced at Jay as he came to a stop behind her and took in the scene too. She could feel him bristle a bit and knew he already wasn't impressed too. As if he hadn't already been annoyed about not getting to watch the final minutes of an overtime match.

But Erin played along, pulling on a chair and setting herself down, re-crossing her arms and resting her elbows on the table – was if bad manners was the way to prove her defiance over whatever this was about. She knew how Hank was about dining room and sitting at that table. Or rather how Camille had treated that room and its importance. And it pressed the right button – because he made a face and smacked at her.

"This is feeling a little like we're about to have a chat about my report card," Erin said flatly as Jay cautiously took a seat next to her. She could tell from his stiff body language that he'd actually considered staying standing – just to prove his own defiance about whatever this was.

Hank just grunted at that and patted at the arm of his chair before pointing across the table to where her engagement ring was resting against her bicep in her loosely crossed arms. "Five months today since you put that thing on," he said. "As your boss, haven't told me what you're thinking about work. As your father, haven't told me a date."

Erin glanced at Jay at that – feeling a small panic creep up on her. She thought they had more time. That Hank would drop enough hints and body language about when he was running out of patience that they'd have at least a couple weeks in the final crunch of working out how they wanted to do this. Because as much as they knew what they were going to do – it wasn't a plan they wanted to set in motion yet. Neither of them wanted to leave Intelligence. They both wanted to hold onto their spots there for as long as they could. As long as Hank would let them. And with the way he just phrased it – that look he was giving her – she felt like he was going to make them tell him their decision – their plan – right there. Right then. Right now.

"Ah, well-" Jay started to try to answer for them. But she didn't want him to. She didn't want him to put his head out there on the chopping block. For him to be the martyr for them – and their relationship and her career.

"We haven't set a date yet," she interrupted quickly and firmly – drilling her eyes into Hank. Trying to silently demand that he back down. That they not do it this way. Not right there. Right now.

"Why?" Hank asked flatly. His eyes remaining unflinching on her.

Because if we give you a damn date for the wedding, we're giving you the damn date for one of us leaving, she wanted to spit at him. We're putting our careers on a timer. And, we might be ready for marriage – but we aren't ready for that.

But before she'd spewed angry words at him, he'd asked even more flatly, "Money?" he asked.

Erin squinted at him at that and again opened and shut her mouth trying to find words. Something to spit at him. Because he'd asked her near nothing about the wedding plans up until that point. There'd been not questions about venue or catering or the dress or number of guests. The sole comment he'd made to her about any of it had been done in passing – and almost as a joke – though she hadn't interrupted as one: "As long as I don't have to pay for it."

But again before she gave him sarcasm or annoyance he'd lifted a hand off his lap and tossed a letter-sized envelop onto the center of the table. Her eyes shifted down to it with some question but her face changed – falling – as she saw Camille's neat cursive writing on the front, having just spelled out, "Erin – Wedding".

"You can take it," Hank said when she just sat there staring at it. "It's yours."

She just gazed at it more. "What is it?" she asked.

She didn't really have to. It was clear from the size of envelope and the bulk of it – exactly what it was.

But Hank just shrugged like it wasn't a stupid question. "Some cash Camille was putting away for you. Don't know how much it is. Her thing. Her money. It's been down in the safe waiting for you."

Erin slowly reached for it. The envelope was a little faded and felt a little brittle. It was clear it'd been around much longer than the almost six years Camille had been gone. Her finger set on the writing. The small indentation in the paper and the curve of the lines of ink. It'd been a long time since she'd seen any of Camille's writing.

She felt like she wasn't supposed to look in the envelope. But she found her fingers working at the flap – flipping it open. Not because she was eager to get to the money – but because she hoped there was a note. An explanation. Some bit of Camille – some extra closure – that she'd been missing. Some sort of … something. Something to tell her why someone would do something like this for her. But there wasn't a note. Why would there be? Camille had likely expected to be the one handing it to her. She would've thought she would've gotten to provide her own explanation or deflect any of Erin's arguments about accepting the help.

"Hank …" she shook her head and let the envelope slowly set down on the table – even though part of her wanted to hold onto it … tightly. Again, not because of the money. But because it was Camille. It was Camille doing something kind and generous and supportive of her. Her being hopefully and optimistic about her future. Her planning and making sacrifices for her family. "There's … a lot of money in here."

And there was. She'd barely peeked inside but it was enough of a look to see that there were tens and twenties mostly and some fivers. Even in the brief peek to search for that unfound letter – she'd spotted a fifty. It was clear it was whatever Camille could spare a given week or a given month. Not leftovers from the family budget – but whatever she put aside for herself, which never was much anyways because it was always about the family. But the little bit that she might've been able to use to go out for lunch with colleagues or to save up for a sundress or a new pair of sandals or some of those cheapie plastic but stylist sunglasses she seemed to love for out on the water but was always losing to the depths of lakes and rivers because she hated the straps to keep them in place on her face. But instead of using – saving – that little bits of money for some small luxuries of her own – it'd been placed in this envelop for her. Erin didn't know for how long. But she was going to guess it'd started within the first year of her being in the Voights' house – of her being home – and had continued until the month or week that family had died.

She felt herself struggling with it. The slow wave over her about how much Camille had done for her. The quiet ways she'd cared. The example she'd set – about how to be a wife and a mother and a woman. How even now – when she was gone – she was still showing her that love and support. Those things that had been so lacking for the first fourteen years of her life. Things she didn't know a mother could be – or even should be. Yet now she feared that she wouldn't ever be able to live up to those standards that Camille had shown her – set for her, taught her.

She glanced at Jay – almost asking permission to feel what she was feeling. Wanting to look anywhere but Hank because she could feel the glass setting in her eyes and she knew if she looked at him he'd have the same look. And he'd be biting the inside of his cheek or pulling at his lower lip like he did when he was thinking about Camille – and what he'd lost … what they'd all lost – and be trying to hide all of his own emotions.

"You should keep this," Erin finally managed to push out, moving her eyes back to him. She saw him shake his head but she shoved the envelope back to the center of the table. "Hank, there's easily a couple thousand dollars in there. That could go a long way with Ethan right now."

But he just shook his head again, letting that hand come down from his lip, in his efforts to hide the emotions on his face. He looked her firmly in the eyes. "It's her money," he said sternly – in a way that would be no argument, none that he'd listen to. "It's what she wanted done with it."

Erin sighed hard and looked down – she shoulders slumping as she shook her head at the table. Trying to come up with something to say. Something that would convince him what they both knew – that the money would be better spent in another way. That Ethan had lots of therapies that weren't covered. That the cash would more than help with some of the fees that Hank did have to pay at St. Ignatius even though Ethan was a bursary kid. That Camille had a grandson now that she would've been putting away cash for too. That Hank could take it and put it in Henry's education fund. There were lots of other things – better things, more important things, more helpful and more meaningful things – than her wedding.

"I think she meant it to go toward the dress," Hank offered more gently and Erin gave him a little glance. It'd been the dress that he'd said "as long as I don't have to pay for it". But he'd known – known then. That he'd never have to pay for it. That Camille had already paid for it. Had saved for it – years ago. "But I know you aren't thinking anything too fancy so if there's left over or you just want to put it toward the venue or the catering, I don't think she'd mind."

"Hank …" Erin shook her head.

But he held up a hand. "It's not going back in the safe and I don't want that kind of cash just left sitting out on the table."

Erin just sighed again. So his eyes moved from hers to Jay's and he reached to take the envelop and this time tossed it so it was sitting inches from where Jay was sitting uncharacteristically silent. She felt him twitch next to her and look at the envelope. But then he reached and put his hand over it and drew it a little closer – making the decision and ending the argument for her. Because he knew what it was like to lose a mother. To miss that care and support and love and uncompromising willing sacrifice. To wish she was there to see what you'd managed to do with your life. To meet the person you were going to make a family with – your own family, one like she'd shown you how to establish and raise and care for. To help you plan and make decisions about this special day that maybe might not feel so special because she was going to be absent from it – when she was one of the people who'd got you there in the first place. And now here she was again – providing some of the means to help you get there, to make it a bit easier and a bit more manageable and a little less stressful – but again … she wasn't going to get to be there. And that hurt. So badly.

"Thank you," Jay offered quietly.

Hank just grunted an acknowledgement and sat back in his chair again.

Erin could feel him watching her. She could feel the emotion in his eyes. But she couldn't bring herself to look at him. Nor at Jay. Because she was still trying to compose herself. The only thing that pulled her out of it was Bear setting his big head in her lap and smacking his lips and gazing up at her. It made her let out a quiet noise and a little smile, as she reached to scratch at his head.

"Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?" she whispered to him.

"Mutt's not a sixth sense about who's in need of cheering up," Hank provided.

She did allow him a little look with a thin smile. "Doesn't that mean he should be over sucking up to you?"

"Hmm," Hank allow dismissively. "Don't tell Magoo but the mutt comes down every night to read and watch the news with me. Him and the kid don't got the same light's out."

Erin allowed him an evener smile at that. That was interesting too because Bear didn't come back down the nights she was there with Ethan. He was always up in bed with Eth. But apparently he was Hank's dog as much as her brother's. And maybe it was true that he did have a sense about who needed him in a particular moment. She didn't really like the idea of Hank sitting up alone at night either. It made her feel a little better he had company.

Hank drummed his fingers on the table and eyed her a bit, though, he glanced at Jay.

"How's the hunt for a place going?" he asked flatly.

Erin allowed a little shrug and set her attention back on massaging Bear's ears. He seemed to like it. "We're just looking," she said.

"Hmm …," Hank allowed. "Got an agent yet?"

"No," Erin said with just a touch of annoyance. Now it was starting to feel like they'd moved out of a super emotional moment that she was still dealing with right into an interrogation. She wasn't interested in going through that.

"Gone into the bank yet?" he asked instead. But she could feel that his eyes were on Jay for that one. So she rose her line of sight from the dog to glare at Hank but he ignored her. He was trained right in on Jay.

"Yes," he provided but with his own edge.

Hank just made another little noise and nodded. He gestured at Jay again – like this was now a conversation he was having with him and he wasn't going to look at Erin at all, no matter how much she locked her own gaze on him. "You get pre-approved for a mortgage?"

"We did some looking at our finances and talked about our options and what we can afford," Jay put bluntly. The underlying 'it's none of your business' line was front and center, if unsaid.

But Hank just grunted again. "Can be hard to get the cash together for a down payment with the way CPD salaries are first five years in a new rank and then with the price of some of the shit in the city anymore. Gentrification. Condo developments."

Jay just sat there stony faced. Dead silent. But Erin knew his face said it all. And the three of them just had a nice moment – she didn't want them to lose that by Hank opening up some sort of man-to-man that Jay clearly was unwilling to have with him and that Erin was unwilling to sit there and pretend like she wasn't part of the conversation, equation, finances or decision-making process.

"Hank," she warned bluntly.

He looked at her and drummed his fingers on the table again. But then he leaned and opened one of the lower cabinet doors and pulled out a stack of paper – this time setting it on the table between her and Jay.

Erin glanced at it. She couldn't even tell what it was. Some sort of bank statement. She just shook her head and looked at him, raising her eyebrow and shrugging.

"Your share of your mom's life insurance," he put flatly. "In the bank. Collecting interest."

She squinted at him. "What?" she asked confused.

"Camille's life insurance," he put flatly.

Erin shook her head even more confused. "You spent Camille's life insurance," she stuttered. "The legal costs and Ethan's boarding school and …"

Hank shook his head. "Put some money aside for the family – after the funeral costs and medical bills. So, yeah, that's gone. But about half of it got split up between you three kids. Separate accounts each. Same amounts starting out. Guess Magoo might make out the best. He'll get more years interest than you and Justin."

She gaped at him.

"Gave Justin his last year. The house. The baby," he put flatly.

She shook her head again. "You told him—"

"I know what I told him," Hank rasped. "You think your brother could've handled being handed that kind of cash the day after he walked outta Statesville?"

Erin sat there and stared more at the bottom line on the stack of papers. "Hank … it's nearly forty-thousand dollars …"

He shrugged. "Should go a long way toward a down payment."

She let out a breath and gazed at Jay and then at Hank. "Hank …" she sputtered again. "I … mean … I really appreciate that … this … but that's not fair to you. Or Ethan or Justin. Camille—"

"Camille raised you like her own. We both did. You're our child. You lost her too. You deserve a piece of the money we got for that loss – just as much as either of your brothers," he put so firmly that a vein bulged out of his neck. "Won't bring her back. Doesn't compensate you kids for her not being here now. But Camille would be happy to know that this money could be used toward something like you kids getting your own homes, starting your own families. That you're set up in a good, safe, stable place and that her grandkids will be getting a home like that too." His eyes had moved over to Jay as he drilled home that last sentence.

But then his face softened a bit again and he rose from his chair. He circled around the table and leaned – pressing a kiss into the top of her hair. As he straightened he scrubbed at his face.

"I'm gonna turn in," he said. "You let me know when you're more than just looking and want me to get that account cashed out for you." He started to move out of the room, slapping firmly on his pant leg to get Bear to jerk away from her lap and follow after him. But he stopped ever so briefly to give Jay a squeeze on the shoulder. "Let me know about the date and the work thing too," he rasped. "Then you can start working on the grandchild thing for me and your mom too …"

"She didn't even like me when you brought me home …" Erin near whispered. She wasn't sure she meant Hank to hear. But he did.

He made a little dismissive noise but didn't stop his movement toward the stairs, already switching out the lights in the house. "But she more than loved you by the time she was gone," he said flatly, "and she'd be so proud of the woman you've become, Kiddo."

She heard a small creak on the first step and Bear's claws clicking up the rest of them in rapid succession.

"Lock up when you leave, if you two aren't sleeping here tonight," he muttered, as Erin gazed at Jay – again struggling to process how to accept any of this. And she could tell that Jay was struggling with it just as much too.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: The chapter before this — Nice Thoughts — was posted earlier tonight. The four before that were posted on the weekend. So many posted so close together means lots of people are missing some. Please backtrack and make sure you haven't. Reviews and feedback are appreciated.**


	88. Vagina Talk

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS SET AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 82 - CAKE.**

Erin sighed apologetically as she slid onto the stool at the table Burgess was already occupying. But Kim wasn't looking at her or the apologies she was trying to wordlessly project – she was gazing slightly surprised behind her at Ethan's defiant trudge to the table. Erin glanced over her shoulder and sighed more annoyed, gesturing for him to hurry it up.

She turned back to Kim. "Yeah," she rolled her eyes. "Hank dumped him on me this morning. Unannounced. Apparently he needs a few sanity hours, which pretty much means he's ready to toss him in the river." She looked back at Ethan's expedition he was making to the table – being sure to make it take as long as possible and to make as many disapproving facial expressions as possible. She rolled her eyes again and looked back at Kim. "You can see why …" she muttered and then turned back to her brother. "Hurry up," she demanded.

Ethan huffed as she did and finished closing the gap – flopping his arms on the high table so that they were near up to his chin – and staring at Kim. She gave him a slightly weirded-out smile.

"Hi Ethan …" she tried.

Ethan just kept staring at her. Erin gave him a little slap on the back of the head and he slowly turned to glare at her.

"Don't be rude," she put to him. "Or weird."

"I'm not weird," he said.

Erin gestured at Kim who still looked rather uncomfortable that her baby brother had just crashed their Saturday morning coffee date. That was OK. Erin was still slightly uncomfortable with their coffee dates in general. But she liked Kim and she got it. She didn't mind trying to keep her from fucking things up. Because CPD had a tendency to turn a blind-eye to guy fuck-ups but slap the women the moment they made the slightest mistake. Not even mistake – very human misjudgments. Though, Erin likely could've told her from the start that Adam was a misjudgment. But they weren't those kind of friends back then.

"You're weirding her out," Erin put to her brother.

Kim's mouth fell a bit open. "Oh, no …"

Erin shook her head to stop her argument as Ethan's eyes moved to inspect the other woman again. But Erin just lifted her ass off the stool and pulled some folded bills out of her pocket. Ethan's eyes shifted back to her with the scent of money in the air.

"Go get a tea or water and a fruit cup or something," she muttered at him, holding out five bucks. But he reached to snag it but also to pull the ten from between her fingers. "Ethan," she snapped and gripped at it tightly as he tugged to try to free it from her fingertips.

"It's gonna cost more than five," he snarked at her.

"So pick something that is less than five bucks," she put back. He shook his head and tugged at the cash again. "Ethan!" she barked that time.

He glared at her. "I don't want to sit here for your vagina talk," he mouthed.

She scrunched her face in disgust and pressed her fingers firmly into his collar bone until he flinched. "That's just rude," she said. "Don't talk to women like that. It makes you sound like a chauvinist pig."

She knew he likely didn't have a clue what that meant. But his face didn't flinch any sort of confusion even. Instead it remained patronizing while he spat out, "Graham Crackers is around the corner."

"You are NOT going to Graham Crackers," she pressed pulling the ten-dollar bill out of his grip and returning it to her ass pocket.

He gazed at the five bucks he still had in his hand but that she was quickly considering taking away too. He shrugged. "Fine. I'm going to Graham Crackers—"

"YOU ARE NOT going to Graham Crackers," she said more firmly.

"And I'll use this to get dollar comics," he provided, giving her a completely smart-ass look.

She reached and yanked the money away. "I'll buy you breakfast. I'm not paying for comic books," she muttered.

He crossed his arms and leaned against the tabletop again with a defiant shrug. "Fine," he muttered. "Then I'll just stay here while you talk about your vaginas."

"Ah … we aren't going to talk about our vaginas," Kim offered, casting Erin a look. She just rolled her eyes.

She shoved at Ethan's shoulder roughly, rocking him slightly, though he didn't straighten. She still pointed across the café. "There's a newspaper. Go look at the sports stats."

"Can't without food," Ethan said. "They'll think I'm loitering."

"Then maybe they'll kick your ass for me," Erin put to him flatly.

He glanced over at the skinny, pale college kids behind the counter and looked back to her with another shrug. He clearly wasn't threatened.

"Do you want five bucks to get a drink and some fruit?" she put back to him slowly – talking to him like he was a toddler, because that's about the way he was acting.

He shook his head. "NO," he provided firmly. "I want to get an omelet and home fries."

"Ethan—"

But he shrugged before she could even finish and settled his head on top of his folded hands. He was making it clear that it was his way or no way. Exactly like his father. But hard to swallow from a fucking twelve-year-old kid. Her younger brother. Problem was most of the time she just got treated like big sister – not an adult responsible for him. Not his fucking guardian. A sibling to bicker with.

And she was that close to ripping into him. Reminding him about where exactly he was in the hierarchy of the family. And where exactly she was. She wasn't just big sis. And she wasn't going to put up with tone and attitude – especially if lately had been an example of the pending tone and attitude that they could expect out of him for the next six or more years. Fuck that. She wasn't going to put up with it.

But she also wasn't going to put on more of a show for Burgess than she was already getting. So Erin shook her head annoyed and lifted her ass again to retrieve the ten – because five bucks wasn't going to cover that order at this place. She waved it at him and he gave her an obnoxious grin and grabbed it. She yanked it away before he could.

"You tell them not to put milk in your omelet and don't get mushrooms in it," she ordered.

"But I like mushrooms," he protested.

She pulled the bills further from him – holding it in the air. "They make you sick. And if you're puking this afternoon – that's all on you. I'm not going to be cleaning up after you."

He huffed at her. But that was enough of an acknowledgement that she'd been heard that she let him take the bills. He started to walk toward the counter but she called after him, "And go sit at another table when you get it." He grumbled something in reply but she couldn't make it out. She doubted that she wanted to.

She turned back to Kim and gave her head another little shake.

"Wow …" Burgess provided.

Erin made a noise. "Yeah … he's been a nightmare the past few weeks."

And that was the understatement of the year. She didn't know what exactly had happened to her cute, innocent, cuddly baby brother – but he'd clearly left the building. Ethan had been awful to be around. Surly, grouchy, moody, obnoxious. About any adjective to describe a teenager that you could come up with – he'd been working at adding it to his repertoire. He was definitely not fun to be around – let alone to try to help with homework or take to appointments. She usually ended up growling at him by the end of it or swatting him.

She hoped this was just a phase. That he was demonstrating he was all grown up just before he hit his thirteenth birthday. He was flexing his muscles a bit. Because if this was what her little brother was going to be like for the next several years – she wasn't sure she wanted anything to do with him. He could be all Hank's problem. Because she definitely hadn't signed up for this. Him and Camille decided they wanted a third kid – well, that was his problem. Let him deal with it.

Erin really hoped it was just the Robotics Team having not advanced to Nationals and the end of the season there and the loss of that little friend group and social life. Or maybe it was the end of the school year creeping up and Eth fretting about summer vacation. Maybe it was the stress of knowing Justin and Olive and Henry would be around more in a few months yet Justin's inability to provide anything resembling a firm answer about if any of them would be crashing Ethan's birthday party. Or maybe it was all that. The birthday party. The fact that Ethan was convinced that no one was going to come. That Hank was going to overburden him with new rules and regulations and chores because he was now officially a teenager.

Whatever it was – Erin was pretty sure it wasn't related to hormones. Because if puberty had finally started in the kid – beyond him being a walking attitude problem – he wasn't showing any physical signs of it. But that was likely part of the problem too. Ethan had been becoming increasingly anxious about all the kids talking about puberty or sprouting to be taller than him or taking girls to the school dances or bragging about kisses and dating and hooking up and more – most of which likely wasn't happening. But none of which Erin would completely put past middle schoolers anymore. Though she hoped the were all more talk than action – because she just didn't want her baby brother exposed to some of the crap she was exposed to at his age. He was still too little and too innocent no matter his posturing of the moment.

"No, the haircut, the glasses," Kim said and pulled Erin out of her frustrated thoughts, as she gestured after him. "He looks so different than the last time I saw him."

"Oh …" Erin said and gazed after him.

He was standing much more shyly in line than the attitude problem he'd been giving her moments before. Ethan didn't excel around people he didn't know. He was always so self-conscious that people were looking at him or judging him. Making assumptions about him based on his appearance.

Unfortunately that was likely true to a certain extent. People tended to form first impressions based on appearances – rightly or wrongly. And often times what people saw when they looked at Ethan was his scars and disfiguration on the side of his face. The ear that was so mangled it was near missing. And now the crutches. Though, he didn't have the crutches today. She'd been surprised he didn't bring them out with him because he seemed to like the speed that he'd learned to generate with them. And she generally preferred he have them to lean on and steady himself when he was fatigued. But since he'd started using the brace to deal with his foot droop a month ago, he'd seemed to be learning to just manage more and more with that. To her it made his stagger that much more obvious. His walk was stiff and slightly awkward. His gait swinging. But he didn't have the visible cue that the crutches provided of his potential disability and along with his growing attitude – that need to hide that seemed to be growing. Though, some days – days he was tired or hurting – the crutches still won out.

He really did look like a different boy lately. She sort of wished she could say it was puberty and him growing up. But it wasn't. Though, he was starting to look healthier. His complexion was better. He had some coloring in his cheeks again. He didn't look as pale and his eyes weren't as sunken and lined with dark circles. His schedule wasn't as overburdened to the point of permanent exhaustion, though, the fatigue the M.S. caused still seemed to haunt him. The afternoons seemed particularly heavy for him. He needed his rest and he still was going to bed without putting up a fight because he was tired enough that he didn't need to be told he needed to be sleeping. He knew. Even if he didn't like it – and the impact it had on his coolness factor. Though, that clearly frustrated him some nights and he fought against it – or against her or Hank.

His hair too. It hadn't really grown back since chemo. It had. But not the same. There were thinning areas on his head that just didn't seem to be filling back in. They weren't exactly bald spots but it was just this splotchy mess. The texture of his locks was different too. It was finer now and so light that it was near white. This ducky down on his head. Or at least it was a duckling down right now. He'd tried to grow it back out but his previous beach-blond curls were now bedsprings. It was just a mess. So he now had the tight-cropped cut that he dad and brother wore. It was easier to manage. But it looked different on him. It was taking getting used to.

Erin had caught Hank staring at him too. She thought they were both having the realization of that piece of Camille having been taken from them now all these years later. It was – would be – harder for Hank. He'd always commented on how Eth had his mom's hair and eyes. She'd seen how Hank had looked at both over the years. Saw how he still let his hand land on his son's head and weave his fingers through the boy's locks in his intermittent doting affections. Sometimes she knew it was painful for him to look at – to see. But she thought it was likely more painful for it to be gone now.

The doctors had said that it had to do with stem cells and how chemo affected the hair floccules. That the coloring and the springiness of the curls should likely resolve themselves in a year or two. But that for a lot of people the thinned out hair didn't resolve – and that hair loss and thinning was a symptom of M.S. anyway. That might just be a fact of life for Ethan. Premature balding. Because that's something that any insecure teenaged boy really needed added to their plate.

And now the glasses too. Picking them had been quite the ordeal. Hank had pretty much vetoed every frame Ethan had picked – over price or style. Eth had bemoaned to Erin, "He's trying to make me look like Harry Potter but an even bigger loser than Harry Potter."

"Isn't Harry Potter cool anymore?" she asked. She thought kids Ethan's age loved the wizard. Apparently not Ethan. He'd given her a death glare and pointed to his missing ear and his still slightly sickly complexion.

"I'm Voldemort," he'd declared firmly.

She'd rolled her eyes at him. She hadn't read the books but she was in-tune with pop culture enough to know who the fuck Voldemort was and that you shouldn't want to be Voldemort.

"You are not Voldemort," she'd told him.

"I am," he said. "Dad basically looks like him too. With a nose."

"That's a really fucking mean thing to say, Ethan," she'd chastised.

But he'd just shrugged. "I'd rather be Voldemort than Harry Potter and Dad only likes Harry Potter glasses. DO I LOOK LIKE A GRYFFINDOR TO YOU?"

"No, you're definitely a Hufflepuff," she'd deadpanned. Apparently she knew more about Harry Potter than she wanted to admit.

And it'd gotten a rise out of him. "I AM NOT A HUFFLEPUFF!"

The ultimate outcome was that she'd accompanied Hank and Ethan on the glasses selection outing. Hank suitably unimpressed he was having to make a second outing. But she was pretty happy she'd been allowed to go and manage this. Because 1) Hank had a point. Blue and green frames when Eth spent the majority of his life in a maroon school uniform weren't exactly designed to go together and look good on anyone. And 2) Hank had awful taste in glasses. Ethan was right. Hank was picking things that looked like they were from the turn of the century with the wired frames and lens that were way too big on Ethan's little face.

It'd taken some coaxing but she'd eventually gotten Ethan comfortable with some typical small rectangular-framed plastic framed hipster glasses. Hank had rolled his eyes. He thought Ethan would manage to break them in two seconds flat and that he looked like he was some 60s nerd in Coke bottle lens. Or more accurately, "He looks like fucking Buddy Holly." But she'd prevailed in getting him to pay for the damn things and Ethan seemed happy with them – even though he had to wear a band around his head to keep them from sloping lopsided on his face. And Hank had slightly calmed the fuck down about the breakage thing when he realized he could buy Ethan what amounted to fucking goggles to play baseball in. But he actually looked pretty cute in those too and they seemed to be helping with the whole him not catching a ball with his face thing – which had pretty much been the demise of baseball the past summer.

"Yeah. They're cute on him, right? But don't let looks deceive you." Erin shook her head a bit. "They actually make him look more like his dad and you can't let looks deceive you there either …" she muttered.

"What?" Kim said surprised and Erin's eyes rotated from watching Ethan in line back to her. "Voight doesn't wear glasses …?"

"Oh …," Erin hesitated at her slip into the personal in front of someone who really didn't get to see the personal side of her or her family that much. But she was already seeing it. It was standing there at the counter trying to explain his dietary restrictions to a disbelieving looking server who clearly wanted to hand his order off to someone else less he end up accidentally killing her brother. So she tucked some hair behind her ear and shrugged. Sometimes there was no hiding the personal and sometimes the division of the personal and professional was hard to keep behind curtains at all time. Besides, this wasn't professional. It was Saturday. They were both off-shift. It was a coffee shop. They were trying to be friends – and that was Erin's own doing. She'd opened the door. She reached out. She couldn't exactly be shutting down all the time and sending walls back up. That would just send mixed messages and poor Kim had dealt with enough of those at the 21st.

"Not at work," Erin allowed of the glasses slip. "It's bad for his image."

"His image? Don't you mean his vision?"

Erin allowed a little smile. "I think he looks a little too much like a grandpa when he has them on. They're just for reading."

"Right …," Kim nodded. "So I'm sure he never needs to do that at work."

Erin grinned a bit. She wouldn't dispute that Hank's aversion to putting his glasses on at work was a little silly. But Hank had his own way of doing things and his own thoughts on just about everything. And apparently glasses didn't fit with his tough guy image.

"Isn't he a grandpa now?" Kim inquired cautiously.

Erin shrugged. "Not only is he a grandpa. I think we've all concluded he likes his grandson more than any of us. But apparently being a grandpa and looking like one are two different things."

Kim smiled at that and looked back at Ethan. Erin's eyes followed. It looked like he'd managed to awkwardly explain to the cook what he could have and now nearly had his nose pressed against the glass of filling options, pressing his index finger at various spots on the display.

"Ethan," she called out and he glanced at her. "No ham," she pressed firmly. He squinted at her. "Remember what happened last time you ended up eating curing brine," she put flatly. She could see his nostrils flare but he just turned back around without comment. He was getting better at managing his own dietary limitations – and remembering what he could and couldn't have, making connections about what made him feel like crap. But he was still just a kid and his memory was only so good even on his best days.

She shook her head and turned back to Kim who was still watching him.

"When did he get the glasses?" she muttered.

Erin took a sip of the coffee that Kim had got for her. She still hadn't bothered to learn what she got in it and still dragged everything over to the table. It was a little odd. It wasn't like her coffee was that sophisticated. It was basically black – with enough sugar until it tasted more like sugar than coffee. Because coffee tasted pretty gross. But it was a necessary evil.

"Hank or Ethan?"

Kim's eyes moved back to her at that. Her face clearly said she'd meant Ethan but now she was curious about Hank.

Erin smiled and shrugged. "Hank's had them for a while. Years. Eth … maybe … three weeks? After the chemo and his last -"

"Wait," Kim shook her head. "Chemo?"

"Yeah," Erin nodded and took another sip of her coffee. "And then he ended up with this other flare after the viral meningitis wave back just after Easter. So they did another round of the steroids with him but it seemed to really stabilize his optic neurosis. Finally. So we were able to really get his vision checked out. Got him glasses. And I can't even tell you how much easier it's made … everything. But homework …" she shook her head. Some of Ethan's difficulties had very clearly been rooted in his vision loss – not his brain injuries. Three weeks into having glasses and they were already making leaps and bounds ahead of where they'd spent much of the year. She gave Kim a small smile at the thought of it but Kim was gaping at her.

"Erin …" she said. "Chemo?"

"Oh …" Erin paused and shook her head again, looking down at her coffee. "You didn't know?"

Kim just raised her eyebrows and shook her head. "Is he alright?"

Erin shook her head reassuringly at that misstep. "Oh, yeah, yeah. It's chemo but it's not cancer. He doesn't have cancer," she corrected quickly. "It's this medical trial. It's a cancer drug. A chemotherapy. But they're using it on M.S. patients in a medical trial and I guess some like … other auto-immune, auto-inflammatory diseases. Lupus?"

Kim just gaped at her explanation and then shook her head. "I don't know how you do it," she muttered.

Erin squinted at her. "Do what?"

Kim gestured awkwardly. "You and Voight. Keep all so private. At District. Usually everyone knows everything there."

Erin shrugged and cupped at her mug. "Hank's been around long enough he knows how to keep his personal life out of the office limelight."

And when it came to his kids – he worked especially hard to keep it outside the bullpen doors. He didn't want people knowing or asking too much. Because it made him vulnerable. But more so that it made them vulnerable. And their family had already more than paid the ultimate price for that vulnerability. He went to great lengths to keep his private life, private. To protect Ethan.

Ethan had been coming into District less and less since Beckett had made a pass at the family. Meanwhile the amount of unsupervised time Ethan got had decreased too. And since Yates had come at her – had ended up in her condo – Hank had been on virtual lockdown on where Ethan was at all times and who was allowed to know he even existed. Since Yates, Erin could likely count on one hand the number of times Ethan had been in at District and every time had been for a good reason. It hadn't just been Ethan stopping by and he'd never been allowed to hang around long. And if he had to be around long it was never in a place where he was visible in the bullpen. He'd be down with Platt or in the basement in the backroom with Mouse. Not places perps or lawyers or suspects or riffraff were likely to see him or connect him directly – immediately – to her or Hank.

Erin understood where Hank was coming from. She really did. But she also thought it was a little futile. Anyone who wanted to know the make-up of Hank's family – would know. And they'd know he still had a kid at home. And no one really had to look too much further than a bit of Googling or a search through the Sun Times to piece together any of that information.

And it wasn't like people at District didn't know about what was going on in Hank's life and his family life. Because Kim was right – everyone does know everything there. And they all flapped their lips like old ladies at fences. Even though they housed the fucking Intelligence Unit and you'd think they'd all knew better. But cops had a tendency to talk and vent and share stories. It's what made the job almost manageable. So people knew. They knew that Camille was gone. They knew what had gone down with Justin. That Hank was a grandfather now. That she'd grown up as his ward and now he was her boss. That Ethan was home and he was sick. Everyone knew. They just knew better than to say anything to Hank about it or flap their lips about it in an environment where it might get back to him. Because then hell might rain down.

Hank's business was his business and you better not go poking your nose into it.

"It's not just you and Voight," Kim said with some frustration and gestured at her hand. "It's …"

Erin glanced at where her hand was clasped around the coffee cup and realized that Kim was staring at her engagement ring. She didn't usually wear it to work. She wasn't sure if Kim had ever seen it before. Maybe. They'd been out for drinks at Molly's in the evening and Erin made a habit of pulling it back on her finger as she left District each day. But she didn't flaunt it and Kim had never said anything about it before. But it was on the list of things that Erin didn't really talk about at work – in an effort to keep it professional.

She suddenly felt self-conscious about it, though, and pulled her hands away from the mug, settling them in her lap while she fiddled with the ring – its heaviness – there.

"Sorry …" she muttered.

"You don't wear it at work," Kim said quietly and looked away awkwardly.

Erin just shrugged. She felt a little awkward too. She pretty much had since her and Jay had been engaged – and it happening on the heels of Kim and Adam and then when the wedding competition was already on between them and Plouch. It'd only gotten more awkward since Kim had broken up with Adam and figured out how to navigate that at District and with her career. And now the whole love triangle horror movie the woman had going on? It was kind of a mess.

Erin felt for her. But most of the time she really didn't know what to say. And even when she had an opinion about it – she mostly just wanted to stay out of it. And, she definitely didn't want to be flaunting her and Jay's relationship and engagement in the midst of it. That just seemed like it would be rubbing salt in the wounds. She'd hate that if someone was doing it to her.

"Yeah … well … liability and vulnerability," she provided of one of Hank's favorite mantras. But she allowed her hands to come back on the table. Her fingers still twisting at the ring because even now she found herself amazed it was there and often had to touch it and feel it to remind her. But there was a happiness and a comfort – a stability – to it being there too. She liked when she had it on. She didn't like feeling like she had to hide it. "And, we aren't really supposed to be flaunting it," she admitted and gave Kim a sympathetic smile. "Hank's doing us a bit of a solid with turning a blind eye right now. But …"

"But?" Kim enquired, sitting forward a bit.

Erin shrugged. "Well, you know how he feels about relationships in his unit …"

"Yeah," Kim sighed.

"Dating is one thing but engaged? He can only really pretend like he's not seeing it happen right under his nose for so long. It's kind of why we haven't set a date yet."

Kim shook her head. "What? Why?"

Erin shrugged. "Because one of us will have to go."

"Really?" Kim seemed shocked.

"Hank can't really have a married couple in his unit. And that's not exactly something he can bury. Easily," Erin admitted.

"So he's making one of you leave?"

"Well … it's not so much that he's making us leave. It's just … the way it is," Erin said.

"Wait," Kim shook her head even more shocked. "So which one of you is leaving?"

Erin sighed and shook her own head, looking down at her coffee again. "We haven't really decided yet. Hence, the buying time with not setting a date …"

"Wow …" Kim gaped at her. "So much for special treatment."

Erin allowed a quiet noise at that and gave her a thin smile. "Well, he has given us the benefit of the doubt for about sixth months now. But I think he's losing patience. He'd told us upfront he wouldn't turn a blind-eye for more than a year." She gave a little shrug again. "So we'll likely have to give him an answer soon so we can start working at … getting transferred out."

"Wow …" Kim shook her head again.

"You know this is like … girl talk," Erin put to her awkwardly.

"Oh, oh, yeah," Kim said shaking her head and nodding at the same time. Erin was pretty sure she wanted to cross her heart and hope to die and lock her lips and throw away the key too. But somehow managed to restrain herself. But she could tell Burgess was just bursting that this confidence had been shared with her. Not that it was exactly a state secret. It was just another thing they didn't really talk about at work. And it wasn't really conversation for at Molly's either. That'd be too many alcohol-induced opinions coming their way if it ever got mentioned.

Ethan reappeared, clattering his plate onto the table and pulling them away from their talk. Erin glanced at his food. It looked good and he'd gotten a fruit salad – not hashbrowns.

"Good choice," she told him.

He shrugged at her but then batted at her hand as she stole a grape off his plate. "It looked good," he muttered, followed by a firm order of, "Don't!"

But his eyes set weirdly on Kim again, who gave him her own awkward smile.

"Want some?" he offered to her and nudged the plate.

"She gets some but my hand gets slapped?" Erin teased, pushing at his shoulder.

He shot her a dirty look and then shifted his eyes back to Kim. "Oh, I'm good," she said, holding up a hand. "But thanks."

"Eth, go look at the paper," Erin said, nudging him again. "Eat your breakfast."

He squinted at her. "Why can't I eat here?"

"Because we're talking and you don't want to hear us talking," she put flatly.

"Because it's vagina talk," Ethan said – the obnoxiousness return. He gazed at Burgess' muffin and nodded. "That will give you a yeast infection. You should eat yogurt."

Kim gaped at him. "Umm … OK …," she said, casting Erin a clear WTF look.

Erin just rolled her eyes and nudged his shoulder again. "You're disgusting. Go," she ordered.

He grinned at her like he'd just won some sort of prize for being a prick. But he retrieved his plate and staggered over to one of the tables by the window that had a discarded newspaper.

Kim gave Erin another WTF look, shaking her head. Erin just shrugged.

"He's trying to impress you," she said. "He's got a small crush on you."

"What?" Kim said.

Erin just smiled. "He pretends like he doesn't care enough to learn your name but when he asks about you he calls you, 'the pretty cop'. He calls Adam 'Ugly Wolverine'."

That earned a small laugh out of Kim who nodded some agreement and looked down into her own coffee.

"His birthday is next weekend," Erin said. "You should come."

Kim's eyes came up with some interest but she stumbled. "Oh, I don't know if Sergeant Voight would really—"

Erin shook her head. "I think he's pretty much invited everyone in the unit at this point. He was asking if he should get Kevin to bring his little sister the other day." She sighed. "Ethan doesn't really have friends. Right now it's going to be more adults than kids. Hank's basically just doing a barbecue for the squad and calling it Eth's birthday."

"Oh, but, maybe it should be him or … Ethan … that invites me," Kim stuttered.

Erin shrugged and looked over to the window. "Eth," she called out and he glanced at her from shoving his eggs in his mouth while staring at the paper. "It OK if Kim comes to your party?"

"Whatever," Ethan mumbled with his mouth full.

Erin looked back to the other woman. "Come," she offered. "It will be fun." She thought about that for a moment. "Maybe," she allowed. Because fun might be being really generous.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: The chapter before this — Graveside — got posted last night. Please make sure you didn't miss it. Reviews and feedback are always appreciated.**


	89. Mean Girl

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 88 - Vagina Talk.**

Ethan gave Erin a glance as they exited the front door of the house. He looked a little annoyed.

"You don't need to come," he put to her flatly.

She shrugged and settled herself onto the top step in front of the house. He still gave her a glare. "Your dad doesn't want you going inside and I don't her mom giving you a hard time," she put flatly.

That annoyed look intensified. "I can walk next door and knock on a door myself," he muttered.

She gestured absently down the steps. "So walk next door and knock on the door yourself."

He huffed at her but continued down the steps and over to the next porch. He glanced back at her and flicked his wrist several times in a way that clearly indicated she was sitting in a way that made her visible and she was to make herself less visible – RIGHT NOW.

Erin just rolled her eyes but did sit up a bit straighter and backed her ass up a touch to try to get out of any line of sight. Not that she exactly foresaw Holly bursting out the door when/if she answered it at all. But it was best not to agitate Eth about this. He was already agitated enough.

The poor kid – or maybe it was poor Hank – had gotten a grand total of one RSVPs to his birthday party. It was annoying the fuck out of Hank who was a planner and organizer. He wasn't thrilled about the concept of dropping money on food when he didn't know how many people were coming. Erin had attempted to explain to him repeatedly that they knew exactly how many people were coming – Max. Weird, socially awkward, likely Aspergers – Max. Max who Eth didn't even particularly like because the kid was even a little weird and socially awkward by Ethan's standards. And that said a hell of a lot. But the kid was like a lost puppy and seemed to have latched onto Eth. Following him around. And, little Magoo had too big of a heart to go breaking another kid's heart by telling him to back the fuck off. Even if every kid he'd invited to his party was breaking his.

Again, Erin thought it was more Hank's heart they were breaking. Ethan seemed pretty resolved to the fact that kids just didn't want to hang out with him. It wasn't like he liked it. It wasn't like he was a completely introverted kid who thrived on having a ton of alone time. He wasn't overly shy even if he was kind of withdrawn. But that was taught behavior from his experiences and insecurities – it wasn't his natural disposition.

And even though Hank was a bright guy. He knew all the reasons why Eth didn't fit in that well. Why he didn't have a friend group. Or even really a "best friend". It still bothered him. It still worried him. He still very clearly wanted for his son to have some "buddies". To have people to talk to and lean on other than them. People his own age. Some sort of support network. A social network.

He mentioned it regularly – and Hank didn't mention a whole lot about his worries or anxieties about Ethan or parenting. But that one came up. Over and over. His frustration and anger and sadness about the situation showed too. Because it was his kid. And it was Camille's little boy. And because Eth had already been through so much. He shouldn't have to navigate life alone because of the things he already had been through – because of how they showed up in him physical or in his little quirks of personality and emotion.

It all made Erin wonder how much he'd stressed about any of this with her and Justin. Their friends – the ones he liked, the ones he didn't like. When they went out too much. When they didn't go out enough. What they were doing. When and where and with who.

But he would've talked about all of that with Camille. He must've. Camille wasn't there to calm him on Ethan, though. So it was her. Not that he listened to any of her perspective or advice on it.

And her perspective and advice had been to stop pushing this birthday barbecue thing. That Ethan just wanted a barbecue – at home, in the yard, with his family. He didn't want to invite anyone over. But Hank had been convinced that with Robotics and his middle schooler class and the Youth Boxing League and kids from RIC and the new Cubs team – that there must be some potential buddies somewhere in the mix that could be lured into establishing a friendship with E if presented with sausages and at a city park's baseball field.

Sometimes Hank could be pretty blind to reality. Especially if he thought he could fix something just be continuing to charge forward. Sometimes it took longer than it should for him to realize he couldn't fix everything for his kids. That some things about them – and their childhoods – were just broken and that's just how it was going to be.

So they'd done this his way. Sort of. The invitations had been sent out as evites and literal text messages – which annoyed Hank to no end because he didn't understand how it worked. But it was a compromise over E's proposed method of "I'll just ask people", which Hank – 1) didn't believe he would; and 2) wouldn't get his verified attendance he wanted.

Now with the big (non-)event less than a week away, Hank seemed to have settled into acceptance that no one was coming. At least on the kid front. He'd begrudgingly shifted his attention to inviting people from work, despite his assertion that he didn't want to fraternize with his underlyings. As far as Erin was concerned that ship had long ago sailed – seeing as she was his ward and her boss. Not to mention Jay in the picture and him and Al having known each other for more than twenty years and having more than fraternized in that time period. She didn't think the big tough guy boss man hosting a barbecue ONCE in the three years they'd been a unit was exactly going to be deemed grossly inappropriate – out of all the things Hank had done so far that had pissed off the Ivory Tower. And who the hell was going to tattle on him for feeding them a hot dog?

But the reality was that the majority of the kids who were going to be at this thing were ones who'd be pushed into it by mandatory attendance and they weren't going to be much more than passing acquaintances to Eth. Erin wasn't sure he really cared. If they got out on the ball field and played with him, he likely really didn't give a shit. Hank, though, had again decided he cared. So they were into the next phase of the invitation issues. Or maybe it was more like they were onto Plan C or D of attempting to salvage this shindig.

Al had come up to her and asked if he should be having Michelle threaten kids at boxing into attending. You knew that things were going to the wayside if even Alvin was trying to quietly intervene and right the ship. Especially if it included granting one of his daughters permission to inflict bodily harm on other kids. Michelle likely would've been good at putting the fear of the Lord into some of the little jackasses at boxing. But the reality was most of those kids were rifraf that E didn't have a lot to do with beyond sparring and that Hank would likely be indifferent to if they showed up or not. So she'd declined that offer. Michelle showing up and being friendly with Ethan would be enough. And, she was usually pretty decent about that. Though, sometimes you could tell Eth was annoying the shit out of her. But he was like that with most people.

Instead Erin had reverted to the previously deflected method of inviting people to this fucking thing. The walk-up and ask them method. The old school method (minus the tacky card) that Hank had favored but Erin had argued against. Because she didn't think E needed that exercise when she suspected what it was going to end up as was the kids saying no, ignoring him, or outright laughing at him. They didn't need more heartbreak and hurt feelings in all of this than there already likely were. Though, Ethan was doing a good job at sort of hiding it and rolling with it. But that was Eth. He was a pretty chin-up kind of kid.

She watched him as he shifted his weight nervously from foot-to-foot as he waited for someone to answer the door at Holly's house. She didn't blame him. She felt a little anxious about it as well.

"Hi," she finally heard him say, though she couldn't see anyone. Whoever had answered must've only pulled open the door and not bothered to open the screen to have a real conversation with him.

"Hi," she heard Holly say back, though, and she breathed a little sigh of relief. She'd hoped they'd timed it so her mom wasn't home yet because Eth's last encounter with her hadn't gone well and she didn't think he was ready to have a face-to-face with her again yet.

Between the posts on the little porch, she could see Eth twisting at his fingers. "Umm …," he sputtered, "I just wanted to see if you got the evite to my birthday party."

There was a silence and then an annoyed, "You haven't talked to me like all winter, Ethan."

Erin could see his face already starting to fall. "Ah … well … I thought you were kinda mad at me."

"I am," Holly spat out.

Ethan just stood there. "Umm … yeah … so my dad said I'm not allowed to come over unless you invited me and stuff. And you haven't invited me."

"You're here now," the girl snarked at him and Erin was starting to have to restrain herself from getting up and telling her that it was her who had the problem, not her brother.

"Umm … yeah … because I wanted to check if you got the invitation and if you were coming or not," he stuttered.

"Ethan," she droned out like he was a fucking retard, which made Erin want to storm over there and smack her, "we aren't friends."

"But … like … we're neighbors," he tried and then got quieter. "And I don't really have too many people to invite."

"Oh, that really makes me want to come," Holly said in a way that left Erin feeling her eyes roll, which made her grit her own teeth.

"Well … it might be kinda fun," Ethan tried to sound hopeful. "Because are you playing ball this year?"

"Yeah …" Holly said dismissively.

Erin could feel Eth perk up at that. "Well … my dad like booked us one of the fields at the park. So like no one else can use it. So we can play like all afternoon."

"Since when can you play baseball?" Holly said with such a cruel edge that Erin almost went into full mama bear mode. Because no one got to talk to him like that. No one got to mock his disability. To make him feel more hurt and frustrated and self-conscious of it when he already did. To make him feel disabled – when he wasn't. He was just as capable as anyone else – maybe more. He just had the strength to deal with challenges that so many fucking people didn't. And that was commendable. Not something to be mocked.

"Umm …," Ethan stumbled with embarrassment. "Well … like … I'm playing with a team at the Rehab Institute. We're the Cubs. Like we're sponsored by the real Cubs."

"They sponsor charities," Holly said drily. "Like wheelchair and retard teams. It's not baseball."

Ethan's shoulders slumped. "Well … my dad booked one of the picnic shelters too," he changed the topic. Because the last thing he wanted to hear was that he wasn't really playing baseball. That he was going to have people rip that way from him again and again – when it'd already hurt him so much when he thought he wouldn't get to play at all. Not when they'd fought so hard to find a way for him to play. Not when Erin fucking saw the happiness in his face when he was out there practicing with the other kids – even if the rules were a little different. Even if not everyone was able bodied. And the calm she saw on Hank's face when he was watching his son too. The quiet joy he was getting in being able to – being asked to – throw the ball around with Eth again. That they'd spent a year fighting this disease to get him to the point that he could take back some of the things he loved. That they'd all made sacrifices to get him to that point. And that counted. It counted for something. And it wasn't to be mocked or teased or degraded.

"Ethan," Holly said again in this complete talk-down voice, "that's why no one is coming. It's super lame."

Erin watched as Eth stood there trying to find something to say. But what was he supposed to say to that? She wanted to get up and tell him to come back home. To end the conversation.

"Have you ever actually been to a party?" Holly pressed at him like she was oh so fucking sophisticated. "I mean, besides the other super lame ones your parents have thrown for you."

Erin saw Ethan blink. "This is my first party," he said quietly.

"No it's not," Holly spat back at him. "Your parents always had those stupid ones in your yard. In the sandbox."

Ethan just stood there but Erin's heart wrenched. She knew that Ethan likely didn't remember any of the parties Hank and Camille had had for him when he was little. It was before. Before the collision. Before he'd lost his mom. Before his brain had been damaged. He was a pre-schooler. A little boy. He couldn't remember that.

He couldn't remember the first birthday when all grandparents had been over for cake and presents. He wouldn't remember ahead of his second birthday his dad building him that sandbox that was still in the backyard now – though until a month ago serving as Hank's tomato, lettuce, spinach, rhubarb and cucumber patch, when he'd set to work ripping up the roots and moving the top soil to the opposite side of the yard so he could fill the little wooden box with sand again, this time for Henry.

Eth likely didn't remember that near every May – definitely by the Memorial Day weekend – Hank would have that little box topped back up with sand as an early birthday present. That invariably he'd end of with a Tonka truck or evacuator for the thing. Or a giant plastic dinosaur to stomp around in the sand. One year Camille had even spotted molds that looked like dinosaur bones so he could pack down and dig up his own dinosaur fossils. They'd all spent hours with buckets and pails and shovels and the garden hose with Ethan in that sandbox. And he'd spent hours more crawling around in the dirt and muck. That in the summer, Camille would literally spray him off with the hose or have him run back-and-forth through the sprinkle – stripping him down in the little sun-porch breezeway before letting him in the house. Immediately taking the clothes back out on the deck to shake out and then tossing them to the bottom of the basement stairs to be washed with that night's load of laundry. In the spring and fall – when it wasn't warm enough to hose him down – she'd brush and brush and brush him off trying to get sand out of all his clothes, hair and crevices before he tracked it through her tidy home.

Eth loved that sandbox. Eth loved his backyard. And so did Hank and Camille. They loved their deck and their porch swing and grilling their meals and sitting out there in the breeze and watching their youngest play. So the handful of times where they did have an actual party for Ethan – yes, they had just had it in their backyard. Because it was June. Because they weren't fancy people. Because they – and Ethan – were perfectly happy just having a few of the neighborhood families and kids over for a barbecue and to let them dig around in the backyard.

But Erin knew exactly which party Holly was referring when that had dripped from her mouth. It was Ethan's seventh. The last one Camille had been there for. The one just weeks before she was gone. And the one smack in that period that Ethan could remember nothing from. Nothing. It was gone and it was never coming back.

He wouldn't remember that Holly and her parents had been there. He wouldn't remember that it'd been dinosaur themed. That Camille had spotted plastic paleontologist hats and bought them for all the kids. An extravagant expense in that family.

He wouldn't know that Erin had come over one night after shift and helped her figure out how to make all these little baking soda eggs that they'd put plastic dinosaurs into. That they'd laughed and made a ridiculous mess in the kitchen while they did a paper mache project like they were in grade school to make a piñata for Ethan and to put all those eggs into. That Erin hadn't seen it again until the party when Justin had helped Ethan paint it to it looked like a dinosaur egg – "a real one, not a fake one" with lots of green and black and brown. That Justin had overseen the kids beating at that piñata and when they hadn't been able to get it to break, he'd gleefully taken some extra hard swings at it "just to get things started".

He didn't remember that when the crafted eggs – rather than candy – had tumbled out, that Camille had brought them watercolor brushes from the craft drawer and eyedroppers from work and given the kids bowls of vinegar to set about a bubbly science experiment that hatched their eggs and gave them their little ten cent toys to take home.

He didn't know that his dad had had the brainwave to used his dinosaur bone sand box molds to make plaster of paris bones that they buried back in the sandbox for the kids to do a their very own dinosaur dig. Or that Hank had splurged and bought multiple slabs of ribs to smoke for that party because up until that point in his life, Eth had just called them "bones" and Camille thought that was cute for a dinosaur party.

He didn't know that the cake had been a fluorescent green disaster that really didn't look anything like a dinosaur – though Camille had sure tried hard. And it hadn't mattered because Eth still knew that it was a brontosaurus "even though they aren't really real" and had just glowed about it. That he'd glowed even more when he got his green chocolate mint ice cream to go with his slab of cake. And he'd asked for seconds and thirds of the ice cream – just like he always did when it was in the house, which was one of the reasons it was almost never in the house.

He didn't know his mother had ignored Hank's decry about party favors being a fucking waste of money when she'd found these little wooden punch out models. And that Eth had been more excited about that than any of his birthday presents that year. That the wooden parasaurolophus skeleton was still sitting up on his shelf with the rest of his ever-growing dinosaur collection.

He just wouldn't remember. But Erin did. And it stung on so many levels to hear some spoiled, snotty, angry little girl call it "stupid" or "lame". Because it hadn't been either. It'd been perfect for Eth. And perfect for the Voights and who they were and who their family was. And it'd been full of love and effort and thought and sacrifice to make it special for Eth and to share the day with some of the other families on the block.

And she knew as much as Hank's attempt to do something for Eth's thirteenth were somewhat misguided – it was still because he cared. That he – their family – they still weren't flashy people. That a birthday in the Voight house was cake and one of your favorite meals cooked by Dad and a present or two. It was about family and spending time together. Little things. But the important things. Just like any other holiday was.

He hadn't had a party – for any of them – since Camille was gone. Not for Justin's 18th or 21st. Not for her 25th. Not for his 50th. Not for Justin's graduation from high school. Not for his engagement or wedding or marriage or baby.

This was his first attempt to do anything. It might be his last. Erin didn't pretend to know what entirely was motivating him in it. How much of it was about Ethan. How much of it was about Camille. And how much of it was about Hank himself. Or what they'd all been through – what Ethan had been through – that year. Or maybe it was more like the past five or six years. And this was some sort of signal they were starting to move on. They were starting to be OK. Starting to live in their new normal more normally.

But he was doing what he knew. He was doing what he was comfortable with. What was normal and acceptable to him. What he thought his son would like. And he was trying like he always did. And this little girl was smacking not just Ethan – but Erin's whole family in the face.

"Umm …," Ethan stumbled – because he always did when he realized someone remembered something that he didn't. That he thought he should. "I mean … this is my first … party … this … year."

"Well, no one is going to come when it's that lame," Holly instructed. "You can't expect people to be paying to come when it's something like that."

"OH!" Eth corrected excitedly. "You don't have to pay! It's free! My dad knows someone so he didn't have to—"

"We have to bring you a present, Ethan," Holly hissed at him. "That's not free."

Erin saw Ethan blinking again. The confusion. Because he hadn't been to a party. And as much as he heard kids talk at school, it likely hadn't occurred to him that parties involved presents. The only birthday presents he had in his memory were ones from his immediate family – her, Hank and Justin.

"You don't have to give me a present …" he said. But Erin could hear him processing that.

"It's still super lame," Holly contended again. "Do you at least have good favors?"

"Favors?" Ethan stumbled.

"Gifts for us to make us want to come," Holly pressed.

"Umm …," Ethan stumbled. "Well … we're going to have brats and nachos. And these really good deli pickles!"

"You have to feed people at a party," Holly huffed. "That's not a favor."

"Umm …," Ethan thought about it again. "Well … it's supposed to be kinda hot so Erin said we might get some water balloons—"

"Not. A. Favor."

Erin was getting so close to snapping. But Ethan just looked at the girl like a deer in headlights. It was like he thought this was some kind of brain teaser and if he tried to make himself focus hard enough he'd be able to figure it out.

The thing was, though, that there didn't seem to be a whole lot of figuring out most teenagers. There was even less figuring out a teenaged girl. Especially a fucking Mean Girl. Which sort of broke Erin's heart a bit – because twelve months ago Holly wasn't a Mean Girl. She'd just been the little piggy-tailed neighbor girl. But things had changed. Puberty had hit. She was a teenager. She was off at one of the fancier all-girls private schools – and not on a bursary to be attending it. She had breasts enough and looks enough that the boys in the neighborhood were noticing her. Some of the wrong ones. She hadn't quite figured out the right versus wrong yet, though. So instead she was just trying to keep away the ones that she didn't think she had a crush on. The ones that weren't cute enough to pay attention to. The ones she thought she was too cool for or were too un-cool to be seen around her. And Ethan was on that list. And Erin didn't think he should be.

"Well …," Ethan seemed ready to try again. "My Dad thinks piñatas are a giant waste of money but I kind of want one."

"A piñata?" Holly groaned. "You're thirteen, Ethan."

"Yeah but I just think it will be kinda fun to like … beat the shit out of it. Right?" Erin saw him smile so big when he said it. The little-boy boy excitement at the notion. But Holly mustn't have smiled back because his face fell and he scuffed his foot. "Anyway … Erin said she'd help me make one instead. And if we make one, she said she'd figure out something to put in it. So maybe that's the favor?"

There was a long pause. Erin could tell they were staring at each other. Awkwardly.

"Do you at least have a theme?" Holly asked.

"A theme?" Eth put back to here with some confusion.

"You know … like … The Hunger Games … or … The '80s … or The Amazing Race scavenger hunt … or something," she said. "ANYTHING!"

"Umm …," Eth thought hard. "… baseball? Maybe. I guess."

"Because it's at a baseball field?" Holly mouthed.

"Yeah …"

"That's not a theme," she provided. "That's a location. Like a venue. And most people if they're going to do a venue party, it's like … bowling or the rink or a dance with a DJ or … like rock climbing or laser tag."

"OH!" Ethan interjected again. "We're likely going to bring my Nerf guns and water guns too. So we can have like a water war. It said that on the evite too. So if you wanted to bring your own – that'd be good."

"I'm not coming," Holly said flatly.

Ethan stood there for a long beat again – as Erin's heart broke even more for him. Even though she knew this was the likely outcome. But she hadn't expected it to be so harsh. She did know, though, that she wouldn't be pushing him to do this follow-up invite with anymore kids. She wasn't going to put him through that again and again. That would be on Hank. Maybe Michelle and Diego and Max and Atwater's sister and maybe Burgess' niece and whatever number of Herman kids showed up was just going to have to be enough. Maybe it was enough. For this. For now. Because it had to be – it was – better than this.

"Oh … OK …," Ethan stuttered.

"So, later," Holly said bluntly and she could already hear the inner door shutting.

"Yeah … bye," Ethan said quietly but Erin didn't think he got it out before the door shut in his face.

He stood there staring at it for what felt like a long time while Erin frowned at him. He finally looked over at her. The hurt in him was palpable. But he just gave her this little shrug.

"I don't think she's gonna come," he stated flatly and slowly turned and started down those steps and back to their house. Their safe place.

Erin gave him a weak smile as he got to the foot of their stairs. "That's OK," she told him. "We didn't really want her to come anyway …"

"Yeah … I guess …," Ethan muttered and slumped up the steps and in the door.

Erin gazed between the railings at Holly's family's stoop. Teen-aged girls should be such fucking bitches.


	90. Piñata

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 91 - Mean Girl.**

"I'm telling you, this is worth every cent," Jay insisted, wagging the bag of water balloons at her. Not just any water balloons – water balloons on little sticks with some sort of fancy nozzle and a claim that not only were they self-tying but that you could fill up a hundred of the things in sixty seconds.

Erin glanced at the product again and shoved it away. "I'm not paying fifteen dollars for water balloons."

"A hundred water balloons – in sixty seconds," he stressed at her like she couldn't read the fancy packaging herself.

"I can get a pack of two hundred at the dollar store," she muttered and kept walking down the aisle, gazing at the summery picnic and barbecue toys in the hopes of having some sort of cheapskate brainwave about what to put in Ethan's fucking piñata.

"Do the dollar store ones fill in sixty seconds and self-tie?" he stressed at her.

She cast him a look. "Do those ones?" she said. "Don't believe everything you read, Jay."

He cocked his eyebrow at her. "Do you know who's going to get stuck filling the two-hundred, dollar store, non-self-tying water balloons?"

"Mmm …," she considered it and cast him a look again. "Us?"

"Us," he agreed. "And that is going to be how we'll be spending a night this week. Wet—"

"I thought you liked when I got wet," she cocked her eyebrow at him.

He looked at her with that teen-aged boy gaze with that slightly disapproving man struggling underneath. "Don't tease me," he said, "or this shopping trip is done and we're heading back to the apartment—"

Erin shook her head. "I need to find something for his piñata," she mumbled and picked up a little pack of six water guns. Tacky but might fit the bill. Though, Eth was used to having super soakers – not this. But he'd be happy to super soak the kids that didn't bring their own water gun and got stuck with these things when they fell out of the piñata.

"Erin," Jay groaned at her – because he'd made more than clear that he didn't want to be participating in his shopping trip. That he wanted to be home – sitting on the coach or sitting at Molly's or in bed. But they were down to crunch time and if it didn't get done now, it wasn't going to get done. And, Eth's party was looking pretty pathetic as it was. The least she could do was honor her promise to put something in the fucking piñata that he wanted. "He doesn't care what's in it. He just wants to beat the thing with a bat."

She cast him a more annoyed look. He was starting to get on her nerves that night. He wasn't being that helpful. "I promised him I'd put something in it. I'm putting something in it," she said. What was the point of having a piñata if it was empty? Though, she wasn't sure she saw the point at all – beyond the slightly disturbing fact that Jay was right; Ethan did just seem to want it to beat the shit out of. Which likely was an interesting commentary on his level of pent up angry and aggression. But she was going to try to pass it off as a teenaged boy thing. They liked to break stuff. She'd not think about it was a Voight thing – which seemed to include the need to break faces. Regularly. Though, she might try to mention to Hank that maybe someone should gently broach that with him or alert his therapist to it.

Ethan wouldn't be the first man in the family to need some lessons in anger management. Not that Hank or Justin had ever participated in a session. But she suspected they might benefit from it. Not that she'd say that to either of their faces. They'd likely have a smart comeback anyways that would sting. So some topics were best not to be broached.

Jay smacked at jumbo pack of Double Bubble gum at her. "There," he said flatly.

She glared at him, shoving that bag at him even more harshly than she had the water balloons. "He can't eat this," she hissed.

"It's gum," Jay corrected. "It's not like he swallows it. Besides, it says it's vegan and gluten free."

She flipped it over and looked at the ingredients. "It's pure sugar," she groaned. "Every ingredient is just another way of saying sugar."

Jay gave his eyes a roll. "One piece isn't going to hurt him," he argued.

She glared at him harder. "It's four grams of sugar in one piece," she instructed. "You want to deal with him if he gets a flare-up?"

He looked at her more firmly at that – she'd clearly hit a nerve. "No," he said sternly. "You know I wouldn't do that to him."

And she saw the look in his eyes — the offence that she'd even suggest that he might do something to damage Ethan's delicate progress. Because she knew Jay wouldn't. That Jay had been doing it best to help as much as her and Voight would let him for nearly the entire year Eth had been home. But that since February — since he'd gone through the first round of the medical trial — that Jay had stepped up even more. That he'd ached that her little brother was on a drug that had been administered to his mother — and hadn't helped her. That he'd seen what that drug could do to someone — and what happened if it didn't help someone. And that he was watching a pre-teen kid go through it.

She thought Jay had been more hurt and devastated than Hank almost when Eth had had a flare in April not long after his round of chemo had wrapped. While his body was still so weak and struggling to recovery from the drugs. When he'd been exposed to the viral meningitis and his body just hadn't been able to cope with everything. So there had gone all the inflammation from his M.S. — hitting points they hadn't seen before with the level of his fevers and the extent of the optic neurosis. It'd been scary. And, Erin had seen how much it affected Jay. He'd been trying to hide it by being a rock — but she'd seen the fear — the same fear that she'd heard out of Hank. That the medical trial hadn't worked and they'd put him through all that for nothing.

But the doctors had got the flare under control. It'd taken more IVs and steroids. Lots of monitoring of his optical nerve. And repeated spinal taps. But Eth had slowly bounced back. And right now he seemed better than he had for the entire year he'd been home. So much seemed to be stabilizing. He still had bad days and would get fatigued in the afternoons. He needed his rest and his stamina wasn't the same as most kids his age — but he was doing so much better than that broken, angry and defiant little boy that had arrived home on that train a year ago. None of them wanted to lose that. They were all clinging on to it. Even Jay.

She held the bag back out at him. "Then stop handing me candy and help me actually come up with something to put in this stupid thing," she said.

He took the bag and looked at her. His eyes softening a bit, though she could still see his underlying annoyance at her comment. "You're getting way too stressed out about this non-party party," he put flatly, returning the bag to the shelf.

She just shook her head and kept going down the row. This would be so much easier if Ethan could eat any of this candy. Get some Big League Chew or some Baby Ruth mini-bars and be done with it. But the kid couldn't even eat fucking peanuts – not that she thought peanuts falling out of a piñata would be exciting for anyone either. Maybe sunflower seeds? Is that exciting? Ethan could eat pecans by the handful but also likely not something most kids would be thrilled to have falling out of a piñata.

"I think we might need to go to like Party City instead," she muttered. She could find something really tacky and completely age inappropriate there. Like baseball shaped rings or erasers or something. Actually, a baseball shaped stress ball might be best. Those had to exist, right?

"Or the dollar store and pick up a couple packs of his fucking plastic dinosaurs," Jay said somewhat sarcastically.

And Erin gave him another look. "They're thirteen. They don't want dollar store plastic dinosaurs."

And that was part of the problem with this whole thing. It'd been the problem for weeks now. Ethan was definitely settling into being a teenager. He was suddenly much more conscious about what was cool and what wasn't. He stressed about it. He talked about it. But as much as he wanted to be so grown up and so cool and fit in so much — he'd go from trying to be that big man, tough guy, teenager the one minute back to talking about dinosaurs and Star Wars Clone Wars and wanting to play Lego Harry Potter on the Xbox the next. Was he a teenager or was he just a boy? He was somewhere in the middle right now. A grey area. And depending on the day it could definitely be several different shades of grey.

So her little brother wanted wireless speakers and iTunes cards and a paintball set and Under Armor clothing and a gift card to American Eagle and Urban Outfitters and a Walking Dead graphic novel and money on a Starbucks card. But he also thought he'd like some lego and maybe the Star Wars movie and all he really wanted was to get to go camping with his dad and adding a velociraptor to his collection might be pretty cool — much cooler if it was "Blue — from Jurassic World but another blind bag would be OK too."

His ideas of conversation shifted from baseball to dinosaurs to robotics to Star Wars to coding and hacking to Hot Wheels to the Mazer Runner to Lego to circuitry to camping and fishing to bands she'd hardly heard of and shows she'd never seen. She didn't know how to keep up some days. And sometimes it was hard to know anymore what he needed from her on a particular day even. One second he was moody and grouchy and obnoxious and doing his best to push her away or outright tell her to leave him alone and that he wanted his space. Then the next he was the family's cuddle monster again — crawling next to her on the couch and looking for a hug and needing help with his injection and wanting her to do it because it hurt the least when it was her. He'd talk silly with her and watch her TV choice or listen to her music — or pick her brain about movies and TV and books and music and life in general — because suddenly she was cool again for that afternoon. But it could change on a dime.

Her baby brother was disappearing. Slowly but faster than she'd like. He wasn't such a baby anymore. Maybe more just … a younger brother. But what exactly did you do — what did you get — for a kid who wanted a piñata but only so he could beat it with a a bat?

"I'm pretty sure he's going to be the only thirteen year old there," Jay provided.

She shrugged. "Diego's twelve. Michelle's fifteen."

"And are any other kids coming to this thing?" Jay muttered. Because he knew the answer. He'd been getting the running commentary on these party prep for weeks from her too.

Erin let out a little sigh and looked over her shoulder at him, giving him a frown. "I think Atwater's likely going to show. There's free food. I've tried to really stress to him that if he's going to come he should bring his sister, but…"

"Yeah," Jay nodded.

Kevin was a good cop but he was definitely climbing the ladder. He didn't see Intelligence at the destination. It was just a rung in getting where he was going – which was up. And he was seeing the invitation to the barbecue as a sign that he was somehow getting in with Voight. Another networking opportunity. A sign he'd made it. Which it wasn't. It was just Hank was starting to pull out the stops in trying to get some kids at the thing.

"Kim's coming," Erin tried. "She's going to try to bring her niece."

Jay gave her a little frown. "Girls and younger …"

Erin sighed again and shrugged. "I know …," she said and gazed at the shelf again for a moment. "Let's just go over to the party supplies. Hank wanted me to get some paper plates."

Jay gave a little nod and followed after her. "You know, it's likely not going to be as bad as you think," he said. "Eth might not even notice."

She gave him a patronizing look. "He's thirteen. He's going to know no one showed up. He already knows no one is showing up."

And Ethan was trying to act like he didn't care. That all he wanted was a barbecue anyways. He would've been happy if it was just them. Which, she knew was likely true to a point. But he did care that he'd been forced to invite people and he was aware that of those people it didn't sound like much of anyone was going to show.

Jay frowned. "I can get Will to touch base with Alec. See if he wants to bring Liam and Emmy over for it."

She shrugged. "I guess. They're still a lot younger than Ethan."

The truth was, though, that she found it hard seeing Jules' kids. And Alec. And she wasn't sure she wanted them to come — if they did. Alec had been cautious about keeping in touch with anyone since Jules' death. She knew Antonio had reached out a lot in the first year but hadn't been warmly received. Hank had tried too and he still did talk to — see Alec — at the hospital … with Ethan when he was up in the pediatrics wing. But Alec wasn't looking for a shoulder from the CPD. In the times Erin had gone over — or seen him at the hospital too — he'd been so closed off. The message was clear — he wanted space. He wanted to move on. And to do that, he needed distance from the people Jules had known in CPD — especially people she'd only known a matter of months in Intelligence. Intelligence was the end of her career — her life — he was focusing on other people. Finding support elsewhere. And giving it to the real people who needed it — his patients and his kids.

"Yeah, but it'd be kids," he said. "What about Mouse? He could likely get Erica to nudge some of the kids from the Robotics team into coming."

Erin groaned. "Jay, it's already going to be weird enough that one of Ethan's teachers is going to be at this thing. It will be way worse if that teacher also forced kids from his team into coming."

Jay gazed at her. "He's never had Erica as a teacher."

She gave him a look. "She teaches at the school and she was on the Robotics coaching staff. You don't think that's enough fodder for these little fucking monsters if they get wind of her being at his party?"

"Fair enough," Jay nodded quickly. "OK. What about Mouch? Get Platt to tell him to invite Herrmann and his litter."

"You know how Hank is about Herrmann," Erin muttered and gestured at the plates. "Red, white or blue?"

Jay glanced at them. "We can likely get them for cheaper at the dollar store. Or Party City, if you really want to go over there." She just shrugged at him again. "Sounds like Will is coming. And depending on how him and Natalie are doing on that day of the week, she might decide to come too," he offered. "She'd bring Owen."

She looked away from her examination of the baseball themed plates. The ones that looked like balls and the ones that were decorated with the Cubs logo. They were a little pricey but she was trying to decide if it'd be worth it. Just get a pack for the kids. It wasn't like there were going to be many of them. But maybe that was also too tacky for a thirteen year old. Maybe not when he wanted a piñata to pulverize.

"Great," she put to him flatly. "Ethan's future brother-in-law's brother is coming to his party but his own brother isn't."

Jay gazed at her. "He's officially said he's not coming?"

"When does Justin officially say anything," she muttered and snatched up some of the plates and matching cups, tossing them into the basket.

"So he might still show?" Jay asked.

"Who fucking knows," Erin muttered. "He'll just make sure that either way he makes this as stressful and awkward as possible for everyone."

Jay leaned down and picked up the matching cake-sized plates and the Cubs napkins to add to the basket. "Does Eth even want him there?"

"He'd like his brother to acknowledge his existence in a way that isn't sending him some sort of extravagant present that him and Olive can't afford," Erin muttered. "But if he actually wants him there?" she shrugged.

She didn't think he did. But she also thought that Ethan would be hurt if Justin didn't show. It'd just confirm everything Eth felt about him and their relationship. Maybe Justin didn't really get how much damage he might actually cause if he just did the royal mind-fuck and didn't make an appearance. As if his and Ethan's relationship wasn't strained enough already. But to skip out on his birthday without offering up a good reason — not a fucking excuse after dangling the possibility for weeks?

"Wait …," Jay said, interrupting Erin's fuming — which maybe was a good thing, because she was just getting madder about it the closer to the weekend it got. "What sort of extravagant gift?"

She sighed and gave him a look. "From the last line of questioning I got, not going to be surprised if it's a PlayStation."

Jay squinted at her. "Those things are like four hundred dollars," he gaped.

She shrugged and shook her head. She knew that. She also knew that Hank wasn't keen on Ethan having one – or videogames, period. He was cautiously allowing the Xbox in the house. But it was heavily regulated and Eth hadn't been allowed to play any games with a rating greater than Teen yet and even those ones, Hank didn't like him playing any of the shooter games. He was strict about it. Just like he was with all his other media consumption.

"There's like no T-Rated games on the PS4," Jay said — clearly much more aware, or at least caring about, the rules than Justin.

"You think Justin cares?" she put to him. "That he's asked Hank's opinion? Or acknowledged any of the rules?"

"Ethan's been saving up for that thing himself for like a year," Jay sputtered with an edge of anger.

"Likely closer to two," she provided.

"Why would he take that away from him?" Jay demanded.

Erin shrugged and started to walk out of the party supply section to see if she could find where all the collector cards were in the department store. Maybe she'd be able to get some of them on the cheap to put in the piñata. Though, she doubted it. Baseball cards sure as hell weren't cheap when she saw Eth paying for them at the hobby shop. But there'd be some sort of discount here if she was buying a case. Not that she needed a case. She was really fucking wishing she'd never helped with this whole piñata thing. She should've mocked him about wanting one and put an end to it before it even started.

"Does Voight even spend that kind of money on birthdays?" Jay gaped after her and then shook his head. "Voight doesn't spend that kind of money on birthdays," he answered for himself.

Erin gave a little shrug. "I think he sees thirteen as a kind of big deal. As much as Hank sees anything as a big deal. So he'll likely spend a little more than he normally would."

Hank and Camille had splurged on that bike for Justin on his thirteenth. But Erin wasn't sure she saw Hank spending that kind of money on Ethan. Not this year. Especially not after some of the expenses with Robotics team over the winter and the equipment and supplies he needed to be able to fully participate in that. And now with baseball season? And summer camp? And Bear? And all that was on top of Eth's medical expenses — not all of which were covered. She could tell Hank was even more aware of his finances than he usually was — to the penny. Not that he'd let her help with anything. Though, it wasn't like she had a surplus of money either.

"So Justin is going to spend more on a gift than the kid's dad?" Jay shook his head. "What'd Voight get him?"

"I don't know. It's Hank. He doesn't publicize it or ask for ideas," she muttered.

"What'd you end up getting him?" Jay asked.

She shrugged again. "I haven't really got him anything yet," she admitted. "I mean, I picked him up those couple tshirts, which I guess I'll give him as a birthday present. But I was going to get something to go with them."

"His birthday is on Saturday," Jay provided flatly.

She gave him a dirty look. "I know," she said bluntly.

Because she did know. She was dreading it. Though, she almost thought Ethan might be dreading it more. But that was likely why she was dreading it so much. She just didn't want this to be a disaster. She wanted it to be an OK day for her brother. For him to just have some fun. To enjoy it as much as he could. She didn't want it to be awkward or lonely. Even if kids weren't at the barbecue, she still thought he had a lot to celebrate about that year. He'd achieved a lot. They were proud of him. She knew it was that pride that was partially driving Hank doing this in the first place. They were having a bit of a homecoming for Eth a year late. But he'd earned it.

"He keeps talking about some telescopic fishing rod," she said. "But I don't know why he thinks he needs that."

Jay shrugged at her. "To fish?" he suggested.

She rolled her eyes. He had fishing gear. She didn't know enough about fishing gear to understand why this rod would be any different or better than what they already had in the shed.

"I thought maybe I could pay for that coding camp but that would involve Hank swallowing his pride, which isn't going to happen."

"Mmm," Jay nodded. "So it's OK for Justin to spend four-hundred dollars on videogames but he won't let you spend like a buck-fifty on an educational summer camp?"

She shrugged. "Justin's not asking Hank's permission," she stressed again.

Jay shook his head. "That is going to be super awkward," he said.

And that was likely an understatement. Ethan had already expressed many times that Justin tried to buy his love and respect when he did something to screw things up. And it might've worked when Eth was little but he saw through it now. A fancy birthday present wasn't likely going to win Justin any points. Erin actually wasn't sure how Ethan would react — if he'd even accept it. Or if Hank would let him accept it. She could already imagine Hank's face when the thing got openedd — if that's what it ended up being — and it wasn't going to be happy.

"Has he mailed it?" Jay asked.

"Not as far as I know, because he's still playing the will I, won't I game," Erin said. "Hasn't firmed up on if he's coming or if Olive and Henry are coming. Or what the hell any of them are doing."

"He's not coming," Jay put flatly.

"Maybe he is," Erin muttered. There were baseball stickers. But that was way too juvenile.

"No," Jay put bluntly. "He's being a fucking asshole. I'll call the fucking guy. Tell him not to come. He's stressing you out. E's been a fucking basket case about all this shit for weeks. And this shit clearly gets to your dad too."

She cast him a look. Mostly because he called Hank her dad and there was always something so weird about him phrasing it that way — especially since before he used to do it with such disdain. "Keep out of it," she provided, though.

"He's such a fucking tool," Jay mumbled.

She just sighed. She wasn't going to argue. But she didn't know what to say. It was all getting a little old. She was hoping that Justin would've fixed this by now. Not even with her. With Ethan. And with Hank. He owed his dad that much.

"So why's the thirteenth a big thing with Voight?" Jay muttered at her, clearly trying to shift topics. Because if he didn't, he'd likely get on one of his Justin rants — which was really a Will and Daddy issues venting session.

Erin just shrugged, though. "I don't know. I guess because you're a teenager."

"You weren't living with them yet when you were thirteen?" he gave her a glance. He was always trying to prod a bit to get a better picture of her past — to do the math.

She shook her head. "No," she allowed. "But I knew Hank." She gave Jay a little smile but wrapped her arms around herself at the memory. "He knew it was my birthday. He took me out for a burger and ice cream. Actually – it was a giant slab of chocolate cake and ice cream 'a la mode'. I'd never heard that before. I thought he was being … weird. But he was … a weird guy."

"He is a weird guy," Jay allowed. "And likely terrifying when you're a twelve year old street kid."

She shrugged and picked up one of the boxes of 100 baseball cars. Maybe she could put them in the piñata. Though they'd likely get damaged when they fell out. Or with Eth's beating of the thing. Then he'd be unimpressed with the damage.

"I don't remember being that scared of him. Ever," she admitted. "But … I tried to convince myself I wasn't scared of much of anything then."

"Don't you still do that?" Jay teased. "Game face."

She cast him a look. "No," she corrected. "I try to convince everyone around me that I'm not. I know what I'm scared of."

"What are you scared of?" he asked.

She gave him an annoyed look. "Yea, let's have that conversation in the Walmart, Jay?"

"This is actually a Target," he said. "It's much higher class."

She allowed him a little smile and dropped the cards into the basket. It might be the best she came up with for the piñata and if she decided against it, she could either give it as the second half of her gift to Eth or keep it for future bribes to get him to stop being a moody, fucking teen-aged brat.

"I ate that whole piece of cake, though," she muttered. "He'd teased me about not knowing where I was putting it and that I ate like a teenaged boy."

"You still do," Jay put flatly.

She rolled her eyes. He said that a lot. She knew she didn't have the best dietary habits. But a lot of that had changed with Eth's dietary restrictions and her helping care for him. She actually thought that if it wasn't Eth's health issues that sent the family for broke, it would be the dietary requirements. Everything they had to feed him and not feed him to try to combat the inflammation in his body and to keep him health and on his feet. It was expensive and labor intensive to maintain.

"I think he was just happy I was eating," she said. "I wasn't exactly getting three-square meals a day out of a stocked refrigerator at Bunny's."

"I'm sure it was stocked up with beer and vodka," Jay muttered.

Erin frowned a little at that. Because it was true. And it wasn't. A lot of times Bunny didn't pay the electric on time to even have the fridge running to have a reason to stock anything in it – even her booze.

"I gave him a lot of attitude that night," Erin said. "Even though he was trying to do something nice. Treated him like he was some perv-y old man. Trying to woo me with a burger and fries."

"He clearly didn't know how you feel about fries," Jay deadpanned.

She gave him a little smack but gazed at the floor for a moment — thinking about that dirty little diner. The old worn vinyl booths. Orange. It was gross. But it was likely a place that he thought no one would go into. No one would see them who he didn't want seeing them. That he'd have her away from all of that — her life — for an hour or so. That she got his undivided attention for an hour or so — even though he didn't really talk, because he never did. He'd ask the occasional question but he mostly just grunted something that almost resembled interest when she replied. When she talked about school or Bunny or home life or who she was running with those days. He didn't pry things out of her. Just was present. That seemed to be Hank's trick to parenting most of the time — even now. Though, she didn't know he was parenting then. She didn't know what having a parent looked like then.

"When I'd finished eating, he put the cash down for the bill. I remember eyeing it. Thinking that if he left me sitting there, I might be able to swipe it," she shook her head at that memory.

Though, she likely would've just taken the change — and what was likely supposed to have been left as a tip. She probably wouldn't have taken it all — stolen the meal. Even if she was tempted to take that twenty. To pocket it.

"He looked at me. I could tell he knew what I was thinking. But he didn't say anything. Just pulled a CD of this death metal band that I liked, always wearing their fucking tshirt. Dirty, holes. Always had it on, though. He pulls the CD out of his pocket and a pack of batteries. For this shitty old disc man I always had with me. The thing barely worked. And he told me, I should always have my eyes and ears open. To watch my back. But when I couldn't take what I was hearing or seeing going on in Bunny's anymore – that if I wasn't gonna call him – that I get out of the room where the shit was happening, get my back to a wall, put on my headphones, listen to that CD until I couldn't hear what was going on anymore, and keep my eyes on the fucking door."

Jay was just staring at her. It likely revealed a little too much about what her life had actually looked like then. The kind of shit — and people — that Bunny had coming in and out of their home. What Erin could and couldn't run away from. The minor protections she did have. The limited escape. And just what — who — had her back. But she shrugged and allowed a little smile. "Then he got up to leave and just said, 'It's gonna be alright, Kiddo'."

"Sounds like a decent thirteenth …" Jay said cautiously but his eyes held sympathetic concern.

She knew it likely didn't sound decent to him. That it likely sounded horrible. Because maybe it was. It wasn't a birthday party at a baseball diamond in a city party with a barbecue and a piñata. But it'd been a safe place for an hour or so with a decent meal and a piece of cake as big as her head. And actual gifts. Things she couldn't afford on her own. Items she would've shoplifted when she needed because money she came by had to be spent on things like food and rent and water bills — not CDs and batteries for a broken Disc Man. So it really was a decent birthday to her. It was likely one of the best birthdays she had up to that point. Maybe looking back on it — it still was one of the best. Because it was a turning point. She might not have fully registered it then — but it was someone caring about her. Someone taking care of her. Being kind to her. And that only happened so often.

So she just smiled a little more. "It was," she said. "And he was right. It was alright. He had me home in time to celebrate my fourteenth." She laughed and Jay looked at her. "We still had chocolate cake a la mode then too."

Jay reached and found her hand and gave it a little squeeze. "I think he'll make sure Eth has a decent one too."

She smiled thinly. "He will. He likes being right."


	91. Trying

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 91 - Mean Girl.**

Erin squinted questioningly at her phone and glanced at Voight's office, before picking it up off her desk and making her way out of the bullpen. She'd managed to beeline to the locker room just before the final ring that would've sent it to voice mail and picked up.

"Hey?" she put into the phone.

"Oh …," Olive stumbled on the other end of the line. "Sorry, I thought it was going to go to voice mail."

"Is everything alright?" Erin asked. Maybe she should've let it go to voicemail. It might've been easier for the both of them – especially if it was what Olive expected.

"Ah … yeah …," Olive stuttered. "Actually … I know you must be at work … but do you have a few minutes?"

Erin rolled her eyes at that but leaned her shoulder against the end of the lockers and started picking at the poster there. A kielbasa supper. From months ago. But no one had bothered to tear it down or switch it out. When something more immediate came up, the new poster would just get taped over that one. No one would bother to tear it down. Though, she might manage to do half the job for them if Olive kept her on the phone too long.

"I guess a few," she muttered.

She wasn't that interested in even giving her a few. She was pretty frustrated with Justin at that point – and unfortunately that was overflowing into Olive. Even though it wasn't entirely Olive's fault that Justin had decided to be a giant dick to his family as of late. Or as of always. The funny thing was, that Erin used to be the one to come to Justin's defence. To say he'd been through a lot. He'd lost his mom. In the process he'd lost the little brother he'd known and the kind of dad Hank could be. And he'd ended up on a tailspin that landed him in jail. That was a lot to fucking deal with. It had fucked him up. He needed time to find his feet and straighten out and get his head on straight.

The thing was – he'd had that time. He'd more than had that time. And her and Hank had helped him get his head on straight and helped him find his feet and helped him settle into his new adult life – as a solider, a husband, and a father. But he was still a giant fucking dick. And anymore – being the one still home and still dealing with mopping up the residual mess from … Erin didn't even know … Camille's death, Justin's drunk driving, Ethan's brain injury, Hank's spin-out, Ethan's M.S. diagnosis? Erin didn't know what she was cleaning up. It didn't even matter anymore. It wasn't even cleaning up. It was just that this was life. It was what it looked like. It was the way it was. And she was doing the best she fucking could with it – well dealing with her own fucking baggage too and trying to settle into her own future too. Her own husband and house and family.

And that was hard. It was really fucking hard when there was a sick kid at home who needed a whole lot of support and help and attention. And she was the one there – around – who could see that it didn't fucking matter how strong or stubborn or charge-through Hank was – he needed help. And he was the ONLY person in her life who'd come to her aide when she needed it the most. She couldn't exactly leave him flailing in the wind. She couldn't do that to Eth either. But apparently Justin could and apparently he felt he could look down his nose at her – hold it against her – that she was the one who was home and having to deal with all this. Like that was something she would've chosen. Like this was the life she always imagined. Like it was just about being the "golden child" and earning some kind of points with Hank.

She'd just reached a done point. She'd thought that things would've calmed and settled by now. That Justin would've come back with his half-assed apologies and they all would've just acted like that was enough and it was water under the bridge. But there hadn't been apologies – not even half-assed ones. And now it was almost six months later – it was his brother's birthday, it was clearly important to his dad and likely more important to Eth than he was letting on – but Justin wasn't doing anything to make up for lost time and get this fixed. He was just … making it harder. He just kept calling with little mind fucks. Indecisiveness and insecurities and this pity-party, woe is me shit that never looked good on him anyways but just made her want to smack him now. Because she didn't feel sorry for him. Not with his state-side job, and his base housing, and his nice wife and his beautiful baby. Not with a dad who still loved and supported him – no matter what kind of douche he was being.

So, yeah. She had a few minutes. She could spare a few minutes. But she didn't really want to.

"Umm …," Olive sputtered – because Erin's tone was likely more than clear in exactly how she felt about giving her a few minutes of her time. "… well … me and Henry are just at the store and … I sort of thought maybe it'd be nice if Henry was able to send Ethan a birthday gift. So I just … sort of wanted some advice on what Ethan might … like …"

Erin let out a sigh and picked at the tape a little bit more. "I'm sure the PlayStation will be more than enough," she provided flatly.

It would be a stupid, ridiculous amount actually. But it hadn't seemed to matter how many times she'd said to Justin that Hank was putting up lots of roadblocks in Ethan's way to being able to make that purchase – because he didn't want him to have one in the house yet. That Hank had even stricter rules about Ethan using the Xbox than he did about any other screentime in the house. That he wasn't getting free-run of the videogames. That the only games Hank was allowing in the house were ones that were E or T rated and even those there were lots he was vetoing. That if he wanted to get Eth videogames – he'd be better to get him an iTunes or App Store card so he could put something on his phone or iPad.

And, even if and when Hank did open the door wide enough to allow Ethan to join the rest of teen-aged male humanity by having a fully functional, modern videogame system that new games were still releasing on – that Eth had been saving and saving for years. It was something he would purchase himself. That he'd get more pride out of being able to buy it himself than he would just having it handed to him. Not to mention it being handed to him was going to piss off Hank to no end and that Ethan was definitely going to interpret it as another moment of Justin just trying to "buy" him. And the more time that went by between Christmas and Justin figuring out how to reconcile with his little brother the more Ethan was pointing to other times Justin had hurt him and the ensuing gifts that had been presented when he tried to make it up. This wouldn't be seen as a birthday present – it'd be seen as a bribe. And it wasn't going to go over well.

But Justin hadn't acted like he'd heard any of it. He didn't care. Because he never did. He did what he wanted. He did things his way. He was a lot like his father that way. Only with less common fucking sense.

"Oh …," Olive said. "Well … I've been trying to tell Justin that maybe that's … not the best idea."

"It's not," Erin agreed. Likely too harshly.

"Umm … yeah," Olive agreed and Erin heard one of Henry's squawk and babbles in the background. It made her smile thinly. "I was thinking more just … something small … or maybe even a toy … from Henry. Like … I noticed when we were visiting that Ethan sorta seems to be doing Lego again? And, I remember back at Christmas, Hank had told us Lego wasn't such a good idea."

Erin let out a little noise and rested her head against the lockers as she tried to figure out how to deal with that. She could lie – just say that Eth's tremor was bad and Lego was still out. But if Olive had fucking seen the Lego – then she'd just look like a bitch for saying that.

There was more to the Lego in the house at the moment, though. It'd become Ethan and Jay's little thing. The monthly sort-of bribe to flaunt over Eth when he was under their care. To get him to drop the attitude or to finish his homework or to eat his fucking dinner. A random material object of his liking each month. But they'd settled into Lego. Maybe because it was a cool toy for the amount of money that could be spent. Maybe because it was Star Wars and Jay was tolerant of that geekdom. Erin didn't really know or care what the why was behind it. What she cared about was that the Lego had turned into a thing that Eth was sharing with Jay. That once a month they'd have their little outing to the Target on a Sunday morning and they'd come back with some new little ship thing and sit at the table doing it. And that Eth would actually let Jay help – because it was true – his tremor did make it hard for him to manage some of the fine motor skills needed to put together the little models. But that after the little model was together, it'd get taken upstairs and added to another shelf showing off yet another one of Eth's weirdly obsessive little collections.

But it was Jay's thing. His thing with Eth. And Erin didn't want Olive – or Justin … or even little Henry … infringing on that.

"Lego's likely not a great idea," she put flatly. "He still needs a lot of help with the sets."

"Oh," Olive said. "Because they've got this pretty cool hotrod here. It's one of those ones you pull back. Technic? And I noticed that it sort of seems like he might be getting into cars now?"

Erin shrugged. "A little, I guess," she muttered. "Maybe more motorcycles."

She shouldn't have said that out loud – even though it was true. Something had clicked in Eth lately. She thought it partly had to do with the Robotics team and the building of the robots and the motors and mechanisms to get those things to move. But she thought another part of it was the motorcycle print at Jay's apartment and his dad's various scale models kicking around. But there'd been repeated utterings from Ethan about his dad getting the motorcycle out of the storage unit. About how much fun it would be to work on the motorcycle. It was a whole lot of talk about the fucking motorcycle – most of which Hank seemed to be trying to ignore and dismiss. But Eth had a way of wearing people down. Especially if they were going to have to listen to this motorcycle crap for the next however many years.

"Oh, there's a motorcycle one too," Olive said excitedly. Erin could hear the cart push down the aisle. "It's doesn't pull back like the cars but it's still one of those mechanical type sets."

"He'd likely just like some clothes or something," Erin interjected. Because she didn't want them feeding this motorcycle thing and she didn't want them infringing on Jay's Lego thing with Eth either.

"Oh …," Olive sounded defeated. "OK … what size is he wearing right now?"

Erin rubbed at her eyebrow a little impatiently. Actually she was getting annoyed. That she knew this stuff. That she could answer these questions. That Justin didn't know any of this shit – about his little brother. And it wasn't because he was a guy. It was because he didn't try.

"Depends," Erin mumbled. "He's usually a medium or large in boys or a small or x-small in men's."

"Oh …," Olive said. "That might be hard to pick something for then."

"He wants some Under Armor branded clothes," Erin monotoned. "Just get him a gift card to one of the outlets or Dick's."

"We don't really have those here," Olive said.

Erin made another annoyed noise. "Want me to grab one for you?" she near spat. Because why the fuck not. Everyone paid for things – cleaned up things, managed things – on Justin's behalf anyways. Might as well pick up the damn gift card. Why not sign the card for them too?

"Ah … I was really sort of thinking that was a gift from Henry … that maybe it could be … less teenager-y and more … little boy-y."

Erin glared at the wall ahead of her as she tried to formulate a response that didn't include informing Olive that she'd just made up multiple words.

"They've got some Jurassic World toys here," Olive interjected before she could, though. "Is he still into that movie?"

Erin sighed a little. "Eth likes anything that's dinosaurs," she allowed.

"Umm … OK," Erin could almost hear Olive nodding with relief that she might've found something. "Which ones does he have already? It looks like Henry likes … which one is that, sweetie? …. The … an … kilo … saurus? I'm likely saying that wrong."

"Ankylosaurus," Erin pronounced expertly and smiled thinly at the thought of Henry having that one in his hand – having picked it from the shelf. "That used to be one of Eth's favorites when he was little too."

"Oh, you hear that, Henry?" Olive said into the phone - because Erin suspected it was more intended for her to hear than Henry. "Auntie Erin says you and Uncle Ethan have the same tastes." There was a pause but Erin could hear a bit of a scuffle. "He literally has it in his mouth. I think we might have to buy it now."

Erin smiled a little more. "He doesn't have the Jurassic World model of that one but he does have other ones."

"Oh …" Olive sounded defeated again.

"He might still like it," she allowed. "But he's been talking about the raptor toys in that set."

There was some movement. "There's a bunch of them …" Olive muttered.

"There's one named Blue," Erin said.

"Is it blue?" Olive asked.

Erin rolled her eyes, though, she supposed it wasn't an entirely stupid question. "No," she provided – trying to do so with a little tone or attitude as possible.

"Umm … there's two called Blue," Olive provided. "One's wearing … a saddle maybe? And the other one … growls?"

"Whichever one looks more like a dinosaur and less like a toy," Erin said.

"What do you think of this one, Henry?" Olive babbled. "You think Uncle Ethan will like it?"

It was cute but Erin was done. "OK, so I've got to get back to my desk, we're—"

"Erin," Olive interrupted. "I just actually … I know that Justin's been … indecisive about what he wants to do … with coming up for Ethan's birthday…"

Erin let out an inward sigh at that and braced herself to bite her tongue to keep from saying anything. Because they had a silent agreement in the house – that none of this was Olive or Henry's fault. That they were allowed to be upset with Justin. That they could be mad at him. That they could fight with him. But that anger wasn't to be projected onto Olive or the baby. And sometimes that was hard. Really fucking hard. But Hank had a point. It wasn't their fault – especially Henry's.

"But I've been thinking that maybe me and Henry would come up either way," Olive continued and Erin slumped back against the lockers from having straightened. "I mean, I wanted to know, what you thought of that? If … if Ethan would be OK with that, because I know that Hank will say it's OK even if Ethan's not. And I know you'll tell me the truth about … if it'd be better if we … just … stayed put."

Erin looked down and tried to decide if she knew the answer to that question. But she didn't.

"Olive …," she sighed. "I don't know. We've talked to Eth about if he actually wants Justin there but we hadn't put it forward as just you and Henry."

"Because … he was a little … cold … in May. But I know it was Mother's Day and …" Olive trailed off. She didn't want to vocalize what Justin had done. She didn't want to vocalize that maybe Eth didn't like her or didn't like Henry.

"I can talk to him about it," she allowed. She didn't really want to be charged with that responsibility now too – but she would. Because the mediator seemed to be her role in the family anymore.

But apparently Olive wanted or needed more because silence just hung on the line. Erin could hear Henry babbling and clattering around in the cart – likely flapping whatever dinosaur toys had been selected as his gift to Ethan. But her and Olive didn't exchange anymore words for a long beat.

"Does he want Justin there?" Olive finally asked with this quiet cautiousness.

Erin sighed and shook her head gazing at the exit. Getting back to the file that contained pictures of a body at a crime scene was seeming pretty good right about now. "You should talk to Hank about that," she said – because she didn't want to get involved in that discussion with Justin's wife. That was asking too much.

The silence hung again and then Olive's awkward voice came over the line again. "I know Justin hasn't been making this that easy," she said. "But—"

"Olive," Erin interjected harshly, "I don't want to hear his excuses and I really don't want to hear you listing off his excuses for him."

The silence hung again and Erin was again about to end the call when Olive started to speak again.

"It'd really help if you called him," Olive said meekly. "He listens to you better than his dad. It'd mean a lot to him … . To … getting this … resolved … if you called him."

"Olive," she sighed again. Because she'd taken his calls. Every one of them. Even when she didn't really want to. But none of those calls had been to say what he needed to say. To do what he needed to do – to get this resolved. And this time – she didn't think it was her responsibility to be the one reaching out to him. TO chase after him. To push this forward. To bring the family back together – when it'd been him who'd found a way to drive them apart again. It wasn't her who needed to be offering up mea culpas or waving white flags. It was up to him.

"Erin," Olive near pleaded. "I just … I'd really like to be there on Ethan's birthday. And I just really want things to be OK by the fall. I want us to be a family. For Henry."

Erin pressed her forehead against the cool metal of the lockers. "I've really got to go," she said. "It's a crazy day."

Silence hung again. "Yeah … OK …" Olive allowed but the sadness was palpable.

Erin frowned, though. Because she got it. She really did. The fracture between them hurt right now. Knowing what family could feel like and knowing that having that just out of your reach stung too. Badly. But she hated that she always was the one swallowing her pride and playing the peacemaker.

"Thanks for trying, Olive," Erin conceded. "It's nice of you. Eth will appreciate it."

The silence hung again but then Olive allowed. "Well … hopefully he can appreciate it in person, but if he's not comfortable with that, maybe … you can let me know so I can get this in the express post for him."

"Yea …" Erin allowed.

"OK …" Olive said. "Bye …"

But it wasn't OK. And they both knew that.


	92. Breaking Point

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 91 - TRYING.**

"What's all this?" Justin asked, causing Olive to give him a glance from where she was attempting to be the doting wife – warming him up dinner for when he'd come in the door. She'd originally intended to sit down with him but they'd kept him later than she expected so she'd nibbled. Now she wouldn't get a chance to eat with him because it was right into Henry's nighttime routine. She'd let him have a few minutes with Daddy but Justin was militant about Henry having a schedule and she supposed she supported that too – to a point. Not quite the same point as Justin seeing as she was the one who had to manage it about 90 percent of the time. But after he got his brief visit with Daddy, it'd be in the tub and into bed.

Justin was examining the dinosaurs her and Henry had picked up for Ethan that afternoon.

"Oh, Henry picked those for Ethan," she provided. "For his birthday." She turned back to him. "Do you know if we have any wrapping paper or packing paper around? I couldn't find any."

Justin shrugged and kept looking at the toys. "I thought we said we were going to get him the game system," he said, wagging the toy at her and then letting it set back down to make a silly face at his son.

She sighed and glanced at him from the stove again. "You said that," she stressed. "I said that's a bad idea. Erin told you—"

"Erin just doesn't want to be the one giving the lamer gift for once," Justin muttered, working on pulling Henry out of his high chair. He better be prepared to be the one to chase him around the house, if he was going to do that too.

Olive gazed at him. "It's not a competition, Justin," she groaned at him. "Your dad said that if we were planning on getting something fancy, that he'd really appreciate if we got him a new sleeping bag or some sort of … extra liner thing for the one he has."

Justin rolled his eyes as he put their son on the ground and grabbed his hands doing a brief little dance with him that prompted Henry to grab at his Daddy's knees in a quick hug before he took off at a wobbling clip for the living room and his mess of toys.

Justin started trailing after him. "What thirteen year old wants a sleeping bag …" he muttered as he went.

Olive shoved the roasting veggies back in the oven and followed after. "It's something he needs," she argued. "And he'd use it. He was still complaining about being cold when I was there last month."

"If it's something he actually needs – for a reason like that – Pop will buy it for him," Justin said, having already plopped himself on the ground amid Henry's pile of toys.

Olive crossed her arms. "I think he was maybe trying to give us an easy way to help that him and Ethan would both appreciate," she pressed. Justin gave her an unimpressed look. She huffed at him. "We aren't buying him a PlayStation, Justin."

"That's something he actually wants," he muttered at her, accepting a toy their son had brought over to him.

"It's not something your dad wants him to have," she argued more firmly.

"Then he shouldn't have let Deputy Dog get him an Xbox," Justin said flatly.

Olive rolled her eyes and looked at the ceiling. "Don't call him that," she huffed.

Justin gave her a small, teasing smile. "Calm down," he said.

She huffed at him. "Justin, how'd you feel if him or Erin were saying that sort of thing about me?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "We don't say it to their face. They wouldn't say it to ours."

"But they could," she said. "Erin and your dad. They could say a lot worse. They have a lot more reason to dislike me and … they've always been real polite to me. Real supportive of me … and us. And Henry."

Justin sighed and gave her a look. "Oliv' don't get so worked up 'bout this."

"Just …" she sighed hard. "Just … it's not a competition, Justin. It's not a competition about who gets Ethan the best birthday present. Or who gets him the best game system. Or even for his affection. You're his brother. Jay is … Jay! It's not the same."

He cast her an even more annoyed look. There was warning to it. Because he never liked talking about anything.

"Well, we AREN'T buying a PlayStation," she stressed again. If they weren't gong to talk about his insecurities, she was at least going to argue that point. She wasn't going to back down on it. Let him get his way. For once. "We can't afford it and your dad helped us out too much during the pregnancy and when Henry got here for us to be showing up with something that costs that much. It looks bad. It looks even worse when every idea that your dad and Erin has given me have all been about forty dollars or less. Even the 'fancy' sleeping bag, is like eighty dollars."

"They don't need to give us ideas," Justin muttered. "I know my brother."

Olive glared at him. "You don't know your brother," she seethed at him. "You haven't tried to know him since he was like nine, Justin."

He gave her a dirty look. "I know what thirteen year old guys like," he argued.

"No," she raised her voice at him. "You keep trying to tell him what you think thirteen year old guys are supposed to like. That's why we've got all this … stupid tension to begin with … because … you couldn't just … let him be him. And … you're afraid to accept he's this … " She sighed and looked at him, her eyes drifting to their son, who'd found his talking car toys and was rolling them back-and-forth across the ground. Her own eyes softened at that but she crossed her arms and looked back to her husband. "He's a brain-damaged kid with a chronic inflammatory illness, Justin," she said. "He's not your average thirteen year old. He's likely never gonna be. You've got to stop being scared of that."

"I'm not scared of it," he hissed at her.

She frowned at him. "Then why'd what happened happen?"

He shook his head at her and shifted his attention back to their son.

"He's a real nice kid," Olive put to him. "And he's got lots of interests even if some of them are still little kiddish. But I don't think it's that abnormal that a boy likes Star Wars or still collects Hot Wheels. Erin says he's getting really into motorcycles right now."

Justin gave her a glance. "Then why'd you get him dinosaur toys?"

She shrugged. "Because why not? He likes them."

"He's thirteen," Justin stressed again.

"So … maybe he'll be like a … paleontologist … or whatever they are called," she gestured madly.

He gave her an annoyed look.

"It's from Henry," she defended. "I thought it'd be cute if he got him a toy. We can get him something more … grown-up and practical. Just … not a PlayStation. Erin said he'd really like some Under—"

"I don't care what Erin said," Justin barked and gave her a look. "This is how all this started. E quotes Pop like gospel and now you quote Erin like she knows best."

"She's there, Justin," she said meekly. "She knows your brother. She sees him every day."

Justin shook his head. "Right, so she's the one who gets to have a relationship with him," he said with that pouty edge that had such a bad-boy quality to it when they were teenagers and he talked about his family and his perspective on life. But these days, it just made her mad. Because they weren't teenagers anymore.

"You aren't trying to have a relationship with him right now," Olive crossed her arms. "You won't even tell them if we're going up on the weekend. You won't even tell me, Justin."

He gave her another dirty look and went back to flipping through the pages of the book Henry had handed him but clearly had no interest in actually having read to him. He just wanted someone to hold it while he near ripped the pages out in his violent turns.

"You're being so unfair," Olive whispered looking at the ground and glancing at him to see concerned eyes gazing questioningly at her. "It's unfair to them. All of them. Your whole family. But it is to me and Henry too." She let out a little sigh, shaking her head and looking at the ground again. "Why are we even going back if you don't want to work on your relationship with your family, Justin?"

"It will be fine," he said flatly.

She let out a breath and looked at him. "I want us to be a family, Justin. All of us. I want Henry to have that. And I want us to be a part of it too. You don't see your dad with your two-minute phone calls. I see him on Skype on the weekend. I saw him last month. He's exhausted. He looks so tired. We're grown-ups. We should be helping him. Not making things more stressful."

She turned and headed for the door, gathering her coat and slipping on her shoes. She could feel Justin staring at her.

"Where are you going?" he gaped with this quiet edge of panic.

She shrugged. "We need wrapping paper," she said and reached for the front door. "And I need a break."


	93. The Program

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 92 - Breaking Point.**

Voight heard the momentary creak in the dining room floor, giving way that his son was headed into the kitchen. He'd heard him come down the stairs but based on the strained visit so far, he'd expected him to go and take up space in the front room. Stare at the television. Effectively continue to ignore each other. But apparently Justin had decided he was either going to try a bit harder or he was going to try to push buttons. Voight hoped it was the former and gave him a glance from the prep work he was doing for Magoo's party.

"Erin's not helping?" Justin put to him flatly in his mosey into the kitchen. So much for the trying. He was going right for pushing buttons.

"Your sister ain't the hired help," he put right back at him.

J treating Erin like the fucking nanny was the whole start of this all spiraling out of control in the first place at Christmas. Voight didn't want them to end up in that spectacular flame out again. And, they were as sure as fuck at the point that J had no right to be treating his sister like some sort of second-class citizen in the family. She'd more than proved that after Camille had been gone. Been her who took care of house and his teenaged son while he took care of funeral arrangements and his comatose little boy. But even taking that out of the equation, the past twelve months, Erin had been invaluable to the family. Voight knew that his sanity and the state of his command – his grip on holding onto his rank and his unit – wouldn't be where it was, if it wasn't for his girl stepping up to the plate. She'd gone above and beyond – for him and her brother. And she'd done it in the midst of having to struggle to pull up her own bootstraps too and removing herself on the cop in very real ways. She'd made him real proud on multiple levels. Made him love the kid even more. Know that all those years ago he'd made the right decision even more.

Erin wasn't hired help. She wasn't a nanny. Or a babysitter. Or a second-class citizen. She was fucking family. She was J and E's big sister. And she was his fucking daughter. If anyone's status and value in the family was waxing and waning these days – it was fucking Justin's.

And Voight hated thinking like that. He didn't really know if he actually thought that way. Though some days he sure as fuck felt like his oldest boy found ways to just keep slapping him – no matter how hard he tried to be the father his kids needed. Which was fine. If J wanted to do that to him, he could handle it. But he was taking a whole lot more issue anymore when J's issues with him were flooding over onto his other two kids. J didn't need to be slapping at Erin or Eth. Neither of them were doing anything so wrong. They were just being themselves and doing the best they could. Had their own quirks and challenges and annoyances – just like J. And, his fucking 24-year-old son needed to start coming to grips with that. He was a grown man in the family now – not some teenaged kid. He needed started treating Voight and Erin and Magoo accordingly. As a man – not as the fucking middle child.

Still, he wanted to be happy his son was home. He missed his kid. No matter what kind of pain in the ass he was. And he liked getting the time with his grandson. Kid was growing in leaps and bounds. Was already a going concern with the speed he was moving at. Was real glad he was getting to see him with just a month between visits right now. Was real hopeful that he'd get to see him again for July Fourth. That he'd be able to get away from the job for a couple days – and that this would go well enough that Eth would be amendable to – for a trip down to base at the beginning of August for H's first birthday. Be there for his grandson. And his son. The daughter-in-law. Meet some of the people J was actually associating with. Hopefully better than the ones he got mixed up with in Chicago. Seeing H three or four months in a row – sounded good to him. Then he'd get his grandson home by the end of the month and he'd be making sure he was in front of that kid and taking him out to the park at least once a week. As much as he could. Be a real presence in his only grandkid's life. Enjoy him while he was little and not so much of a pain in the ass quite yet.

But even though he wanted to feel that way. Even though he was glad. He also wasn't so happy about it. He'd told J back at Christmas that he didn't want him back in the house until he started seeing the man and the father and the husband in him – there in Chicago and not just down on base. Told J again back in March that it wasn't him who needed apologies right then. It was his brother and his sister. That he needed to put some real effort into mending things up with them.

J hadn't done that, though. Not yet. Had done some little token reach-outs. Half-assed. Feelers to see if Erin or Eth would be amendable to letting him back in. But they weren't fucking apologies. Not fucking acknowledgement of the hurt he'd caused around the holidays. The hurt he'd caused Magoo most of that year. Or the fucking hell he'd added to them all pulling through the loss of their mom. Nothing. And it was a tough pill to swallow that a lot of that was likely never going to come. That it likely wasn't something that J and his fucking ego were capable of. That he might've raised a man who could wishy-washy say "I messed up" but not one who could really fucking admit when he'd done wrong and fix it. Own it.

So maybe that was Voight's own fault. Hadn't done a good enough job with his oldest boy. His first kid. Maybe he'd taken a different route with Erin – drilled the need for truth into her for her to have a place in their home. Maybe he'd ultimately do even better with E. Or maybe he just didn't know how to instill that into his kids. Hadn't provided enough of an example. Or at least hadn't in the right ways at the right times in their lives.

He didn't fucking know. And that pissed him off. But it pissed him off more that he'd compromised the standard he'd put out their for his son – the objective – and had let him back into the house. It pissed him off even more that it'd had to be Erin – who'd taken a whole lot of the brunt of J's anger in this fucking mess – who'd fucking reached out to him and told him to come home. Because his girl fucking got that J not being there would just make things worse. And that lack of acknowledgement from J to his baby brother – on his thirteenth birthday, one year since the boy came home from a place he'd gotten sent to in a lot of ways because of J, and after a fucking medical year from hell – would do a whole lot of damage. Damage that might be irreparable, especially as Magoo moved into his teen years. If J and Erin were any example of what his kids were like in their teens – it was going to be a fucking rollercoaster. And one that J might not be allowed to get on if he wasn't willing to get in line now.

So his girl had waved a white flag. Talked to her brother. Beat through that fucking skull of his and at least made him partially see the light. But it'd come with no acknowledgement or apology for past wrongs. And there they were. Justin, Olive and his grandson were in the house.

And, Voight couldn't say anything much. He was having to suck up his anger and pride at wavering on the standard he'd laid down. Because Erin had sucked up a whole lot of pride to talk to J and to basically forgive and forget so they could all move on – whether that was really how she wanted to play it or not. Because there were other people in the equation. There was E. And there was Olive and their was little H. And when there's family – kids – your decisions and actions couldn't be all about you. Apparently his childless daughter got that. His son – the father – didn't yet.

But it was what it was. As much as J changed – or as much as Voight kept hoping he saw change in him – things still stayed the same. Maybe you really could only teach an old dog so many tricks. Get them young.

J just made an annoyed sound at him, though, and leaned against the opposite counter – no offer to help. Yet. "I just meant I was surprised she's not here is all."

Voight cast him a look. He was really trying to do his best to keep his attitude under control too – because he was happy to get some time with his son and his grandson and because it was for Eth and his birthday after a real rough year for his kid. But sometimes staying stony with J was a lot to ask.

"Erin doesn't usually come over on Fridays," he provided. "Got her own life. Got a fiancée she should be spending time with."

Justin eyed him like that was somehow fucking news to him. The kid could knock-up a girl and come home lickety split on his first leave and put a ring on her finger – but couldn't fucking grasp that maybe his sister should be spending time with her fucking husband-to-be too. That maybe they wanted to spend time together. That they didn't need to be over at Voight's playing house. That they should enjoy some time doing whatever the fuck a young engaged couple did before they ended up married with children.

"Halstead coming tomorrow?" was all J managed to ask that time.

Voight ran his tongue around his mouth at that comment, slowing the slicing motions of the knife that he'd been easily pushing through the soft flesh of a watermelon that he was getting into pre-cut wedges. Part of a plan of not having an extra thing to do the day off and on-site. Didn't want to have to keep track of food prep, knife locations, and kids – on top of doing the grilling. But now he near shoved the tip of the knife in the cutting board – to keep from waving it at his son as he talked. About the only thing that stopped him from that puncture was that the board was a fifth wedding anniversary gift of his and Camille's. Knives might've been his. Kitchen might've been hers. But that thick slab of wood was theirs – the one on the counter and that dumb one standing in front of him.

"If you want to keep things level 'round here, you are going to have to start out by recognizing that Halstead – Jay – he's close to being a member of this family now. He's your sister's fiancée – and whatever you feel about him or about their engagement – you are gonna treat him accordingly. And that's as a family member – no different than Olive upstairs," he glared at his son. But maybe asking Justin to treat Jay like a member of the family was too little. Sure wasn't like he treated his family so hot these days.

Justin just shook his head. "Just meant if he was going to be over here or just at this barbecue thing, Pop," he muttered.

Voight didn't like the condescension. "Asked your sister to run a couple errands in the morning," he allowed flatly. "So I'm sure her and Jay will be around in the morning."

J gave a little nod but Voight could almost see the pout on his face about it. But he wasn't going to say more. Not then. He'd hope that J would go pout in a corner by his lonesome if sharing space with the other Jay got to be too fucking much to ask. If not, there was likely going to be fucking fireworks. Magoo loved fireworks. But likely not of this variety on his fucking birthday.

Thing was – Voight was going to be just as pissed if J pulled the brat routine. Seeing it out of your adult son was bad enough. But it being directed at Erin or Halstead would just push at his buttons. He didn't doubt it'd push at Halstead's too. Could turn into a dangerous combination.

But Voight wasn't going to tell Erin that with her getting J to get his ass there – it likely meant she could leave her Jay at the curb. Fucking ridiculous conversation for grown-ups to have. And unfair to Halstead and unfair to Eth too.

Voight knew that Halstead would be on E's invite list. His fucking must attend list. It'd be interesting to know if it was his brother or his future brother-in-law would win out on that list if he was only able to have one in attendance. Voight wasn't going to drive it toward testing out that hypothesis. Reality was that Halstead had more than earned an invite to the barbecue – that year, in more ways that J had. He'd been a help to the family and he'd been a help to Erin. He'd kept Erin together during the year – which meant that Erin had been able to help keep the household functioning too. And he'd been real kind and real helpful to Magoo along the way.

E didn't have too many friends and the kid considered Halstead one of them – even if it was of a pseudo friend variety. At least it was someone. Kid needed some positive adult male role models in his life. Hadn't really been getting one from his brother the past twelve months.

"So what's the deal with Magoo?" J asked. "Why isn't he down here helping?"

"Because he's sleeping," Voight said, turning away from the damn kid and going back to the chopping. Fucking kid being critical of the level of help his baby brother is offering up but still hadn't offered any help of his own. E had done a whole lot to help out with some of the veggie and salsa prep earlier in the night. E helping out with pulling his weight in meal prep was rarely an issue – even on the nights he was fucking tremoring or too nauseated to eat. The kid still got that a meal needed to get on the table for others and leftovers he could eat the next day needed to be in the fridge for him to take for lunch. At twelve … thirteen in half a day. Fuck.

"He sleepin' or just avoidin' me?" Justin put flatly.

Voight let out a long annoyed breath and shifted his eyes away from his work again to look at J. "He's sleeping," he said firmly. "Your brother was hurting. He wanted to take one of his pain meds to kick it in the ass because he wants to be able to enjoy his party tomorrow. The pills knock him out good."

Justin looked away at that – off into the breezeway like that was real interesting suddenly.

Kid insisted on knowing about E's illness and health status and then acted like he could barely stomach it every time it got brought up. Drove Voight fucking crazy and made him want to keep J shut out of the whole process. But Erin fucking brow beat him whenever he defaulted to that. The kid better fucking wrap his head around dealing with it a whole lot better before the fall, though. Because he was going to make an uncomfortable situation a whole lot more uncomfortable if he couldn't learn to look E in the eyes and see the kid – not the fucking disabilities.

"How many people are coming to this party? Looks like you're prepping for the whole District or something," J mumbled.

"Mmm," Voight allowed. "Just about. Turned into a bit of a work thing. E don't got a lot of friends."

Justin's eyes moved back on him again. "Thought you had him doing … stuff …?"

Voight shrugged. "I do," he said. "But if you look at him like he's got a third head growing out of his neck, imagine how kids his age see him."

J's eyes just set there for a long time. At least he didn't argue the point. Instead he looked back to the breezeway and gestured into it.

"He doing baseball?" he asked. "They make them wear that on the cripple team?"

Voight rammed the knife through the melon and forced his hand to drop it as it demanded to grip more tightly. "He's not on a cripple team," he near hissed out. "He's on an accessibility team."

"Yeah, right," J muttered. "Wheelchair team. Whatever."

"It ain't the wheelchair team," Voight stressed glaring more at his son. "It's the accessibility team. Your brother is not a cripple. And that's catcher gear – because your brother is the team's catcher and because he worked real hard to save up and buy that gear for himself so he could have his own."

Justin made a face. "Don't you need legs to be a catcher?"

"Your brother's got legs," Voight said.

"Good ones," Justin provided flatly.

Voight smacked. "The six weeks he's been doing this has done a whole lot for him to improve the strength in his legs and his core. His physical therapists are real happy about it."

Justin snorted and gazed at the gear again. "Should tell Oliv' that trick."

Voight glared. "Sure she'd like to know," he ignored his son's sarcasm. "Seems real interested in what E's taking away from therapy and what's helping him out with his M.S. Nice that someone is."

J cast him a look. "Yea, she says he thinks he's goin' kayaking this summer."

Voight shrugged. "Is."

J snorted and when Voight smacked at him again he made a face. "Pop, c'mon. Kayaking? You think that's such a hot idea?"

Voight nodded. "Yeah, Justin, I actually do. Took some arm-wringing to get your brother into the RIC summer session. But for two weeks, he's gonna be around kids dealing with similar shit as him and the staff is going to make sure these kids get to try a whole lot of things to prove to them that they are just as capable and as able as anyone else. And when your brother has got assholes constantly trying to make him think he's not – he needs those two fucking weeks of people telling him and showing him he can. Because, you know, he put up a whole lot a fuss about participating in the RIC programs because of all this crippled and disabled noise from fucking idiots who don't know what they're talking about. But now that he's in there and participating in this team – he's seeing a whole lot of opportunity. This team won the league's World Series last year. There's a teen that's on the men's team too and he's set to get on the Paralympic team. The RIC's Hawks – they won the championships this year. Woman on their team – captain of the Paralympic team. Got kids doing karate and judo. They're taking the kids out on the water for sailing and kayaking. They're doing fucking woodworking and horseback riding. He's meeting cops and vets injured in the line of duty. Kids who've got it the same or worse than him.

"Now, you've done your fucking best to be blind to everything this family has gone through this year. To what your brother has gone through. You've worked even fucking harder to be one of those assholes who makes him feel like he's got a problem. But your brother don't got a problem, Justin. That kid has been through a hell of a fucking lot for a thirteen year old. A whole lot more than you – I'm telling you that right now. And this year has just thrown fucking bullshit at him. And it's been hard. On all of us. And he had every fucking right to play the little kid and just curl up and whine and not try. But he's manned up every step of the way. He'd tried harder than I would've ever expected him to. And he's fought through everything that's been fucking thrown at him. He's made the best of all of this. He's tried new things. He's fucking excelled at them. And he's worked his ass off to achieve that under pretty shitty circumstances.

"So, I'm real fucking proud of that kid sleeping upstairs. And he's going to have a nice fucking day at the ball diamond tomorrow – with his family and with any kids that decide to show up. He's earned that. So, this time, you're going to get with that program. It's non-optional. Me, Erin, your baby brother. We grinned and fucking bore it all this year. Tomorrow – the three of us – we're going to smile and have a nice day without having to try too hard. It's going to be you grinning and bearing it. And I'm not having that discussion with you again this visit. And I sure as fuck, Justin, better not have to have it with you again before you get back here in August. We clear?"

Justin just stared at him, before his head bobbed down, looking down his chest and over his crossed arms. "Yea, Pop."

"Good," Voight said and jutted his thumb over at some other fruit on the counter. "Core those strawberries."

He really fucking hated people just watching him work too.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: I think a lot of people missed what is now chapter 92 - Breaking Point. It was posted with a less than 24 hour gap.**


	94. Sorry, Not Sorry

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 91 - Trying.**

"You awake," Erin heard Jay ask – only it wasn't a question. It was a statement. They both knew the other wasn't sleeping. She could feel him laying on his back – staring at the ceiling. She could tell he'd been awake for … she didn't know how long. Because she didn't know how long she'd been awake either. But she did know she'd been laying on her side staring out the window long enough that the darkness had turned into early morning light.

"Yea …," she muttered.

"What you thinking about over there?" Jay asked flatly.

She made a little sound at that and smiled a bit – though, sadly. "Nadia," she allowed and could feel Jay staring at her back at that so she rolled over and let him see the sad smile. "That she would've loved organizing this birthday for Eth. And she probably would've done a hell of a lot better job than us."

Jay allowed a quiet amused sound at that and gave her a little smile of his own. "She did like the whole celebration thing," he said.

"Hmm," Erin shrugged. "I guess when you come from nothing …" She supposed she could relate. She wasn't much for celebrations like Nadia. But she knew she liked little traditions. Things that became a part of you – and your reality – that you hadn't had but suddenly you did. Like the stockings at Christmas and Hank letting you pick out your birthday dinner to cook up each year. Nothing fancy – but consistent. "She liked the decorations," she muttered. "She definitely would've gotten Eth balloons. She wouldn't have cared he was turning thirteen. And his piñata. It'd look a whole lot better than that blob out there," she gestured toward the door.

Jay smiled at her and reached to push some of her hair that had fallen in front of her face, putting it behind her ear. "It doesn't look that bad."

"It doesn't look like a baseball either," she said flatly.

He grinned wider and shrugged. "Maybe we should stop and pick up a couple balloons to offset it."

"Or to highlight how shitty it looks," she provided.

His eyes twinkled at her. They both knew the thing didn't look anything like a baseball. At all. The only thing that was offsetting any of it was that Ethan really did seem pretty set on on just wanting to beat the thing with a baseball bat. He hadn't expressed any concern about the fact the thing looked nothing like a baseball while she was making it with him. He actually seemed much more fascinated with the paper mache goop – and making all sorts of disgusting comments about what it looked like. He was such a boy. A pre-teen – teenager today – boy.

She laughed and shook her head as Jay cocked his eyebrow at her. She grinned shaking head again. "It was like he channeled her the other night," she said. "When we were doing the paper mache. He starts going on about how they could be used as waxing strips. Then he looks at me and goes, 'Does Jay wax his chest?'"

"Wait? What?" Jay gaped at her.

She just rolled her eyes and shook her head more. That had been about her reaction to the comment too but what had been funnier was, "Before I could say anything, he looks me right in the eyes, all indignant and goes, 'Erin, that's not very masculine, you know.'" She laughed and put her head down on the pillow before looking back at Jay's unimpressed face. "Masculine?" she put to him. "I've never heard him use that work before and the way he said it. It was so Nadia."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Yea, nice to know you and Nadia were talking about whether I wax or not," he muttered. "And you're talking about it with your baby brother too."

She reached and shook his shoulder. "I wasn't," she smiled at him. "It just sounded like something she'd say." Jay gave her that unimpressed look but she shrugged and smiled still. "She would've been good for him …" she muttered. "I think. Would've liked him. He likely would've had such a crush on her. She would've helped a lot this year. Too." She let out a slow breath as her eyes stung at the thought. Her smile struggled with sadness again.

"Did she know about him?" Jay asked, his hand finding her hip under the covers and gripping gently at it while he gazed into her eyes. The annoyance about the waxed chest and the commentary on his masculinity fading.

She gave a little shrug. "She sort of pieced it together," she admitted. "She had access to the personal files. She saw Hank had a dependent listed. And then me going out some weekends to see him and him calling my phone. Called him my secret boy toy."

Jay grinned a little at that. "She meet him?"

She shook her head. "No," she allowed and sighed, gazing beyond Jay. "It's hard to believe it's a year since he's been home. Got home just a few days before his birthday. I don't know where it went. Feels like so fucking much has happened but it's all just … disappeared."

"You've been pretty busy," he provided.

She allowed a little nod and gave him a frown, her hand moving to find his and grip it – their fingers intertwining. "Sometimes I sort of feel like if he hadn't come home, no matter how many people I had reaching into that hole for me, I might not have managed to pull myself out. Or at least to keep from falling back into it."

"He's been a good distraction," Jay said.

She let out a sound – amused but not amused. "A distraction," she agreed, "but I'm not sure about a good one. But … he's been … a reason … to … stay stable," she shrugged.

He gave her a little frown and reached to touch her cheek, running the back of his finger down it. "I think you've got more reasons than Eth to stay stable," he said. "Lots of them."

She gave him a weak smile. "Day by day …"

He gazed at her. She could see the concern settling in him. She could feel it in how he was gripping at her hand too.

"You goin' be OK today?" he asked.

She shrugged. "It's a weird day," she said. "For me it's …" she let out a little noise and gazed past him again at the wall, in an attempt to distract her eyes from what they were threatening to to. "The last time we were together as a family. I saw Camille a couple times after that. But … it was the … last time we were all … in the house at the same time and acknowledging each other." She sighed and found Jay's eyes again. "Eth's just been asking questions about it since Holly spat that thing at him about his seventh birthday. It's just … been making me think about it more than usual."

His hand ran up her arm, gripping at her bicep and then squeezing her shoulder. "What you thinking about it?"

She shrugged. "I don't even know," she allowed. "Just … that it was a nice day. It was fun." She eyes glistened at that and her voice cracked a bit. "I remember Hank and Camille were really happy. Smiling and laughing a lot. At the kids. At her disaster of a cake." She let out a little laugh at that and grinned at him. "It was awful," she giggled a bit.

Jay gave a little smile. But it was weak and she could see the frown resting there. "It a hard day for Hank too?"

She shook her head and looked away. She didn't know. "I mean … I guess it's getting into … on of his harder periods. But I don't think …" she sighed and looked Jay in the eye. "I don't know, Jay. He doesn't talk to me about that kind of stuff in that way. I know … you can see it in him more in July."

"Yea …," Jay allowed. "I remember."

Erin let out a little breath and shook her head. "Last year was different. It was just … too much. All at once."

"Yea …," Jay allowed again but he gripped at her shoulder tighter and shifted on the bed so he was closer to her. His hand falling back to her waist again and holding her closer. "Just a little worried about how today is goin' to go. For everyone."

"It will be OK," she assured.

"You sure about that?" he asked her – giving her those deadly serious eyes.

Erin sighed. "It will be," she said. "We'll make sure it is."

"Oh," Jay nodded with clear annoyance. "So that's on us too?"

She gave him a firmer look. "Jay, he needed to be here. It was just going to make things harder for everyone if he wasn't."

"And you had to be the one to facilitate that? Because he wasn't man enough – again – to own up to his mistakes? The fact he's a fucking asshole?"

She glared. "Jay, Eth is more worried that it's me and Justin who are going to fight today than he is about his brother being there. So … just … please … let sleeping dogs lie."

"He's a fucking asshole," he put to her again, more firmly this time.

"OK," she agreed. "But Eth needed him here. And Hank just …" she sighed and looked at him with pleading eyes. "He just wants his kids … his family … to be alright. So—"

"So you end up standing there and taking the hits in this deal too," he put to her with such tone.

She sighed. "I guess it's my birthday present to Eth … and Father's Day to Hank," she shrugged.

Jay flared his nostrils and looked passed her, out the window. She knew he didn't like that she'd called Justin. That she'd told him that he should come. That Ethan needed him there. That his Dad did too. That she'd sucked it up. Dropped her pride. Just accepted that she wasn't going to get the apology she wanted. That Justin hadn't made the apologies to anyone that they deserved. But that if he didn't come home for Eth's birthday – more damage was going to be done. And that damage was going to be harder to fix. And she didn't want to be a factor in that. She didn't want to be the stalling point. So she'd dropped it. She'd stepped back – and away from it.

She'd decided to be the bigger person in the room. It seemed like she had to do that more than she liked sometimes. Especially when it came to Justin. But she was trying to listen to Hank on it. That Justin was still insecure. That he was struggling with his place in the family now that he had his own family and responsibilities and lived out of state. That he felt like he was being pushed out. That he was jealous. And that he was scared. And that he was taking it out on them – specifically her, and her relationship with Hank and her relationship with Ethan. To try to make her feel guilty about that.

The thing was she didn't feel guilty about it. She felt like Ethan – for as scary and as stressful his homecoming and health issues had been for the family – had been their saving grace. That their family had been in turmoil since Camille had been gone. That they'd just gone from crisis to crisis. That they'd been living in a permanent state of damage control and overwhelming stress. That they hadn't had time – or been allowed – to grieve. That they'd all been bouncing around different stages in their lives and transitions and trying to find their feet while their heads were spinning madly. And that it'd only been this past year – and the timing of it with everything else and then all that had happened in the past twelve months – that had finally started their family on their process of healing. That they were standing on their feet. And they were starting to move forward. They weren't just dashing from place to place anymore. They were living again. They were coping with their new normal – and they were finally starting to feel like a family again.

And, yeah, that – for her – was because her relationship with Hank had been strengthened … because of Bunny, because of Nadia, because of Ethan, because of him reaching into the hole and being her father and pulling her out. And it was because of the relationship she'd re-established with Eth. Her relationship where she wasn't just his older sister. She was his caretaker. She was invested in him. He was invested in her. He depended on her. And she loved him madly – in a way that she didn't quite understand. It actually kind of scared her. Because she looked at all the bullshit Hank had had to deal with as a husband and father and parent. And she looked at everything she was already dealing with with Eth. And she wondered why the hell she would want a husband, to be a mother or a parent. Because it all seemed like a whole lot of stress and heartbreak.

Expect that you got these people in your life. You got this conditional – yet unconditional – love and support. You had your own little heroes in your own backyard. You had people to be stable for and people to stabilize you.

And she wasn't going to apologize for finding that again in Hank and Ethan. For revisiting. For wanting it. For being a part of their daily lives. For them to feel like a family again. For Hank and Camille's house to feel like a home again. For her to have reason to go over there on her days off or after work again.

She didn't care that Justin was jealous he was missing out. He was missing out. But he also had the makings in place to have all those things on his own – to create those things for other people. And, now he was going to be back in Chicago – so he had a chance to establish that with them too. He couldn't fuck that up. And she wasn't going to be his excuse to fuck it up. She wasn't in a competition with her brothers for Hank's attention or affection. She wasn't that teenaged kid who thought she didn't really have a place in the family. She knew who she was and where her place was. She felt her value. She felt it every time Eth gave her a good or that look of thanks Hank gave her every time she dealt with her brother – getting him to an appointment, or picking him up from school, or managing his homework, or starting dinner – even though he didn't verbalize it often. She could tell. She could feel it. And she wasn't doing it because she felt like she owed it to him or because she thought she needed to do it to earn a place in the family. She did it because she was family. They were family. And she loved her little brother. She loved both of her brothers – even though Justin annoyed the hell out of her and hurt her feelings and pressed her buttons. And she loved Hank.

So if she needed to wave a white flag to fix this – she'd do it. She'd had to grit her teeth. She'd had to bite her tongue. She'd had to swallow a whole lot of pride. And she'd likely have to do it again that day. But she'd do it for Hank and Eth. And she did it for Justin too – because he deserved – he needed – his family just as much as the rest of them. And there were a lot of things that Justin just couldn't do for himself – even now as a grown man and a husband and father.

So she was the bigger person in the room. She'd be the bigger person in the room. And she needed Jay to do the same. To grin and bear it and bite his tongue and just get through the day. For her. For Hank. And for Ethan.

"It's a big fucking birthday present," Jay muttered.

She gripped at his elbow. "It needs to be your birthday present too," she said firmly.

Jay sighed at her but gave a little nod.

She hoped her could believe him – trust him – on this. Like she did so much.

The thing was she was going to have to trust Justin to keep up his end of the bargain too. To not fuck this up too.

She hoped that this time that wouldn't be too much to ask.


	95. Competition

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 94 - Sorry, Not Sorry.**

Jay grinned at Erin as she finally stopped the stubborn fight against her own personal gratification – and let herself feel it. Let not just her breathing and her squirming under him betray her. That intense look that she got on her face where he sometimes thought she was more likely to hit him – or at least bite him – than she was to let herself orgasm. The fight in her. The intensity. That he loved. That actually really turned him on. But sometimes scared him more than a bit. Because sometimes it was clear that it was about more than just intense sex. It was about more than fucking. Or primal urges taking over. Needs owning your body – while you fought with maintaining control. That fucking beautiful agony where you weren't sure if it hurt or if it was just uncomfortable or if it it was sweet estcasty. That you're body didn't know if you could take it. That something so good needed to feel so bad to feel so good. Fight the discomfort to feel that release. And you rode it out to get there. Because that release? It was something. Especially with her.

But she still fought against it. More times than not. Especially when they were like this – when he was out of the equation. When it was all about her. Because, he got, she mustn't have been used to it ever being about her. And she was used to protecting herself. He could see it in her. For all the walls they'd been chipping at, there were still ones that she still had built up. He did too. Things that were hard to drop.

And sometimes that made it hard. Because as beautiful as she was. As much as he loved doing this for her. Sometimes the look on her face. The way she fought against it – he wasn't really sure if he was bringing her pleasure or pain. He wasn't being rough. But the looks sometimes made him wonder if she was really enjoying it.

But as she let out that sound. That growl. That groan. That labored breath from deep inside. The way she arced her neck back and her squirming legs moved to heels pressed harder in the bed as she pushed her hips … her pelvis, her clit … even harder up against his hand. And he felt it. Felt her. The extra heat rushing around his fingers and her gripping at him. The steady contractions. Until finally she stilled like a rag doll on the mattress. Her neck relaxing. Her legs going limp and falling back into place. Her tilted pelvis settling back onto the bed. And her looking at him with that cheeky smile while her chest continued to rise and fall. So he leaned over and gave her a kiss. A long one. And she let him. Parting and breaking and joining and breaking again and again as they smiled at each other until finally she calmed enough to bringing her hand up and stroked at his stubble cheek while she looked at him. And it was in that moment – looking into those eyes in the aftermath – that he knew that he'd done OK. That she'd liked it. She'd enjoyed it. Even if there'd been moments in it that she'd been going through some sort of personal and biological and psychological struggle about whether she was going to let herself let go or not.

"You always look so proud of yourself when you do that," she said.

"You saying I shouldn't be?" he grinned cheekily at that and with a slow, purposeful movement, finally pulled his fingers out of her. Even more purposefully he moved them up her sex – trailing up her still wet and engorged lips – before tracing a circle over her sensitive clit. She made a little sound and twitched involuntarily under him – as way from his hand while jumping against it simultaneously. He pulled his hand out of her panties that they hadn't gotten around to pushing any further down – though her squirming had caused her tank to ride upward and he traced his moist fingers along her skin and around her navel before settling his hand on the opposite side of her, rubbing his thumb against her hip.

"Hmm …," she smiled coyly. "Who said I was done?"

He let out a little noise and smiled at her. Sometimes their sex life felt a little fucked up. Like they both had a little too much baggage. And then there were other times – where she could be fucking insatiable. But sometimes he could be too. Hydrate. Round two. Or three…

He just lifted his opposite hand above his head and stared at his watch face, though. He already knew it was getting way past the time they should be up and on the go – especially since they'd both been awake and just laying there for hours. It'd gone from dark to daylight in the room long ago.

"Don't you think we should be getting up?"

Erin just cocked her eyebrow at him and reached to pull sheets tangled around his waist. "Looks like you're already up," she provided.

He gave her a patronizing look at that crack. "Weren't we supposed to be going to pick up the sausage right as this place is opening?" She grinned at him even more with that immature glint in her eye. That eyebrow cocking even more. "You are not going to make a sausage joke," he said.

She shrugged and glanced down again, giving her head a little shake. "Not going to make a sausage joke."

He yanked the sheets a bit more back around him. As tempting as it was to take her up on her offer – they seriously didn't have time. Considering they'd promised Voight they'd hit up the sausage joint in the morning – before the place opened – so that the things were made and picked-up on clean machines that any of Eth's dietary restrictions hadn't travelled through or been ground into – they were already running late. Way late. He wasn't going to take the flak for that one.

"You took too long," he put to her.

She skewed her face at him. "I took to long?" she said. "Maybe you didn't do your job right."

He let out an amused sound. "My job?"

She shrugged. "Seems like my orgasm should be somewhere in the job description."

"Ah," he gave her a nod. "Pretty sure you're part of the equation and sometimes you're a non-cooperative witness."

"I think I was being pretty co-operative today," she said.

He shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe not co-operative enough – seeing as you took so long, you aren't going to fulfill your obligations in the job description."

"Ohhh …," she nodded. "My obligations in the job description."

"Sounds pretty awful when it's the guy directing it at the woman, doesn't it?"

She just rolled her eyes and let her arm flop back to above her head as she stared at the ceiling. He knew she was starting to contemplate getting up now – truly. Even though they both likely would've preferred to deal with other sausages – and stay in bed a little longer.

He leaned in and gave a kiss on her shoulder blade. She glanced at him. Her hand reaching down to run through his hair. He loved when she did that. Her nails against his scalp felt insanely relaxing. He sometimes let himself be in the submissive position on the couch while they were watching TV too. Him leaning against her rather than the other way around. Just so she'd do that. He'd almost take it over getting off. Or at least he would that morning. Because he didn't excel at quickies. They made him feel like shit and made him feel like he was treating her like some sort of vessel rather than his fiancée. He'd wait til later. Take a cold shower. They'd be back in bed that evening anyway and she'd likely pay him back for her O. Assuming he didn't fuck things up and punch Justin in the face at Eth's birthday.

"You sure you're OK?" she asked gently, gazing at him.

He gave her a little nod and planted another kiss on her cervical. "I'm good," he said. "Keep those thoughts for later."

She let out an amused sound and smiled a little more. "We cashing in on birthday sex on Ethan's behalf?" she teased.

He kissed her again while her fingers continued to thread through his hair. Her nails scraping against his scalp in little massaging movements. "I think that comment definitely took care of things for me," he said.

He could feel her smile without looking up at her. "I was thinking that maybe tomorrow we should go up to a couple more of those open houses at Landmark. If we like one, maybe have Hank swing by."

Jay set his chin on her shoulder and looked at her, her eyes slowly drifting away from the crown of his head to his eyes. "Don't you think he's going to want be visiting with Justin and Olive and Henry?"

She made a little sound. "It's a long drive. They'll likely end up leaving by lunch and from something Hank said, I'm pretty sure that Ethan's present is Cubs tickets for tomorrow. So they'll be up that way anyway."

Jay squinted at her. "What'd he say?"

She shrugged and ran her hand up his forehead, playing with his short bangs and any remnants of the day before's product that hadn't been washed out yet. "Just about wishing Justin gave him some notice."

"No fucking kidding," Jay muttered.

He'd wanted to say it more firmly but he say Erin's warning eyes. She didn't want this to turn into a thing. Not that Jay did either. But he also just knew that Voight's kid could be such a fucking ass. And watching him be an ass to Ethan was going to be hard. Him being an ass to Erin would be worse. Even after knowing what that year had looked like for Voight, seeing him be a dick to him would be hard. Jay got it. Voight wasn't exactly the perfect man or the perfect father. The guy would be a real fucking asshole. He had questionable morals. He lived in grey hours. He could be a pain in the ass as a person and as a boss. But for all the fuck ups he might've made – he'd also seen that Voight sure tried hard to be a father. That really fucking counted for something – especially considering Jay had some idea of the things Justin, Erin and Eth had putt he guy through. They weren't exactly cake walks in terms of raising kids and holding house in a family – but Voight hadn't fucking bailed. Still was trudging forward. And that fucking meant something as far as Jay was concerned. It deserved some respect. So he really didn't want to just have to stand idly by while Justin was a dick to his little brother, Erin or his dad. Even if Erin didn't want a scene.

"Why do you want Voight to come by?" he asked – because that was the first he'd heard that idea.

But Erin just shrugged again. "He's giving us a lot of money for the down payment, Jay," she said almost patronizingly.

He eyed her. "I don't think that's quite the way he sees it."

She sighed and gazed out the window of her bedroom. "I guess I want him to see the area."

"He knows the area," Jay said.

"He has his perspective on the area," she said more firmly and moved her eyes back to him. "But … I want him to see it through … us living there. Raising a family there. Eth being excited about spending time with us there. Not see it as … not 'the real Chicago.'"

Jay settled his chin back into her shoulder blade and looked up at her. "It's our place, Er. It doesn't matter what he thinks."

She sighed heavily at him and moved her eyes to the window again. "Maybe we should look closer to the Near West again," she said. "Ukrainian Village like you said. Bucktown."

Jay made a face and shook his head. "We aren't going to raise kids in Bucktown." She made a noise and he reached up to swipe back some of her sex messed, bed head, trailing his finger down her cheek. "Babe, we've got lots of time to look around. I know you liked the place in Landmark. Roscoe. I don't mind looking at other places up there. But I also don't think it's a bad thing for us to take our time and just … check things out. We don't need a place right now."

"I just feel like after Justin gets back into town everything is going to be a fucking competition," she said. "I want … to have our place bought before we even have to hear about where they're looking."

He gazed at her more firmly. "Erin, that's a shitty reason to rush this. Who the fuck cares where they end up?"

"I do," she mumbled.

He saw more and more that as much as she was secure in her relationship with Voight – sometimes she could be so fucking insecure about her place in the family. Even now. When even Jay could see she'd more than proven herself – as a family member, as a sister, as a daughter. When he'd seen multiple examples of Voight putting his ass on the line for her – and protecting her and letting her get away with shit that he just wouldn't do or tolerate from any of his other detectives. She wasn't just one of his detectives. She was his kid. And as much as they thought they kept that shit in perspective and in-check on the job – in a lot of the ways, they didn't. You didn't have to spend too long around the unit to read into what dynamic was going on between the two of them.

Jay hated, though, that Erin seemed to struggle with seeing her role and her value. Still. That insecurity in her. He got why it was there. Could understand. But it didn't make it any easier to look at. To hear. And often he didn't know what to say to her or how to make her realize she was being stupid. That she won out – always.

"They aren't going to be able to afford anywhere or anything too fancy with the housing subsidy and … I think he's bumped down to reservist pay while he's going through school," he stressed at her instead. "And even then … we aren't them. We should live wherever the fuck we want. What we think is best for us and our future. Not whatever the fuck they're doing for the next … three years."

She let out a slow breath and looked at him. "You don't know how Justin can be."

"Oh, I have a pretty good idea how Justin can be," he said with an edge of annoyance.

"I'm afraid he's going to make today into some kind of competition too," she mumbled.

Jay shrugged. "I get it, Erin. Eth wants his older brother to acknowledge his existence. Wants him to be there. I've been there. Done that. But, even with Justin there – we fucking win Erin. I don't see any scenario today where it's Justin and not us who win. We've been there for that kid all year. Justin's been an ass to him all year. I doesn't matter that he's showing up on his birthday. Just … fuck that."

Her hand ended up back in his hair. "I think maybe we should keep our present to give to him another day. In private."

"Why?" Jay demanded, propping himself up on his elbow.

"It will make Justin feel bad," she said. "He's going to take it some—"

Jay shook his head hard. "I don't fucking care how Justin takes it. Ethan will like it. We put a lot of fucking thought and effort into it."

Erin looked back to the window. "It just might turn into a thing."

"I'm not just handing the kid a fucking Rubik's cube, Erin," he said. "I would've gotten him something else if I knew you were going to back out of this."

"He'll like the Rubik's cube," she said.

He cocked his head at her. "Erin, this isn't what we talked about," he said. She just shook her head. So he sat up in the bed and looked down at her. "Erin, we can't live our life according to Justin and his bruised ego. We're here. We have a relationship with Ethan. With your dad. We shouldn't have to make any apologies for that. We make fucking sacrifices to have that."

"It's so weird when you call him my dad," she said under her breath.

"He is your dad," Jay pressed at her and she gave him an angry look. "He is. Just like Eth is your brother. And I fucking bought into that Erin. I went all in," he pressed at her and grabbed at her hand, jiggling the ring on her finger. "We're giving Ethan his birthday present and we're buying a house where we want to live with a room for Eth so he can come over when he wants. Because it's us he's going to fucking want to bunk down with when he's pissed at his dad. Not Justin and Olive."

She sighed and looked at him. "I just want today to be easy," she said.

He kept her eyes. "Then don't make it complicated. Listen to me. For once."


	96. In the Door

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 99 - Competition.**

Erin groaned as she tried to get the front dog open and Bear was right there to greet them. Only she suspected it wasn't really them that the dog was excited to see. He was acting like he'd caught a whiff of the sausages the second they'd gotten out of the vehicle and was in her face and trying to shove his head in the bag with the meat the moment she got the door open a crack.

"Bear! Get down," she demanded, pushing the not-so-small-anymore puppy away from her and out of the way while raising the bag of meat – and her other full hands that were teetering birthday gifts and other ordered errand pick-ups – above her head. Jay trying to grab some more of it from her before she dropped any of it – when he should be protecting his own haul from the mangy mutt.

"Bear!" Ethan called, coming down the hallway from the dining room.

He was looking rather bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for her baby brother at that time of morning. Though, he was still in his sleepwear and his spotty hair was looking even spottier than usual with the bed head he had going on. He hadn't pulled on his glasses yet so he was still squinting and he mustn't have put on his brace either because his crutches were hanging off his arms. Erin wouldn't exactly say he looked quite thirteen in the get-up. But he did look pretty cute. And he was clearly taking advantage of it being one of the few days a year that Hank would let him get away with being in his pajamas on the main floor and looking like he'd just rolled out of bed when it was pushing 9 a.m.

"Hey, Birthday Boy," she smiled at him.

"Erin," he near seeped with excitement, as he grabbed onto Bear's collar for her with one hand and gestured into the living room all smiles. "Look! I've got so many presents. It's crazy."

She and Jay were still working at kicking off their boots – because apparently no one was in any rush to come to the door and help them with their load of stuff. But apparently they both also knew better than to dare step passed the front fall with outdoor shoes on their feet – no matter the circumstances. Still, she leaned into the entrance to see what Ethan was on about.

She was a little surprised there were "so many presents" because Hank had his standards and routines. Being good to the kids, taking care of them, rewarding them a bit when he'd felt they'd earned something. Especially at the typical "events" of a given year – Christmas and birthdays. That was one thing. Spoiling them with "so many presents" was another. But the whole "so many presents" thing wasn't something she'd put past Justin. After all, it was a competition, right?

And it was kind of what she'd been worrying a bit about in the lead up to all of this. Hank's reaction to Justin's present – if her and Olive hadn't talked him out of it. Ethan's reaction to it. How anything she could get would really compare after that atomic bomb – whether it blew up in his face or not. And then, if her and Jay's joint gift would really just serve to make things more awkward in a completely different way than a PlayStation. Because maybe it would show they (hopefully) knew Ethan a little too well. And maybe that would just end up making Justin feel like shit. Which wasn't the objective but the more she thought about it, the more she suspected it might be the unintended outcome.

But, fuck, she hadn't even known until a couple days ago he was even going to be there. And Jay was right – they shouldn't have to measure how they shared their adult, couple, mentor relationship with her little brother against how Justin approached that. Justin could still just be the (not so) fun big brother. He wasn't there near daily dealing with the day-in, day-out of the age gap but that kid still being family. Your brother but not one you quite grew up with.

But when she looked into the front room, she wouldn't exactly say she saw "so many presents". She thought there were five sitting on the coffee table – which she supposed was more than the three she'd likely anticipated being there. But not exactly a mountain of opulence. Still, it'd be more than Ethan was ever used to getting in one sitting – even at Christmas. And she could see his excitement about that.

She actually felt a little stir of feeling like maybe it was too much, though. That it would be edging into the realm of "spoiled" that Hank hated – especially after she ended up adding their three to the pile, since her and Jay had both ended up buying a small thing for Ethan before they decided to go ahead with their joint idea.

"Dad got me two!" Ethan told her still beaming. "But he says one is from the dog, which is almost as dumb as the stupid Santa thing at Christmas."

"Mutt's in the room and can hear that," Erin heard Hank rasp from down the hall. "Might return it if you keep saying it."

Ethan huffed, casting a look down the hall and Erin's eyes followed to see Hank coming with Henry clutching at his fingers. It didn't really look like he wanted or needed the support. But he teetered with his steps without Popa and would flail for his hands again, Hank catching him each time in his rapid tottering toward her. She smiled more at that.

Hank had kept saying rather proudly after the Mother's Day visit that Henry was a "going concern" now – and a fast one. And a busy one. The kid just didn't stop moving and he was into everything!

Justin's short notice of a their arrival had set Hank into a bit of a frenzy with setting up the baby locks for every cupboard and doorknob in the house. If the weekend in May was an indication, they also served as teenager and grown-adult-woman locks. She'd had to call at Hank from upstairs to get him to come and explain to her how she could use the fucking toilet with the damn lock that she couldn't seem to get to pop no matter how hard she tried. He'd looked at her like she was the one with a fucking brain injury and like he might have to expel her from Intelligence since she couldn't unlatch a toilet cover. So she'd just glared at him and pretty much threatened to piss on his nice, clean bathroom floor if he didn't hurry up and help her. Not that that was too much of a threat, considering he had Ethan in the house now who didn't seem to be able to hit the toilet bowl ever. Though, that was likely why the bathroom seemed to be a constant on his chore chart. It was digusting in there. Even she'd lectured him on what his mom would be saying to him if he was leaving her bathroom looking that way every time he took a leak. He wasn't a little boy anymore – even if he did have urinary, muscle, tremor and bladder issues. Figure it out. Or at least clean up after yourself. But Hank had just smacked his annoyance at her while he popped the thing off in all of a split second and walked away.

Thankfully she wasn't the only one who wasn't completely retarded when it came to baby protection. Ethan had been groaning about the thing over the knob on the door to the basement too. And Hank had pulled everything off near every flat surface on the main floor. Ethan hadn't been able to find his Snap Circuits, TV remote or Xbox controllers and had been suitably unimpressed – with his dad and Henry. It'd resulted in some whining, some attitude and some barking type rasping from Hank about how he felt about his son's behavior and reactions to all of it.

Lovely weekend for all. Though, right now, Eth didn't look like he minded one bit that the main floor had been rearranged to accommodate there being a walking, screeching baby in the house. His eyes were all on the gifts and the glow coming off of him was more little boy enthusiasm than teenaged boy indifference. He looked more like Henry's happy face than that typical teenaged scowl. At least for the moment.

"One's from Henry too," Eth added. "So I guess having a nephew isn't so bad."

Jay made an amused noise at that and Erin gave him a glance and a small smile. She shook her head at Ethan. "You know, when you were born, the best feature you added to my life too, was that it meant an extra present at the holidays," she said sarcastically.

Ethan cast her a look and rolled his eyes. "Erin …"

Jay reached out and scuffed at his hair a bit. "See, you should want more nieces and nephews. More presents."

"Mmm," Eth thought about that for a second. "Maybe nephews. Not a niece."

Erin snorted some disgust. "Right. A niece would be awful," she muttered.

Ethan shrugged at her, giving her this twinkling eyes – that obnoxious teenager look - just gunning for a reaction. "Likely," he provided.

But before she could come up with some other snarky remark, Hank was reaching to take the bags out of her one hand and guide it to Henry instead.

"Switch," he muttered, gazing into the bag.

"Gene wouldn't let me give him any money," she said, as she accepted Henry's chubby little hand and gave him a wide-gaping silly face that induced a giggle out of him. She swung his arm in gently sing-song before putting back to Hank again, "So I hope you've got that sorted out."

He just grunted, which likely meant it was sorted but wasn't an agreement based on a cash exchange. So that likely meant she didn't really want to know what had been exchanged for these three-dozen special order sausages. Hank and his fucking favors.

She sure hoped at least in terms of District attendance, people showed. Otherwise, the Voight household was going to be eating sausage for a long, long time. She was pretty sure by the end of it Ethan's affinity for the things would've worn off and it would have to be removed from the list of the very few things he'd eat without protest most days.

"Where's the rest of it?" he muttered again after rooting through the bag.

She gestured at Jay, who held up the sopping bag. "He put the sauerkraut and pickles in bags," she said, scrunching up her nose. "I'm pretty sure they're leaking. All over my backseat."

Hank just gave her a glance. "You've got a trunk."

"Thank you, Hank," she said, cocking her eyebrow at him. "That's helpful. I'm sure that will get the smell out of my car."

He shrugged. "Wouldn't have been a problem if you put them there in the first place." She glared at him but his eyes were still set on Jay's out held hand. He clearly wanted to be relieved of that bag duty, lest he be the one accused of stinking up the house with the fermented liquid dripping out of the plastic bag. "Didn't give you one of those coolers?"

"No," Erin said flatly.

She shifted her eyes back to her adorable little nephew because Hank's processing of the food situation was starting to annoy her. But he got like this when it came to food and meal prep. Add in a grill and entertaining and he was pretty much incorrigible. It'd be better after they got to the park. Then just park him front of the grill and pretty much give him the usual very wide breadth. Let him enter work mode – or grill mode, in this case. And, just stay the hell out of his way until he rang the dinner bell. That pretty much seemed to be how these things worked. And, she'd pretty much

But Hank clearly was grunting some displeasure about the lack of cooler. She could guess why. He had enough food to feed the District – literally – and it wasn't exactly a cool day out to have all that sitting outside for the afternoon. If he'd just pulled out the battered camp cooler that he and Camille had likely had since about 1988, there wasn't any way he was fitting everything into it. No matter how good Hank was at packing and organizing.

"Can I have a pickle now?" Ethan asked – taking more interest in the dripping bag in Jay's hand than Hank was.

"No," Hank answered instantly. "Making you breakfast. That's for the barbecue. Get outta there."

Ethan gave him an unimpressed look. That was definitely a teen-aged look and not a cute little boy look. But Hank acted like he hadn't even caught it. He was more likely purposely ignoring it.

"You get the other things?" he directed at her again.

She nodded, briefly freeing her hand from Henry's grip – though she was afraid he'd be off and running the second she did that. She put her hand into the gift bag in her opposite hand, pulling out the long plastic bag covering the plastic sundae cups shaped like ball caps. Ethan's eyes went wide.

"Wait!" he near screeched, the teenager mask dropping again for a moment.

He near bolted forward trying to snatch the collection out of her hand, but Hank quickly grabbed it, letting Erin return her attention to Henry, who'd already managed to find the gate (which was also impossible to open as far as she was concerned but she was thankfully nimble enough to step over – Ethan was a different story, giving a whole new dimension to the not having a bathroom on the main floor thing when Henry was over for a visit) blocking his want to go up the stairs. He shook at the gate like it was a prison and let out a cry to demonstrate his displeasure about that. She didn't blame him.

"Is that the whole collection?" Ethan asked exasperatedly, gazing hopefully at his Dad. "It's a birthday present, right? To finish my collection?"

Every summer Hank took them over to the one of the local ice cream stands. For as long as Erin could remember. There'd be a handful of trips each season. One of the many small ways Hank created family time and memories with his kids. Stopped working and spent some time with them. Talked to them over a cone or a sundae while they sat on top of picnic tables. That had been special enough for Erin. Something that felt so … normal. Like what a family should be doing. Like what a dad did. But after Ethan was around and his obsession with collecting became clear – it seemed like trips were more about getting the specialty sundae bowls than it was just about the ice cream. She actually suspected it was more a fascination with those baseball cap bowls that had driven him to baseball than an interest in the actual sport when he was just a little boy.

They hadn't gotten over there too many times over recent years. Not since Camille was gone. Maybe once a summer. But then even last summer when there was more opportunity to take him that had fallen off the rails with his diagnosis and the start of seeing various doctors and specialists and nutritionists and dieticians who'd recommended they avoid diary and the inflammation it could bring to his body. So there hadn't been a whole lot of a point in heading out for ice cream. So his collection of little plastic baseball caps lining a shelf in his bedroom had been pretty stagnated.

"Not a birthday present," Hank grunted. "Ice cream cups. For the barbecue."

"But … but …," Eth stumbled. "I can have them after, right?"

"Mmm …," Hank said and started to walk away, gesturing at Jay to bring the dripping mess with him. "Maybe one. If you get a sundae."

Eth glared at his back. "But I can't have ice cream," he said with a slightly raised voice.

Hank just shrugged. "Can't you?"

Eth stared at him some more. Processing that. "Did you find me ice cream I can have, Dad?" he called after him, moving slightly in the direction of his dad. Erin smiled a bit at it. Because she knew how her baby brother felt about his ice cream. It was one of the few things he actually lamented missing on his diet – regularly. And she knew what the answer was to his question. And she knew how Hank was. As rough and tumble as he was – he was a good man. A good dad. He was the kind of guy who would figure out where to get his son diary free, sugar free, gluten free, soy free ice cream. If it could be called that. "Dad … did you?" Ethan asked again.

But Hank just gave another grunt, not even looking. So Erin gave her brother a reassuring smile and his shoulder a little squeeze. She held out the gift bag that she had left in her hand to him.

"Go add that to your pile of presents," she said.

He looked at her a little sullenly but gazed at the bag. He contemplated it but took it and started to go into the front room. She could see him trying to look through the tissue paper at its contents inside. He wouldn't see much beyond the three little wrapped gifts. So he shook the bag slightly, clearly trying to get a weight and feel of it. But she let him – not chastising him about shaking presents like she would've at Christmas. Let him have his fun on his birthday.

Erin bent and scooped up Henry in her arms, hugging him tight and shaking him, giving him some puffy, silly kisses that made him giggle after his initial shriek of displeasure at her taking him off his own two feet. She bounced him a bit in her arms as she finally went down the hall, trailing well after Hank and Jay's route to the kitchen.

She stopped as she got into the dining room, though. Justin and Olive were sitting at the table. Far too quietly. Olive gave her one of those thin, nervous smiles she seemed to excel at and Justin just gazed at her – near steely. But she tried to not return the look. Instead she gave him the best she could manage at a smile.

"Hi," she offered.

"Hey," he said.

She rocked Henry slightly, waving her body from side-to-side where he was resting just above her hips. "He's getting so big," she smiled a bit more genuinely and looked at her little nephew. "Seeing more and more of you in him."

"Mmm …," Justin allowed and looked away – casting Olive a look like that was some kind of debate they had regularly.

But Henry really was at the point where it seemed like every time she saw him he looked so different. Even in the four weeks since she saw him last. His ginger locks were starting to darken a bit already. He was likely going to be more what Jay called "auburn" rather than the flaming red curls of his mom. And his complexion was darkening too. He wasn't as fair and pale. She could see more of Camille and Justin's lineage in there – that Italian hue starting to fight its way to the surface. He had Justin's ears too. She'd pinpointed that on the last trip.

"Pop banned us from the kitchen," Justin said to her, though, almost like it was defensive.

Erin just shrugged. "You'd think he owned the place or something," she muttered as she stroked at her nephews cheek. He seemed like he was tired. "How was the drive?"

"Long," Justin provided.

She gave a little nod and caught his eyes again. "When'd you get it?"

Justin scrubbed at his face briefly – so much like his dad did. "'Bout nine thirty."

Erin nodded at that. "Made good time," she said. Because at least it was something. Small talk. They weren't biting off each other's heads. Even though this felt strained.

"E was already asleep," he provided.

She nodded and moved to hand Henry off to Olive, but she started to ready the high chair, and she stopped to wait and let the other woman do that.

"Yea, he tends to bunk down by about eight most nights," she allowed.

"Pop said he'd had to take pain killers or something. Knocked him out," Justin said and gazed at her with some clear concern.

"Mmm …," she allowed and glanced through the entranceway into the front room. Eth had become distracted by something on his phone. Typical teenager. But lucky that Hank hadn't spotted that yet. Even on his birthday, he'd be grabbing it away from him and giving him a no-holds-barred lecture about rights and privileges that went along with that phone. One of them being timing of usage. When you're in the house with family visiting you wouldn't be on the list of times having it out was an acceptable usage in Hank's mind. Likely rightly. She figured, though, he was likely just doing something with one of his baseball apps. The Cubs were playing that day after all. But she almost feared he was doing something stupid like posting Instagrams or tweets of his presents to try to do some sort of keeping up with the Jones with the idiots at school. Only she knew that was so far out of Eth's reach – even if he did have quite the pile of presents sitting there waiting for him. "He looks OK to me this morning …"

She shifted her eyes back to Justin but his seemed full of questions that she hadn't really seen there before. She wondered what Hank had said - or if Ethan had said or done something – because Justin had known Eth was on pain killers and hadn't said much of anything about it before. But having some sort of Q&A session right then with Eth in the next room and just before his party was kind of beyond bad timing – which was something J seemed to excel at. But she wasn't going to bite. So she just handed H to Olive so she could get him settled into the high chair.

She could hear Jay asking Hank about if he should go out and buy another cooler or some ice. Sounded like he already was looking for an escape route. But Voight sounded distracted. She could hear him rasping away – to someone who wasn't Jay. It took her a moment to realize that he was on the phone. He must've hung up because he'd then put to Jay that Alvin had a cooler they could use.

"Do a run after breakfast. Grab it and some ice," he'd said and then appeared in the doorway. "You guys eat yet, Kiddo?" he asked her – because apparently it wasn't something he cared to know Jay's answer to.

She shrugged. "Yogurt. Cereal."

He made an unimpressed grunt at her and gestured at the chair, leaning farther to see Ethan in the front room. Unfortunately he was still on his phone.

"That thing does in my desk drawer and your rear-end parks itself at the table," Hank barked at him, gesturing with the spatula into the dining room.

Eth glanced up and sighed exasperatedly. "Dad …"

"Now," Hank put even more firmly.

E made a bit of a production of dropping the phone to his side and clattering into the den, all the while mumbling about not being hungry. But apparently he wasn't going to challenge his dad any farther on it beyond giving the lip – which Hank decided to ignore. Likely another small birthday gift to Ethan. But Erin also knew he shouldn't push it too far. His dad only tolerated so much. It wouldn't matter what day of the year it was.

She brushed at his bed head as he sat next to her but he jerked away, giving her that "I'm a big boy now" look again. Teenager in full force.

"You feeling alright?" she asked gently, though her eyes warned him not to test her bounds too much either.

He shrugged. But now that he was sitting still she observed him a bit more closely. His hands no longer gripping his phone or grabbed around the braces of his crutches, she could see that his tremor was more pronounced than it was most days in the mornings. And, she knew that the tremor often really showed itself when he was in some pain. Or he was overheating. Or he hadn't gotten enough protein. So even though he'd jerked away from her, she brushed at his hair again, running her hand across his forehead more purposely that time. It felt warm but not feverish.

"It's warm out today," she said to him. He just shrugged again. She tugged at the hem of his thermal sleep shirt. "You cold?" Another shrug. "Are you too hot?" she put to him more directly and reached to briefly squeeze his hand that was hopping in his lap, so he knew she saw it without drawing extra attention to it.

"I'm keeping my muscles warm," he muttered at her and drew his hand protectively away from her. "For baseball today." But she eyed the way his fingers were curved. That morning claw he got some days that took a while to let up. A flare of inflammation in his joints. An autoimmune reaction. One that she knew heat often helped give him some relief – even now that they were entering the warm days of a Chicago summer.

So she leaned a bit closer to him, even though she was sure they were both aware that Justin and Olive were watching at that point. "You're still hurting," she said quietly. He cast her side-eye. "Do you want to take something?"

"No," he said firmly. "It will make me all stoned."

She gave his shoulder a little squeeze. "We'll take the easy one," she said. "Sometimes it helps, right?"

He flared his nostrils a bit but didn't protest. So she cast Justin a glance at his continued examination of them and then looked into the kitchen.

"Hank," she called and he appeared. "Vimovo," she said and held up her hand with the slight clef in it. He gazed at her and then his son and then disappeared back into the kitchen.

It was Jay who appeared a minute later. A pan of pancakes in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other. He put the pancakes in the center of the table and handed her the bottle, as he pulled up the chair across from her and set himself down. The table felt strangely full with all of them around it. In a way it hadn't felt in a long while.

She popped open the pill bottle and slipped one of the tablets into Eth's hand, nudging the water glass closer to him and watching as he took it without further argument. Hank appeared and eyed Ethan as he did too with some concern creasing over his brow. Their gaze met briefly.

Still, he set his own plate and a bottle of pure syrup in the middle of the table – next to the spread of fresh fruit and berries that had clearly been picked at already.

"Canadian bacon," he said flatly, and pulled up his own seat, giving the table a glance. All of them there.

Hank gestured again at the food. "Dig in," he commanded, and reached to retrieve a banana pancake on his own, flopping it onto Henry's tray of his own accord and starting to cut it up. "Let's see what you think of this, Big Guy. Your Uncle Jay's recipe. Earned big points with your Uncle Ethan lately."

Erin cast Hank a little look at that but he wasn't bothering to catch her eyes. They were all for Henry at the moment. So instead she caught Jay's eyes. They were looking at her just as questioningly – and possibly as tad uncomfortably – as J's had been moments ago.

But she felt like she should be looking at Hank and her nephew. And, there Erin saw a little smile tug quietly at Hank's lips. She knew he liked that – when he had all his kids … his family … in the same room. And it never really happened as often as it should anymore. Maybe it really should be happening more. Actually, there wasn't much of a maybe about it.

So she reached to retrieve a pancake of her own accord, depositing it on her baby brother's plate and starting with the same quiet cutting motions as Hank was doing with Henry. Saving E from the embarrassment of trying to manage a knife in that moment. And just letting all of them be in the moment and be with their family. Without making a big deal out of it. Because that's the way it should be. So that's the way it would be.

For now.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Just have to not so humbly brag briefly … totally called the Hank/Camille stillborn and it being a girl thing.**


	97. Watching the Time

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 96 - In the Door.**

With the clicking sound of a velociraptor and its growl filling the room, Erin watched as Ethan's eyes moved from what he was doing and darted accusingly at his little nephew, who was excitedly rocking next to him as Eth worked at opening his present and likely hoping it was another thing he could chew on or would make even more noise.

"HENRY," Ethan said sternly. "Stop pushing the button! You're going to kill the batteries."

Henry just gazed at him, briefly holding out the dinosaur he'd given his uncle and then apparently thinking better of it and shoving the foot of the toy in his mouth and gnawing at it.

"Eww! You're so gross," Eth groaned and reached to try to pull it away from his nephew – or at least free of his slobber. But H shrieked at the intrusion.

Erin leaned forward and batted Ethan's hands away from the little spat. "He just wants to play with you," she told her brother.

Ethan didn't listen and grabbed the dinosaur away – holding it by its tail as he settled it on the end table between the two armchairs in the front room. "I don't want him to slobber on Blue. I like her," Ethan said firmly but Henry was already turning red and letting out his fake-upset cries while he made his lip quiver and pushed to start the water works, toddling unsteadily toward the table to try to get the toy back. "No!" Ethan barked and put up his hand into his nephew's chest.

"HEY!" Justin barked but then seemed to manage to calm himself as Ethan gave him a startled look at the raised voice.

But it was enough for Erin to really cast Olive a look at that and saw that she was weighing how to handle it. So Erin intervened on her behalf. She didn't care about telling Eth off. She did it on a near daily basis. But Olive was likely scared of upsetting Hank. Or Justin. Erin knew, though, that Hank would be interjecting if the forward hand so much as resulted in little H losing his balance and plopping to the ground. And pissing off Popa wasn't a good idea for anyone. Nor was getting Justin into a state – because so far they were almost managing to act … normal.

"Ethan," Erin pressed at him. "He's not a dog. He's your nephew," she said, and shifted out of her spot in the one armchair and onto the floor, briefly meeting Jay's eyes as she slid between the two apparently feuding babies.

She was seriously having flashbacks to Justin and Ethan as a baby in the midst of it. Justin had not done well with adjusting to having a little brother who was walking and starting to try to communicate and interact and want to play either. And, Justin had been about the same age as Eth. A couple years younger.

There'd been some major adjustment to not being the baby in the family anymore and having to share toys and having a little person who wanted to play and follow after you. Apparently it was part of the circle of life. Or Justin had unknowingly taught his little brother exactly how to react to having a little nephew now.

Mirror, mirror on the wall … we are our family after all. It was a hard pill to swallow. Nature versus nurture. Sometimes the Voight household felt like the ultimate Petri dish in all that as they lived their lives on repeat. Boomeranging back to past scenarios – only know with slightly different players at the previous level.

"He can play with this one," Ethan said, as Erin rubbed at Henry's little stomach in an attempt to quiet the wailing protests.

Her brother held out the ankylosaurus that he'd also received from Henry. The one that Erin suspected was likely only bought because Henry had slobbered on it in the store and Olive was too nice to feel right about putting it back on the shelf even though Erin had told her it was Blue the Raptor that Ethan really wanted out of the set. So he'd been spoiled and gotten both.

"Look it's tail bashes," Ethan said, pressing at the button on that toy to make the throny appendage swing around. "It's just as good as Blue."

Henry gazed at the movements and started to reach out to retrieve that toy but wasn't fast enough because apparently the moving toy had attracted Bear's attention. He suddenly ramped his head into the mix, really knocking Henry backwards into Erin's chest and latching his mouth around the toy.

"BEAR! NO!" Ethan shrieked nearly as hard as Henry let out his cry of shock.

Ethan pushed Bear away but the dog thought he was just being told to sit and plopped next to the three of them – gazing expectantly at the ankylosaurus, like Ethan was going to throw it across the room for him to retrieve and gnaw on any second.

"Great," Ethan huffed. "Now he's going to wreck this one too. Just like Indominus."

Erin rolled her eyes, as she helped H find his feet again. "Indominus is fine," she provided.

Though, they'd all learned the hard way that the toy had to be kept well off the floor because it apparently did have a similar texture and taste to a chew toy in Bear's opinion. They're been more than one slobber incident at that point. And there were definite visible teeth marks. Thankfully the dog hadn't chewed through the flesh yet – because Erin was actually pretty sure there'd be tears out of a now thirteen-year-old boy if (and when) that did happen. She almost felt like her and Hank should be on that little kid toddler alert where you had a second toy available for the inevitable situation where the favorite possession did get lost or destroyed and the kid acted like it was the harbinger of the apocalypse. But that wasn't really Hank's style. You were responsible for caring for and taking care of – and not losing – your own belongings. If you did – it wasn't his problem. But he would likely give you a long commentary about responsibilities and privileges in the midst of it all.

But Ethan had stopped listening – shifting his attention back to his work at picking at the wrapping paper. H's eyes, though, had shifted directly to Bear and he scrambled roughly away from her – pressing his hand and full weight way more harshly into her breast in the process. He was a strong little kid and he throw his weight around well. He'd caught her off-guard a couple times already that morning with the sheer velocity of the impact when he threw himself at you or crawled all over you or grabbed at your hair or necklace or arm … or smack on your breast.

Now he was headed smack for Bear and his hands really did smack – whapping at the dog – who gave him a clearly unimpressed look before panting at him a little forgivingly before nudging him with his snot. Henry didn't take the hint, though, and whacked at him again, letting out some little shrieks of joy at getting to pet the dog.

"Gently," Erin said and took a hold of his little hand and helped him stroke at the overly understanding puppy. They were lucky that the dog seemed to be attuned to kids and used to some rough-and-tumble play from little boys. He was a nice dog, even if he lacked some manners. "See," she encouraged. "Bear likes gentle."

She let go of his hand and Henry gave her a gaping grin before smacking at Bear again. She rolled her eyes a little and shook her head. Justin and Olive were in so much trouble. She hoped they realized that this kind of bullshit didn't change with Voight males. They just got older and bigger – and more purposely defiant of authority. No matter how much sense what you were suggesting to them made.

Hank must've caught her look, though, even though it'd been more directed at Jay – because he let out a little noise and leaned forward from the chair he'd pulled into the front room from the dining room. They were definitely already starting to lack in space when they were all together and as the family started to grow. But she suspected Hank liked it that way. Though, she also suspected it might make him a little sad. A full house – especially one filling up with grown kids and now grandkids – would have him thinking about Camille and what she was missing. Things she'd wanted and dreamed about. Erin was sure of it.

"E give me the weird looking dinosaur," he rasped.

"It's an ankylosaurus," Ethan had said without even looking up from his gift opening efforts.

Hank made his own discrete, slight eye roll and gestured at her instead to hand it to him. She did and he waved it at Henry. Which really caught Bear's attention and he got up to move over to Hank instead, who did one of his training maneuvers to get the dog to sit down next to him and settle.

"Come over to Popa," he said. "I'll play with you."

Henry gazed between the dog and Popa and the toy for a moment but then took a cautious step forward. He made it about two steps before he lost his footing and fell forward. But he was WAAAAAY faster crawling than he was walking yet. At least for the moment. And he was then over to Hank in a split second.

Hank's whole face changed every time the baby paid any attention to him. He just glowed. Smiled in a way that Erin really hadn't seen out of him since Camille was gone. It was the kind of smile that couldn't be faked. The kind where he likely didn't even realize he was smiling quite that way. But it wasn't the same look that her or Justin or Eth managed to illicit from him on the rare occasions he did crack a grin. This was something different. It just seeped of him. It was like he was emitting pure joy. It was something she'd never really seen in Hank before.

She hoped Justin was seeing it too. Or Olive was and telling Justin it was there. Because it was exactly that kind of look that just reaffirmed to her how much her and Justin just needed to … deal. That Justin needed to fix things for the better with Ethan. That he needed to apologize to his dad … for everything. That they just needed to be a family – especially if Justin was going to be home for at least three years come the fall. Especially if her and Jay were getting married. Especially if Justin and Olive or her and Jay would be adding more grandkids to the family. Because how could you not want to when you saw what it was doing to Hank? What it was bringing out in him? How happy he seemed? He deserved that.

Henry grabbed at Popa's jeans and hauled himself up while Hank lumbered the dinosaur across his thigh to his knee.

"There you go, H," he said. "Get the porcupine dinosaur."

"Ankylosaurus," Ethan pressed out firmly again, still without looking up from his slow picking of the wrapping paper.

"Mmm …," Hank grunted. "We don't want to say that big, long word too many times fast, do we, Henry?" he teased. The little boy reached and tugged the dinosaur out of Hank's hand. He let him take it and it immediately went into H's mouth again. "Uh-oh. We aren't going to have another dino-nut in the family, are we?"

Ethan glanced up at that and examined the scene, letting out a little sigh. "Dad, don't let him eat it," he whined.

Hank just shrugged. "He's not hurting it," he said flatly and reached to smooth down some of Henry's messy wisps of hair before rubbing at his little ear in a way Erin had seen him do a few times now – both in May and that morning. It made her suspect that he'd noticed how much they looked like Justin's too. Or made him think of his oldest son when he was just a little boy too. Or he was just a baby person, which Erin already knew to be more than true. It didn't surprise her anymore but she saw Hank in a different light than most people and knew him in a different way. Jay still expressed regularly how weird it was to see Hank when he was just being dad with Eth – let alone when he was being grandpa to H. "But it does mean Popa doesn't have a toy to play with now."

"Pop," Justin called and Hank looked in his direction to see him holding out a little dump truck VTech vehicle. Olive took it and passed it to Hank.

"Ooooh …," Hank said, wagging it at Henry, who gazed inquisitively while still gnawing on the tail of the dinosaur. "Look what I've got."

Hank pushed the big button on the windshield and the toy declared happily, "I'm David. This is my dump truck." It then proceeded to sing a little, annoying song about how he worked all day and all night, taking his load to-and-fro. It'd been played enough times that everyone in the house had picked up on the lyrics and even Jay had commented that David really needed to talk to his union rep about his working conditions.

"Not again!" Ethan moaned and cast a look at his dad while Popa handed the second toy to his grandson, who was letting out demanding grunts to be given his favorite possession. "Can't you turn it off?"

Erin nudged Ethan. "Can we turn off Indominus' and Blue's growls and roars? Because I'm pretty sick of them too."

Ethan gave her a brief glare. "No," he said in monotone. But she'd already known the answer. The noises of the toys were as much of a selling feature at Ethan's age as they were at Henry's.

But Henry definitely needed some entertainment and distraction, if Ethan didn't want him helping with the present opening. Because it was going slowly. His dominant hand was still tremoring badly. It was actually hopping worse than before but that was likely because Hank had sent him up to get cleaned up and dressed before they did his presents. The heat of the shower always seemed to bring out tremor even worse in her little brother and for the hour or two after, it'd often mean his whole arm was shaking from the elbow down. Sometimes even she found it a little hard to watch. But she could really see Justin staring at it. Badly. She could tell he was measuring Ethan's appearance with the glasses too. It'd be the first time he was seeing him in them – strapped to his head in the wake of his near non-existent ear.

He'd made a comment to her too about the sudden disappearance of Eth's crutches when he'd come back downstairs. She'd tried to flatly – and quietly – explain to him that when his arm was tremoring that much the brace on his leg seemed easier. Justin had commented about why he didn't always use the brace, if it meant he didn't have the mark of a cripple with the crutches. She'd given him a dirty look at that. But she thought he figured out the answer on his own. The brace kept Eth's foot in place so it wasn't dragging and he wasn't tripping over it. But it didn't let him move it in a way that looked anything like natural movements. He was sitting on the floor and crawling around opening his presents and interacting with the dog and Henry at their level like the leg was near dead-weight. The brace was a mixed blessing. There were many reasons they had both the brace and the crutches in the hosue. Eth used them in different scenarios. They each served their own purposes.

But the good news was that with Hank sending him up to get ready as soon as he was done his breakfast, that hopefully the worst of the day's tremors would've died down by the time they got over to the baseball diamond. That was likely Hank's plan. And, Erin could see between the heat of the shower and the pill at the breakfast table, at least Eth wasn't clutching his fist as tightly like he was in pain. Though, she was still watching his movements carefully. She could tell Hank was too. Really everyone in the room was. But with different levels of intensity and interest – and likely for different reasons.

He was doing OK, though. Erin could tell he was enjoying himself. He was liking getting to open gifts – even if Henry was wanting to help him a bit more than Eth wanted. He'd ripped the bow off one present before Ethan could and had ripped chunks out of the paper as he tried to get what turned out to be a sleeping bag.

Erin had known that Hank had told Olive to get Ethan that when she'd asked for a suggestion from him. After he'd offered up his usual $10-20 gift ideas, which usually consisted of books, gift cards or baseball cards. But apparently he'd been told she thought Justin wanted to get him something a bit bigger than that. Erin could imagine the look on Hank's face for that statement. But she also thought ultimately giving the idea of a sleeping bag was so Hank. If you're going to spend more money than you should – at least spend it on something that's needed and practical.

Though, it'd been a funny conversation when he'd randomly said to her, "You weren't planning on getting Magoo a sleeping bag for his birthday were you?"

She'd looked at him like he'd gone stupid on her. "Why would I get Eth a sleeping bag for his birthday?" Because – really – why would she?

But Hank had just smacked at the look she was giving him. "Well, don't go getting him one."

At the time she'd thought that that had been Hank's big brainwave for Eth's thirteenth. A little lame – but again, very Hank. But apparently he'd let someone else do the honors.

And even though it wasn't really something she would've considered getting for Ethan, it was actually really nice. "Cub colors", Ethan had pointed out of the blue color and then the red, white and blue flannel interior. It definitely looked thicker and warmer than anything that Hank kept out in the back shed or the basement with the family camping gear, which likely dated back to at least the '80s.

Eth had actually been suitably excited about it – because it apparently now served as clear indication that his dad HAD to take him camping that summer. Though, Hank had been sure to stress to Ethan – well looking at Olive – how good it'd be on his bed. That hopefully it'd help him keep warm. Erin didn't know much of anything about camping – and even less about sleeping bags – but Hank seemed surprised by the brand and pleased with the quality, which made her suspect that Olive might've picked out something that was even more than what he thought he was suggesting at the time. But everyone was appreciative. So that was good – and it wasn't a PlayStation.

There had been an Xbox game, though. Some racing game – that was clearly from Justin, who didn't seem nearly as excited about the sleeping bag as a gift as Ethan or Hank. Hank didn't look that impressed about Eth getting a videogame when they were leading into summer vacation and he was a big proponent of getting your ass outside. But E had been happy enough about it. Unfortunately he'd expressed that enthusiasm more to Jay than to Justin and Erin could see he'd been unhappy about that. But she didn't know what Justin expected? She supposed for him to pull off the plastic and want to play it with him right then and there. Instead, though, he'd taken the case over to Jay to talk about the game and the cars in it and which ones they should race first. Jay had to rather non-discretely nudge Ethan into going and talking to his brother about it. So E had gone and sat awkwardly on the couch next to Justin and stared at the case and accompanying booklet for a couple minutes before asking if he could just open the next gift. Erin almost felt bad because she suspected if it was a present from anyone else, Eth actually would've been gunning to have the disc in the game console and wanting to play with the gift-giver right then. Not that Hank would've allowed that. They were definitely on a schedule that morning. But still.

Instead she'd tried to diffuse the situation by letting him open the gift from her. A tshirt with a knock-off of the Abbey Road album cover – only rather than The Beatles crossing the walkway, it was the four raptors from Jurassic World. She'd gotten the reaction from her baby brother that she'd hoped. He'd loved it.

"It's like The Beatles, Dad," he'd informed Hank a little too smartly. "Abbey Road."

"Cute that he thinks he has to explain that to me," Hank had muttered.

"Well, you're old," Eth said.

Hank had tossed the shirt back at his son from his examination of it. "So are The Beatles."

"They're retro," he'd said. "You're just old."

"Mmm," Hank had grunted, clearly even more unimpressed. So Erin had given her brother a little kick, even though his commentary had caused her to smile.

There'd been another moment of awkwardness when Ethan had opened the Rubik's Cube from Jay. It'd been another item Eth had been happy to receive. But Hank had made a passing comment about E's therapists using it to help with his dexterity, spatial perception, concentration and problem solving. Basically it was a Hank approved gift. And Justin had noticed that – casting his dad, her and Jay a look. And it wasn't an impressed one.

It'd become even less impressed when Jay had simply replied to Hank's statement with, "Yea, I know." Because he did. Because they were there. Because Erin took Eth to his therapy appointment at least forty per cent of the time. Because she had days where she was frustrated or annoyed or trying to figure out how to make things easier on herself, Hank and her brother – and that often meant venting at Jay. So he knew. He knew a lot of it better than Justin.

But that had only been further exemplified when E had proudly declared that he'd learned to make a computer program to solve the cube and so he knew he could program a robot to do it too. And that was something both Mouse and E had basically talked about the last half of the Robotics season. Endlessly.

So Jay had put to him, "I know you think you can."

"I know I can," Ethan had said.

"Well, that's why I got it for you," Jay said. "I want you to prove it to me. First I want to see you solve it yourself and then I want to see you make this robot that can solve the thing."

"I will," Ethan had said somewhat defiantly in the face of the challenge.

Jay shrugged. "OK. Do it. Before the end of summer vacation," he upped the ante.

Eth examined him. "What do I get if I do it?"

Jay had snorted at him. Ethan only knew part of the story about the Rubik's Cube and the robot assignment that Jay was giving him. The other part of the story was that Jay had rather annoyedily informed her that he was pretty sick of listening to Ethan whine about his dad not sending him to the $1,200 robotics camp at the university.

"What planet is he fucking living on that he thinks that's going to happen? And that whining incessantly about it will make it happen?"

Erin had just cocked an eyebrow at him and shrugged at the time. Because she knew that both her and Jay knew exactly what it was like to be one of the poor kids amongst the rich kids at high school. What it was like to try to keep up or at least keep up appearances. And what an impossible endeavor it was – so you just became a mark. Thing was that E was already a mark – badly. And the only little niche he'd found for himself at Iggy's so far was the Robotics. Now he was hearing that "everyone" was going to one of these ridiculously priced week-long camps. And he felt like "everyone" going to them would put his spot on the team in jeopardy because he wouldn't have the same skills or experience as those who attended the camp.

And Erin could see his point. But she could also see Hank's. Twelve-hundred dollars for a week-long camp was a lot of money. Yet, she knew that Ethan having latched onto this and wanting it would be bothering Hank. Because he wasn't asking for something he'd deem as stupid or a waste of money. It was something that was education. It was something that'd give him future opportunities and build his skill sets and likely make him feel good about himself. But that wasn't the kind of cash the family really had. Especially anymore. Especially with Camille gone and Ethan hurt and boarding school and legal fees and now Eth's endless therapies and health care and medication needs.

Erin had tried to tell Hank she could help pay for it – but he'd shut her down as soon as he'd suspected the direction of the conversation. So she'd tried to say he should take the money out of what he'd put aside in Camille's life insurance for her. But he'd again said that that was her money – not Ethan's. So she'd tried to argue then that maybe he could use some of Ethan's share of the inheritance to finance the summer camp. But he'd even more firmly told her that that wasn't the money was for. That it was for his kid's university education or them making-house, whichever came first. It was a line in the sand that he wasn't willing to cross and clearly wasn't willing to discuss further.

There wasn't money for robotics summer camp. End of discussion.

So Jay had talked to Mouse and devised this assignment instead. A task that Mouse seemed to feel would put Eth just as far ahead in Robotics the next season as any of the kids who did end up going to one of these university camp sessions. So the Rubik's got bought. The challenge got laid down. And now it was up to Ethan on if he was going to bite.

The one who Erin could really feel biting, though, was Justin. His eyes had again set on Jay in silent examination – that bordered on accusation. How could he know this about his little brother? How dare he? But Erin didn't think anyone else in the room saw it that way.

"My respect," Jay responded to Ethan's question bluntly, raising a warning eyebrow at him.

Ethan gazed at him and then looked at the Rubik's Cube that he'd already pulled out of the box. "I can do it," he muttered. But he didn't sound so sure.

"So prove it," Jay had pressed again. Ethan twisted it around in his hand. "Jubilee Juice if you and your robot can do it," he offered a bit more congenially.

Ethan looked up and smile at that. "I can do it," he said a bit more firmly that time.

"Prove it," Jay told him again.

Ethan had nodded and twisted some of the cube in his shaky hand. Already setting out on the challenge despite the tremors that were still slowing him down now. Though, he finally seemed to manage to pick off the tape the way he wanted and the paper fell away almost all at once.

He stared at the box in his hand – his brow creasing. It clearly wasn't what he was thinking it was. Erin suspected he might've thought it was a new phone based on the size and shape of the box. Seeing the branding on the box, she knew what was inside now but Eth clearly didn't and he fumbled a bit to try to get the two boxes to slide apart. But his eyes got wide as they did.

"Erin! Look!" he said and near shoved the Casio G-Shock watch with all its various dials, hands and digital into her face. She barely had a chance to look at it before he had pulled it back to himself and was excitedly fumbling around to get it out of the box. It was on a plastic stand when he did get it out and he fiddled with it again for a moment before holding it out at her.

She just gave him a thin smile and nodded her chin at Hank. "Get your dad to help," she instructed.

Ethan gave her a little huff but managed to use the coffee table to get himself upright in his few feet limp over to his dad. Hank accepted the held out watch and easily popped it off the casing and undid the buckle.

"It's awesome, Dad," Ethan said as he stood in front of him, watching the progress, and then held out his shaking left arm.

Hank eyed it for a moment and then shook his head. "Put it on your non-dominant hand," he said and knocked the one hand down slightly, before accepting the other wrist and not providing any question or comment about if his son needed help getting it on. It was clear he did. It would've been a needless struggle and embarrassment if Hank had left it up to Eth to manage himself.

"Thank you," Ethan said quietly as Hank got it in place but his dad just grunted while E stood gazing at his new possession with some admiration. "It's pretty much a cop watch, right, Dad? Like yours?"

A thin smile tugged again at the corners of Hank's lips at that. "Close enough," he said.

Erin knew that it wasn't quite that. A gift like Hank's watch would be something that he'd give his son on his 18th or 21st birthday. But Erin also knew that the snazzy G-Shock would be a bit more than a starter watch for her baby brother on his thirteenth – even if the thing looked so giant on his wrist, it seemed to accentuate what a little boy he still was. A little boy who still just really wanted to follow in Daddy's footsteps. How much longer would any of that last?

But maybe they still had time. They all did. Or at least they had Ethan to help them keep it.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: SO I was going to Jay and Erin's present and the "dog's" present in this chapter too. But it was getting a little long. So I guess you have to wait. Sorry.**


	98. Making the Time

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 97 - Watching the Time.**

Ethan plopped his hands on one of the two remaining presents on the coffee table and pulled it toward him. He was all smiles. Actually, even though Hank could tell his boy was hurting a bit and was being a little cautious with his brother there and a little moody about his nephew being around, he thought his youngest was pretty full of beans that morning. Smiles. Excitement. Real bit of a bounce in his step – despite him having overheard J's mumbled commentary at Erin about the crutches and brace. He'd even heard that word – "cripple" – come out of his oldest's mouth again and had to pull back a breath to keep from ripping into him. There was going to be fucking hell to pay, if Eth overheard his brother say that. None of Hank's kids were crippled – no matter what challenges any of the three of them had faced in their lives.

And, Hank's objective for the day had been to see some of those smiles out of his youngest. E was pretty good at smiling. Being silly – or at least real fucking sarcastic. But real happiness? Sometimes those kinds of smiles seemed few and far between. He'd wanted to make sure Magoo got some moments of happiness out of the day. So far that seemed to be working out. Though, he knew it could take a turn for the worse at any second. J could figure out some way to ruffle feathers or hurt feelings. The fucking barbecue might still be a diaster. He was still holding out hope that some kids besides Diego and Michelle showed up in their dads' tow at the thing. But he also wasn't holding his breath on that one. He'd just have to hope that Eth didn't take that too harshly. That other aspects of the day would raise him up enough that what was missing wouldn't be what he noticed or remembered.

Enough was missing as it was. Camille would be putting up a real stink about them getting their youngest kid to his teens. Raising a teenager in their 50s. Fuck. That hadn't been in the plan. He'd be 60 before Eth even was graduating high school – if he fucking finished on time. Be looking at hitting mandatory before he was done college – if they managed to get him into one. Wouldn't have the same kind of hooks as he did now for Erin, if Magoo really did end up shooting for CPD. Maybe fucking little Magoo was right. He wasn't retro. He was just real fucking old.

Camille would like that too. Laugh and laugh. Rib him about it for days. Mess with him. Fucking hated getting old. He supposed in a way he never expected to. Not when he lost his own dad so young. Not when he'd gone chasing after him in his footsteps too. Maybe cops weren't supposed to get old. But hard to think that way too much when you had kids of your own. Then you sure got reason to around to grow old. Especially when your work had meant that their mother wasn't there. That she was the one that left too early - died too young – when it was supposed to be you.

Instead it was him who was having to watch their kids finish growing up. Their kids chase their dreams. And make their mistakes and him having to usher them out of them. Start their families too. Bring home fucking grandkids.

And there was another thing that made growing old worth it. H certainly made it worth. Seeing his three kids interacting with him made it worth it. Funny, though, how the two youngest in the room were the ones that made him feel the oldest. But made it worth it in the biggest way. The reason to just keep stacking on the years and not worrying too much about it. Actually, it sorta made you want – hope – you got to keep stacking on those years so you got to be there that much longer.

Time it was a funny fucking thing. Just like he had trouble believing he had a thrity year old. Or that his oldest boy – that little baby, they'd brought home – was twenty-four with a baby boy of his own. That his own baby boy was now a teenager. That he was fifty-five. That Camille had been gone almost six years. That E had been home more than a year now. That his grandson was nearly a year old. All of it. It just seemed like yesterday. He didn't know where the time went.

But kids had a way of pushing it forward. Making it speed up on you. Even though time felt like it took forever to them – it reached a point in your life where suddenly it all just started to speed up. And he had his youngest home now to keep pushing it forward faster and faster. Filling his schedule and turning him into a taxi cab. Dragging him every which direction between home and work and health and fatherhood. But he'd take it. So he could see it – and make up for what he missed. In his little boy who had always been a bit of an old soul and crashed into becoming older than he was far too soon.

Now, though, E was just at the age he wanted to grow up. To get older. That he wanted to be a teenager and that would turn into counting down to high school and counting down to college and counting down to his supposed freedom and adult life. Pushing farther and farther away from being a little boy – his baby boy – and into a man. Hopefully a good one. He'd have to trust in that. That he'd done enough there. For Magoo. For Camille. To ensure that their baby boy was one of the good ones. Good foundation. Lots of promise.

Kid was obessed with time anymore. Blame it on the Robotics club and that big timer hanging over every match. Or blame it on all their time in the hospital and the watching of the clock it created. It could drive you crazy. Ants in the pants. Fucking pace. Only Eth couldn't pace so he'd be constantly asking the time. Turned into grabbing at Hank's wrist and checking the time himself when Voight refused to answer what time it was every two minutes anymore.

But there was his son. He latched onto things. The watch. He didn't even know what it was about it. But there were questions. About his work watch. About his father's watch. About the watches cops wore and why. About why he didn't have a watch. About why kids didn't wear watches anymore. About this and that and the other thing.

Time. Watches. Watching the time. It'd become another obsession. But maybe one Hank didn't mind so much. There was something to be said about being on time and on schedule. Something to be said about a man having his own watch. A good one. So his boy had got one. It was a man's watch – on a still little boy's wrist, no matter what he thought. But maybe the weight of it would help slow down time a bit. Or at least get Eth to see the value of it in its passing a little bit more.

Because you didn't want to miss stuff like this. Knew Camille didn't want to. Didn't deserve to be. So he had to bear witness. And he had to try to make it at least somewhere in the realm of a level of acceptable that their mother would've approved of. A happy fucking birthday.

H caught onto E's little smacking of the present and apparently thought it meant they were going to jam together. He beat on the box too – like drums – those little baby tooth grin gazing up at his uncle for approval before smacking at it again and giggling only to look to find his mom's eyes. He was such a cute little bugger. Busy. Real fucking busy. Good baby, though. Good little boy. Goin' be a handful but kids were.

"I'm gonna open this one next," Magoo declared, casting Hank a look.

Voight gave his head a shake and pointed to the other gift. "Save that one for last," he instructed.

"But this one's from Bear," E squinted at him.

Voight gave a bit of a shrug. "So? Open the other one."

Eth glanced at the other remaining gift. "That one's from Erin and Jay. It will be better than the one from the dog."

Hank let out a little sound at that. "That so?" he put to his son.

Magoo shrugged. "Yea," he said with a bit of that fucking teenaged tone that he'd been working real hard on perfecting the past couple months. Going to be a long five years at least. Longer. Voight was learning some kids never quite grew out of the whole tone and attitude routine. Still got both from his twenty-four-year-old and his thirty-year-old. Though, at least one of those two generally treated him with the appropriate amount of respect the majority of the time even if they handed out a whole fucking lot of sass in the process. "They're people. This is from the dog. And I know what it is."

Hank grunted and crossed his arms over his chest. "That so?"

"Yea," his boy put to him so self-assuredly. "It's the Snap Circuits expansion. Because Bear likes when I make him robots, right?"

"Mmm," Voight grunted again and raised his one elbow at the table again. "Open your sister's gift."

"And Jay's," E corrected.

"And Jay's …" Hank put flatly with the talk-back, casting Erin a look.

She wasn't paying too much attention. She'd snuck right up behind Henry in the midst of him trying to help E with the gift-opening again. Had him pulled into her lap and was tickling him. H was just shrieking pure glee about it as he flailed around trying to get away from her.

Hank sure wished that Olive and J were getting back up to Chicago that summer already. Would be real nice to have his grandson to take the park. Be a whole lotta fun to have him home for his first birthday. Camille would want them to have lots of pictures of that in the house. But it'd be nice to get to watch his boy be a parent – a father. And to get to see his daughter be an aunt too. Because she was real good with him and she sure got a glow about her when she got to play with him too. Not that she'd want to be told that. She'd think he was pressuring her.

Didn't much want to do that. Would just get her back all up and then he wouldn't get any grandkids out of her anytime soon.

She'd get to having a family when she was ready. Was starting to move in that direction. And, besides, he'd lectured her about not playing house. Thing was he'd sure made her play house with him and Eth that year. And, he sure understood that if she hadn't been playing house with Halstead not so indiscreetly in the background, she probably wouldn't have been that emotionally available and stable to do that. So he was going to trust her to find the balance – be a cop, be a wife, be a mother. Hopefully still be the one working in his unit when it was all said and done too – but that was up to her and up to Halstead and then up to the powers-that-be to some point too. She'd figure it out, though. Smart girl. Savvy.

Still, she looked up from blowing rather loud kisses against Henry's cheek and belly, as he squirmed away. Though he danced in front of her, shifting from foot to foot in his unable stance. He clearly was waiting to see if Auntie Erin was going to continue to tease him. He was nearly begging for it. But her shifting her attention to the coffee table to move the other gift closer to Magoo, was enough to send H searching for new entertainment.

Off he went to Daddy with that damn Smart Wheelies thing held out again. Hank was pretty sure he was going to have the fucking thing's song seared into his mind for weeks. Fucking earworm he didn't need.

Hank had already almost said as much. He was almost on-board with Eth's suggestion that they turn the damn thing's sounds off. But Olive had already indicated that H was a smart cookie. He'd figured out that the on-off switch that Mommy used all too often too was on the bottom of the toy. His little fingers weren't quite dexterous enough to do it on his own most of the time – but he sure put up a fuss of waving the damn thing upside down and whinging if he thought you'd gone and turned it off on him and he wanted the sound turned back on.

J had told Hank that if he really wanted another another song stuck in his head that the toy set had an endless amount of vehicles and playsets and tracks. Apparently H already had a few in his collection at home, though David the Dump Truck was by far his favorite. But they'd sure like to diversify that collection to get rid of their own ear worms. The hint, hint, nudge, nudge, wink, wink birthday idea for H had been none too discrete. But Hank could likely manage that if these things didn't care some ridiculous price tag. Or at least he could set E on picking a new Smart Wheelies for him. Voight thought Popa should likely do something a little more practical to mark his grandson's first.

David was already singing again with Magoo letting out another groan when Erin tapped her gift to his chest.

"Here," she encouraged. "I'm not sure it can compete with a Snap Circuits set from the dog, though …"

Voight let out an amused noise at that. He actually thought E might end up a little disappointed that he didn't end up with the expected expansion. But Hank definitely thought he'd dropped enough cash into the whole Robotics thing for one year at the moment. They could revisit that closer to next season. Though, maybe it'd have to be sooner if he needed some part to complete this little Rubik's Cube project Halstead was giving him. Hopefully Mouse could just hook his boy up if that was the case – without there being anything close to a C-note being involved in it.

E worked at picking at the paper – at the seams. It was sure slowing down the process of things. For a kid so obsessed with time these days, he wasn't doing much to help them keep on schedule that morning. Hank glanced at his own watch. He wanted to be over at the park in about an hour. Was going to be a bit of a rush at this point. Still had to get everything packed in the coolers. Cars loaded. Baby likely needed to be changed. Eth medicated. Get over and hopefully get a spot close to the picnic shelter he got booked so they didn't have to drag all the crap a mile before even starting in on set-up. Likely wasn't going to have the grill even warmed up before people started showing. If they showed – on time.

"Magoo," Hank rasped, "you need to pick up the pace. Told ya you can rip the paper."

He glanced over at him. "You like saving the paper," he said.

Erin gave him a smart-assed look at that. Some kind of told you so. Dig your own grave thing. It was called being fucking thrifty. Kid should know that. But they sure didn't make paper the way they used to. It wasn't much worth keeping anymore. So even though she gave Hank that look, she shifted her eyes back to her little brother.

"Eth, it's my paper and it's from the Dollar Store. We're not keeping it."

There wasn't much paper from that day worth keeping at all. H had done a real good job at helping E with the gift unwrapping. But he didn't know anything about the whole careful opening process. He'd pulled the wrapping off in clumps, holding it up proudly in his little clenched fists for everyone to see. His birthday was going to be real fun. Christmas would be even better. Gonna be at the age he wanted to participate some. It'd be a good one. Next one after that would be even better. Little two and a half year old running around. They'd all be in real trouble then. Wouldn't be able to keep the decorations on the tree or the bows on the presents likely.

Eth, though, wasn't taking the hint. So Erin reached over and gave a quick tear to the paper. He made a noise and glared at his sister. She nudged his shoulder.

"It's from me," she said. "I'm allowed. Henry helped open his."

"He's like one," E grunted at her.

But Erin just reached and tore another strip off the gift, giving her brother a smart-assed eyebrow cock.

Sometimes the age gap between them just faded away. Went at it like real brother and sister. Annoyed the shit out of each other. Bickering all the time. Giving each other such a hard time. Fighting. But then she'd come back as that real big sister. That confidant that Voight sure hoped that E kept through his teen years. Didn't push her away too hard – like Justin had on-and-off. Though, he'd always come crawling back to her when he needed help out of a jam. Erin was his flak when he needed some protection from Dad – or Mom.

Magoo and Erin had a different relationship, though. Grown more that year. Changed. It'd had to. But Erin got different smiles from E than the rest of them got. Pushed different buttons. Knew how to treat him a different way than he or J or even Halstead knew how to treat him. Erin wasn't a dick.

She was just proving it again that morning. He'd seen the way she kept strategically placing herself between H and E to keep any jealously or battle for attention or sharing of space and belongings from boiling over. He'd seen even more how she kept working as a little conduit between his youngest boy and his oldest boy. The fucking mediator again. But they needed that. Erin had a tendency to give the family what they needed. Even if it meant she had to be a martyr. But it made her a good sister – to both the boys. And a good daughter. Was going to make her a real good wife and a real good mom too. Giving. Caring. Willing to make those sacrifices.

Knew she was making more sacrifices that day too. Erin had more than proved she would go above-and-beyond for Magoo. But Hank knew that she preferred to have the majority of her days off to herself. She'd show up on her days off. Come by for a meal or spend an hour or two with Magoo. Sometimes she'd take the kid out. E liked that. So did Hank. Gave him a bit of a break. Not that there was ever truly a break from parenting or the job. But at least it was a couple hours where E wasn't an in-his-face factor. Though, he usually ended up using that "free time" for other household crap – cleaning up without Magoo underfoot, getting groceries and errands done without exhausting the kid by dragging him along or worrying about leaving him alone in the house if he looked like death rolled over. Not exactly cards at the social club with the scanner within reach.

Voight knew that Eth's birthday wouldn't exactly land on the list of days that Erin wanted to be elsewhere but felt obligated to check-in at home. He knew that she wanted to be there for her baby brother too. Celebrate him and his day. But she'd made sacrifices in that too. Wasn't exactly an easy, smiling, happy day for her either. Voight knew from some things that she'd said in passing that E's birthday was one of those marker days for her. One attached to Camille and the memories from her teens and their former life as a family. Still a family now. But they were different.

Wasn't just that, though. Erin had had to be the martyr again – make a sacrifice – so that E could have his brother home for this milestone. For the family too. So they could try to move on. Get over it. Congeal before they were all together in one place again. So they fucking could be all together in one place again. At least for now. He appreciated that. But it was hard. Could see it in all three of his kids' body language. They were struggling with how to figure out how to make it work. At least they were trying, though.

Erin had been trying for weeks to help make sure Eth had a decent birthday. Had stepped up with helping Hank try to get things to fall into place for the kid. He wasn't sure how much any of it was falling into place. But at least they were trying. And she knew how to manage some of this crap better than him. He appreciated her effort. That's about as much as he could ask out of his kids. Be there for each other. Fucking try. Try, try and try again. Keep pushing forward.

Some of the three were better at that than others. They all had their lapses. They were kids. They were human.

E's glare at his sister softened a bit as he saw what the striped wrapping had revealed. He shot her a thin smile but then directed it at Jay.

"Star Wars," he said, as he got the rest of the paper off, no longer seeming to care about its careful removal.

"Tie Fighter," Jay put flatly.

Eth nodded and glanced at his dad. "It's a ship. In Star Wars."

Hank just grunted, running his tongue along his teeth. Sometimes his kid thought he was really fucking stupid. He'd seen the fucking movies. Had to endure the fucking Star Wars cartoon thing that the kid had on the TV every week. He wasn't that dense. But, he'd done the parenting thing enough, that he knew he was right smack in the phase where his kid was going to think he was about the dumbest person on the planet. Seemed like kids didn't really start to pull out of that until their 20s. Somewhere in them leaving home and first real jobs hitting and broken hearts and some of the bigger fuck ups and missteps, they started to realize their parents might not be so stupid after all. That they really had been around the sun a few more times than them and had some know-how from their own life experiences about the fucking harsh realities of every day life. But usually meant accepting that their parents were human – just like them – and that humans were all fucking stupid in their own ways. No one knew all the answers – even the fucking smart-ass kids. Tough pill for any kid to come to terms with. But part of the whole growing up thing. More shifts and changes of dynamic in a family.

"It's a wallet," Erin clarified more directly for Hank, as the kid finally actually held it up to show to him.

Looked decent enough. Definitely more grown-up than the florescent, Velcro thing that Magoo had now. Even if this one did have a fucking Star Wars ship on it.

Thing only seemed to hold his attention so long, though, and he leaned forward to put it on the coffee table. "Thanks," he muttered, already reaching for the last gift.

But Erin slapped at his shoulder. "Look inside," she pressed at him – with the you're-a-fucking-tool tone that she liked using with both her brothers when they annoyed the shit out of her. E gave her a bit of a look at its current use. "It's bad luck to give a wallet to someone and not put something in it."

The wheels churned at that statement a bit. Though, Hank let out an unimpressed smack and Erin's eyes met his with a continued annoyed look. But, he didn't much like the idea of there being anything in the wallet – especially cash. Erin knew that he wasn't big on kids having too much money in their possession at any given time. Just asking for trouble. Even though E had done pretty good over the year at learning how to do some budgeting and saving. Pocket money didn't seem to burn a hole in his pocket too badly. Especially now that he couldn't be dropping it on junk food and bottles of Coke. He'd quickly come to terms with the fact that sneaking that shit didn't really work. Might get it by Dad – but he sure fucking paid for it in other ways even when he did. So it wasn't really getting by any of them in the end. Another tough pill for any kid to swallow. But all considering, E had mostly been a trooper about all the changes he'd had to endure. Tough little boy. Was going to make him a strong man.

Hank supposed he should start thinking of him as a young man now. He wondered how Camille would feel about that. Funny that if Camille was still around, it'd be him who'd be giving her a hard time about thinking of Magoo as her baby – or treating him like one. But with his mom gone, Voight felt like he had to hold onto that for her sometimes. Wanted his boy to grow up to be a man. But sometimes when you'd seen a kid go through so much, you wanted to cling a bit to the bit of childhood they had left in them. E would resent it, though, if he made that too apparent. Wasn't a little kid again. Wasn't a baby. Wasn't even the family baby anymore. They had H now.

As E flipped open the wallet, though, the hopeful curiosity painted across his face and he gave Erin a bit of a huff, giving her that annoyed look again.

"Erin, I think you're supposed to put like … cash or gift cards in it. NOT business cards. I already have your business card AND I have your number in my phone. AND memorized."

She smiled and rocked, nudging him in the shoulder with the weight of her body. "Now you have Jay's too," she teased, pointing at the opposite side of the wallet.

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Yea," he groaned. "Three. Whoopie." He moved to close the wallet but Erin reached to get him to keep it open.

"Actually, six," she said, pulling the one card out to reveal a second one underneath. "Each." She handed her brother the card. "Actually look at it."

He flared his nostrils and cast her another look. "Erin, I've seen business cards before."

"Hey," she said, nudging at him again. "I don't just hand out my cards to anyone. Really look at it."

He rolled his eyes and looked at the card. "Yea, OK. Thanks," he muttered.

Erin cocked her eyebrow at him and reached to flip the card over in his hand so he was looking at the back. She jammed her finger into it. "What's it say?'

Hank strained his neck forward just slightly to make out scrawled pen marks on the back of the card.

Eth sat staring at the text. His glasses were on and that had helped a whole lot with his reading – or rather his eyeing. But his mind still seemed to struggle with some comprehension with getting it to all piece together. And they were all pretty aware that his struggle increased when it was handwriting he was looking at. Even getting him to read text on a page or screen was a struggle but when it wasn't familiar block text, it might as well be hieroglyphics sometimes, it seemed.

"Need help?" Erin asked.

But Magoo gave his head a little shake. "Fishing and smoked trout at Calumet's," he managed to get out in a struggled staccato. He gave Erin a questioning look as he did.

But she nodded and turned the card back around. "So that's from Jay," she said. "They're coupons. You can turn in one a month. So we'll take you out to do something each month, all year."

Ethan gazed at her with a smile slowly spreading across his face. But Hank heard Justin let out a small sound as his brother's eyes and shaking fingers looked back to the wallet to pull out another card – one from Erin's side.

J's noise, though, meant that Hank was looking over there and not at the birthday boy. He could see that scrunched brow and scowl setting in on J's face, as looked over the coffee table at his siblings. Hank's eyes just set on him in a firm, warning stare.

He knew what it was about. J made more than clear that he resented Erin's relationship with Ethan. Resent more that Erin's relationship with E now meant that her fiancee – Halstead – was developing a relationship with Magoo. But the whole thing was fucking ridiculous. J had every opportunity to develop a relationship with Magoo. When they were younger – even now. He would again when he was back in the city. And E had long done some hero worship of his big brother. Wanted to trail after him and play with him. Problem was that J was a snot-nosed teenager – a fucking rebel without a cause and a big attitude problem and chip on his shoulder – when E was a little boy. He hadn't wanted much to do with his baby brother. Hadn't wanted to play. Hadn't wanted a tag along. He just wanted to do his own thing. And, he'd then screwed up even more when the kids should've been drawn together with the loss of their mom. Instead, J's decisions had had huge implications for their family that torn them apart. Hurt J's relationship with E … and all of them … even more. Wounds they were still healing from. Likely always would be. Some scars never healed.

They could work on that. But J couldn't fucking expect Erin to just not have a relationship with her baby brother while Justin fucking figured it out. If he ever did. Erin had a bond with E. She had since he was a baby. Maybe it was a girl thing. Maybe it was her way of trying to secure her place in the family. Or maybe the universe just fucking planned for those two to be together. Something had fucking known that they'd need each other in their own ways and at their own times in their lifelines. So there they were. Hank didn't much care about the philosophy mumbo-jumbo behind it. Just cared that they did have each other. That they were both good for each other. And he was sure glad for that.

For all the effort Erin put into being that big sister for her little brother – not just that being a role model and a mentor and a guardian to him – she deserved to get some of the fun stuff too. Deserved to spend time with him doing things they both enjoyed. Not just wiping his ass. So J could tone down those looks. Swallow his pride. Just like Erin had swallowed hers so J could be there that day – in that house, back with the family, back in his brother's life. Now it was his responsibility to figure out how to fucking deal with that. To take advantage of it. To not fucking screw it up again. Getting that fucking scowl and glare off his face was the first fucking step.

"Trip to Graham Crackers to pick new game – and we'll play it," Ethan read next and shot his sister a bigger smile. "I know which one I'm going to get."

She nudged against him again. "Not another Monopoly."

Ethan slowly worked at reading through each of them. His smile grew bigger and bigger each time while J sat over there scowling and tensing more and more. Olive fidgeting nervously next to him and even Henry recoiling from him back to Mommy while his dad gave off that negative energy. Was just creating other negative energy in the room too because Halstead kept giving him looks with every noise he made and readjustment of his elbows and clutched hands on his knees – shifting between staring at Erin and Magoo and staring at the floor like he was trying to come up with something to say but thankfully was keeping his fucking trap shut so far. Hank was starting to think it'd be Halstead who'd open his fucking trap first with the way his eyes kept moving away from his fiancée and Magoo and casting daggers at J's spoiled pout.

All of it was pissing Hank off, because he felt like he was having to keep his eyes on those too. Watching and waiting for the second he had to intervene when he really wanted to keep his eyes on his youngest and Erin. Watching them interact. Listening to their silly and sarcastic exchanges about each item. Seeing them happy and realized. The way he liked to see his kids.

A new videogame with no screen-time limits for one overnight at Erin's place, a trip to a museum of his choice, dinner at Fat Bastard Burritos with the privilege of saying 'bastard' as many times as he wanted without an allowance penalty, trip to a movie of his choice – and we won't tell Dad the rating, a vinyl trip with an album purchase – either on iTunes or for the turntable, trip to the Hobby Shark with a $20 comic and/or baseball card budget, snack at Eth's favorite fry joint, a get out of weekend chores card – with Erin and Jay offering up taking on Magoo's cleaning duties, a double-up on his allowance in a given week, and the one E had near burst about – the promise of a weekend up at Halstead's cabin.

Hank was pretty keen on that idea too. It'd get E and Erin out of his hair for a weekend. Hadn't had a couple days back-to-back kid free for a long time. Loved his kids. Real fucking glad to have his boy home, despite the shitshow Eth's homecoming had been and what the year following it had brought. Been good for him. Been good for Erin. And had been real good – the right thing – for his son. It was righting a ship that Voight had let get too far off-course. And it was a damn good thing too. A good wake-up call about some things he needed to change. Helped get the whole family back on course. Almost. But didn't negate that sometimes he just wanted some fucking space. His house to himself. Able to do his own thing, his own way without a little kid looking over his shoulder or his adult daughter evaluating his every move and feeling like she was allowed to provide commentary on it. So go to the fucking cabin. He'd even suggested that her and Halstead better fucking book some furlough and make it a fucking three- or four-day weekend. E had lit up at that. Erin had been the one to glare. Apparently she still wasn't a fan of the Great Outdoors even if it was at the future husband's digs. His toughie street kid could still be little Miss Priss in her own goddamn way.

She wasn't the only one who was glaring. J had really set in at that.

"You've got a cabin?" he'd put rather bluntly with that fucking judgmental tone of his to Halstead.

But Jay'd just shrugged. "I inherited a cabin," he put back with just as much tone. Fucking venom, actually. "With my brother. It's my grandfather's."

J had nodded and looked down at the floor over his hands. "Where?" he'd grunted, like it fucking mattered.

But it'd been E who'd provided that with fucking overjoyed enthusiasms "Northern Wisconsin! It's right on the river! Muskie and Large-mouth! And BALD EAGLES! Jay and Erin went on Memorial Day. It looks awesome! It's a real log cabin! With bunks! Show him the pictures, Erin!"

"I don't want to see pictures," J muttered.

"I can use the sleeping bag!" Eth glowed, casting his brother a look but J wasn't even looking at him, so he smiled nervously at Olive instead who gave him a thin smile.

"It's supposed to be for camping," Justin mumbled.

"Well, I can take it to the cabin too," E said, squinting at him.

Justin moved his eyes over to Hank. "You taking him to Lake Geneva this summer too?"

Hank shrugged. "Still take him out somewhere," he provided flatly. Didn't fucking matter where he was taking his son in his summer furlough. Wasn't a necessary part of the discussion or equation.

"Dad says we're likely just going to camp on holidays this year," E put directly at this brother – projecting his own distaste about the tone of the conversation. "Because we're probably going to come down and help you move."

J glanced at him and then glanced at Hank, who just smacked at him. That was exactly what he'd set-up E to start expecting. Wouldn't be out at the cottage rental that summer. They'd make the trip down to base. Stop for a couple nights along the way at some parks and sites he'd long wanted to take his boy to but had never gotten around to. But the majority of the holiday – it'd be spent helping Olive get packed up. Bringing up any boxes she wanted brought up ahead of time. Even driving her and Henry back if they needed and wanted a bit of a head-start on getting settled back down in the city.

E didn't much like that idea. But he'd accepted it. In a lot more grown-up way than what was painting across Justin's face right then.

Erin, though, tried to defuse the situation again. "Should check the actual wallet," she said.

"You said it was one a month," Eth mumbled. "It's already twelve."

She leaned into him. "Isn't it your thirteenth birthday?" she asked.

He gave her a squint. Seemed like he did that a lot anymore with the glasses. Kid was still getting used to them. But he fumbled and looked into the bill holder, pulling out a folded piece of paper.

Voight let out an amused noise as he saw what was written across the front – clearly making out the lettering before Ethan. "FART FREE DAY", Erin's penmanship declared in red marker.

"Mmm," Voight nodded. "Those coupons come in real handy."

E cast him a look. "You still haven't used yours," he said.

Hank reached down and scuffed at Bear's head. Mutt was finally behaving. Had settled down amidst all the activity. But the pup would be going nuts again as soon as they got him to the park. Especially when there was sausage on the grill and balls being tossed and batted around. That's OK, though. Mutts were a lot like kids. Run them silly and they crashed out. Get you some peace and quiet that way.

"Sure I did," he said. "Smacked that stickie onto the mutt's rear. Didn't honor the request."

Ethan huffed at him. "Dad, it's not Bear's fault he farts. Have you smelled his food."

Voight shook his head. "Ain't my job to feed the mutt."

"It's disgusting. You'd fart lots too if you had to eat it. You fart lots anyways."

Olive made a quiet snicker and slapped her hand up to her mouth to try to hide the smile on her face. "Sorry," she muttered and gestured at Henry. "He's awful too. And, I swear, he knows he does it too. He gets a giant grin on his face."

H already had a giant grin on his face. He knew Mommy was talking about him. Little hooligan. He was a rascal.

"Mmm …," Hank acknowledge, smiling at his grandson and ignoring the fact that his youngest was letting his daughter-in-law know that apparently he was a gas machine.

Maybe hot air ran stark in the Voight house.

"Unfold it," Erin instructed.

E did and gave her a smile and looked over at Halstead. "Thank you," he said.

The detective nodded. "No problem. We didn't get out last summer like I promised ya. So we'll go this one. Or back to the laser tag thing, if you'd prefer that instead."

E shook his head. "No, paintball."

Justin made a face and looked over at his dad. "You let him do paintball?"

"Sure. That what they want to spend their money on …?" Hank shrugged.

Justin gaped and looked at E. "But …"

Eth glared. "We did tactical combat in the winter," he spat at his brother, because he could clear see where this was going. What his brother was thinking. "I did good. I can do lots of things, J. I'm not a retard or a cripple."

Justin just made a sound and sat back in the couch, giving Olive a look. She gave him a thin smile but Olive could see the warning behind it. She was uncomfortable. She knew they were teetering into dangerous territory again. Sometimes Voight more than fucking wished he could be a fly on the wall to hear what sort of conversations or flak Justin had with his with about her training up to be a physical therapist. Especially her focusing in on working with multiple sclerosis patients. The woman seemed to have her head on straight about it. Much more realistic perspective about what the juvenile disease meant, what it's progression looked like. What E's life looked like now, what it might look like in the future. How to work within that. Boundaries and challenges he'd have. Asked smart questions. Took some interest. Even had given a bit of input and advice – that Voight had ruffled at hearing but it'd been halfways decent.

So his daughter-in-law could manage on that. But his son could still barely look at his baby brother without casting his eyes away. Gone through a whole lot of that when E was in the hospital after the collision too. J refusing to come and see him and visit. Not being there while they were working to get Eth to remember who they all were again. Not being there while they were having to teach him to talk and get steady on his feet again. Not looking wanting to look at him after his surgery after surgery after surgery to piece his skull and face and shoulder and little ribs back together. To re-inflate that collapsed lung. None of it. J wouldn't come to the hospital. Not even after Eth was out of ICU and off into the Rehab Center for the months and months of slow progress to get him ready to come home. The few times he did get dragged in, it'd been near kicking and screaming and he'd stand silently in a corner, staring at the floor.

Guilt. Hank got it. He understood. He had a whole lot of guilt about what happened to his wife. What happened to his little boy. That his kids didn't have their mother. He got that J had snuck out. That J had been drinking. He got that at least the kid had fucking honored the request that if he was going to be out and doing something stupid with his friends that he shouldn't be doing – that he at least not get behind the wheel drunk. That he not get into someone else's car if the driver was wasted. That he call home. That someone would get him home – safely. Him calling in the middle of the night wouldn't be part of them being pissed at him – ever. So he'd called. And it'd meant that call had Camille pulling his baby brother out of bed – because Hank wasn't fucking home – and loading him into the car and going off to retrieve their delinquent son. But Hank hadn't ever once blamed him. Not once.

Things had improved a bit when they did get Eth home. J looked at him more. Seemed like they were forming a bit of a relationship again. But by then J was already spiraling out of control – more than before. And H hadn't bit it in the ass soon enough. He had a whole lotta shoulda, woulda, coulda in all of it. He really fucking hated looking at life through those lens. Fucking waste of time.

Still, he didn't really fucking understand what was driving all this guilt and division between them now. Why J couldn't fucking look at his brother? If anything, it was E who maybe might have some reason to hold a bit of a grudge against Justin. But he didn't. Hank wouldn't let that fester if he did. That's not how he wanted his kids to be with each other. They were supposed to be there for each other. Support each other. Look after each other – especially after he couldn't be there to look after them anymore. They needed to have each other's backs. It was the whole reason him and Camille wanted their kids to have some siblings. Wanted them to have some real family. Real ties.

He didn't know if it was guilt going back to the collision since the doctors had speculated that Eth's brain damage might be a driving factor in having trigger his rare progressive M.S., especially with it being a juvenile case. But maybe it wasn't. They didn't really fucking know. The doctors hardly understood what caused M.S. as it was – let alone in juveniles and even less when it appeared in brain injury patients. Maybe some day they'd just find out that M.S. was in his genetics and no matter what it was going to pop up. Maybe it was because him and Camille had him later in life. Maybe he'd been exposed to something – a virus, a bacteria, a chemical – when he was a little boy or in utero. Maybe even Camille's placenta abruption and whatever prescription cocktail they'd pumped into her for that and the surgery had triggered it. Maybe it was because Magoo came into the world a little prematurely and a little earlier than expected. The doctors really didn't fucking know. All they knew was that Eth had it now – and they were dealing with it the best way the medical community seemed to know how in the moment. Maybe some day in the future they'd know better. But for now there wasn't much point in anyone blaming anyone abut it. E sure as hell didn't. There hadn't be a whole lot of woe is me or why me outta his boy. There never had been. Not when he was hurt. Not now. Voight kinda thought maybe Eth just didn't have that in him. Didn't think that way. And that was likely a blessing.

So maybe it was more that J looked at his brother and really did see a cripple. As much as Hank hated that. But maybe it made Justin look into the face what he'd gone and done to another family. Paralyzing that boy who had so much potential. And doing it by doing something he'd promised his parents he'd never do. Something that maybe he should've learned from the first time and the second time and the third time. But he hadn't and Voight hadn't made him. So some other teen-aged boy was going through life without his legs. And now they had Magoo there with him as some glimpse of just what that was like. A reminder about what their own family had gone through in the wake of Justin's decisions – court and jail and little boys being sent to boarding school. There family had been torn apart and re-defined too because of what he'd done. And maybe that was hard for him to face. To look it in the eyes.

Part of Hank sort of hoped that maybe having a son of his own had made J realize just how hard being a parent was. Being a father. To a boy. How much worry went into it even when your kid had so much as a runny nose. That he'd managed to put some real thought into what it must be like to do the day-in, day-out of caring for a child who had a progressive, chronic illness, a disability that caused mobility issues and a brain injury that made him struggle academically and socially. How much it fucking hurt to see your kid hurting. How much it hurt to see your kid trying so fucking hard to be 'normal' and fit in and to know that was always going to be just out of his grasp no matter how fucking hard he tried. Because, Voight knew, some days facing all that – looking all that in the eye – could be hard. But he also knew when you did – you got those smart, witty, laughing eyes looking back at you. Those deep ones that Camille had given him. And that made staring him down – staring all this fucking trails and hardships and bullshit down – so fucking worth it.

Because he was a good boy. And he deserved to be seen. And deserved to be treated with respect.

"There's a paintball arena in Lake Geneva," Ethan put to Erin but cast a cautious glance at Halstead.

"Oh, is there?" she raised her eyebrow at him.

"Yea," Magoo shrugged. "So … maybe we could go to that one. … And stay at the resort me and Dad stayed at."

Justin made another sound and everyone's eyes shifted to him. He gestured off the couch to where Erin was sitting, though, he looked at Voight firmly. "Now they're taking him to Lake Geneva?"

"I like Lake Geneva," Ethan interjected. "It's where we always went in the summer."

"Yea, exactly," Justin pressed at his dad. "It's where Mom took us. Now they're co-oping that too."

Hank smacked at him. "J, don't think you'll find a family in Chicago that hasn't taken a getaway on there at some point in their lives. Not a vacation spot that belongs to the family."

Justin flared his nostrils and Magoo examined him. "You can come with me and Dad when you get back," he said. "But we're going to go ice fishing again. And you don't like fishing."

J cast him a dirty look and Hank gave his head a shake, crossing his arms tightly. But he ignored his pouting manchild and gestured at the final gift on the table.

"Magoo, you go on," he said.

E eyed his brother. He was starting to look like he was regretting that he thought he wanted him there again. Didn't need a fucking grown man sulking in the front room. Sometimes Voight wondered how the hell him and Camille hadn't nipped that in the ass. They'd done something wrong there. Only child too long maybe. They'd doted and coddled him too much. They shouldn't have.

But eventually Magoo set down the wallet and his collection of "coupons" and reached to retrieve the remaining present. He pulled it a bit closer to him on the table and started picking at the paper. H again gained some interest and toddled over to help him. E gave him a sullen look but apparently didn't want o be the one creating drama, so instead he picked at the edge and then showed Henry the pull so he could tear off a clump of paper. He took it over to his mom before coming to retrieve another piece. He ripped it off and handed that scrunched up ball to Erin, who smiled and thanked him. And with the third tear, he started to bring it over to Hank – but that strip of paper removed was enough to reveal to Eth what was inside.

His eyes got as big as saucers. "NO WAY!" he shouted and gaped at Erin.

"What is it?" she asked, leaning forward. She clearly wasn't as versed in what the box could be as Magoo.

But he his only response to her was to rapidly swish off the rest of the paper and propping the box upright on the table. He gaped in complete shook at Hank. "Cubs Club Pack!"

Justin cast Hank another look at that. "You got him season's tickets?" he put forward in utter disgust.

Hank pressed his tongue into his cheek at that. He very near had to bite it. Because he was so fucking close to ripping into him again. Reminding him about who the grown-ups were in the room and who the children where. About who's birthday it was and what birthday it was – and who had fucking received a $600 mountain bike for his thirteenth birthday. To remind him about all the fucking nice things he'd done for him and Olive – things he'd paid for – in helping them set up house. Shit he'd bought for his grandson. Money he'd given them to put away for Henry. Supplies to help them out with the expenses of having a new baby at home. Justin got lots. He did lots for him. He did the best he could for all his kids. Tried to give them nice things and spoil them a little bit now and again. And to show them some reward and respect when they'd done real good in a given year. And E had done that. More than done that.

"It's not season's tickets," him and E had both said at the same time. Though, Hank's voice was annoyed and E's was still seeping with excitement.

"It's a Cubs' Club Pack," he clarified and struggled to get to his feet, bring it over to Hank. His hands were shaking so much with his tremor and his overwhelmed excitement that he couldn't manage to get the box to slit open and needed the help. Voight dug his pocket knife out of his pocket and made the quick cuts for him as his boy did a restless dance in front of him that was pretty reminiscent of the one that H was doing while holding onto his opposite knee.

"What's a Cubs' Club Pack?" Justin put back with that annoyed voice. Still clearly displaying his distaste about the gifts his brother had received – for anyone but him, Olive and Henry.

Though, Hank suspected J didn't much like the gifts they'd given either. But Hank didn't much want them spending money they didn't have on things E didn't need. He really appreciated them purchasing that sleeping bag for Magoo. Would come in useful. Would look nice in his room. Keep him warm. They'd done a real good job picking it too – colors, weight, temperature rating, brand. They'd actually likely spent more than he'd wanted them to when he'd put forward the suggestion in the wake of Olive's consistent fretting about it. So they'd done good. J didn't need to get his panties in a knot about what they or anyone else had given E.

"It's like a club," E said. "With stuff. And tickets. How many games, Dad?" he asked with big eyes.

Voight shrugged and finished the knife down the last side, before handing the box back to Magoo. "Take a look. Find out," he said.

He'd expected him to take it back to the table. Plop himself back down. But instead the box had dropped into his lap as E finished prying it open. Both Magoo's and H's hands were flying into it.

"Sweeeeet!" Ethan drooled. "This year's jersey is awesome," he said, grabbing the tshirt at the top of the box first and then ripping the plastic off both it and the branded clinch-pack to gaze at them. He riffled through some of the other contents, looping one of the lanyards around his neck and gazing questioningly at the second.

"Likely two sets of tickets somewhere in there, don't you think?" Voight put to him.

E grinned even more at that and dropped the lanyard around his neck. It earned him a small smile. Nice to know that he intended to let him go to the games with him. Imagine that.

He flipped through the little booklet in the box. Voight knew what was in it for the most part. Membership card to let him get on the field and do a case run after Sunday games, coupon for a tour of Wrigley's, admission to a meet-and-greet with one of the players and a chance to view practice. Some since up paperwork to get on a mailing list for alerts about other Cubs' Club members only events. Then there was a copy of the latest edition of Vine Line, a pack of Opening Day cards, and some "free" tickets to the Under Armour All-America Baseball Game, which sounded like a pretty decent weekend outing to Hank. Sitting in the sun at Wrigley's and having a couple pops while his son drooled over the baseball was a pretty low maintenance activity. Just the kind Hank preferred. Life was busy enough with his kid to be playing fucking tactical combat paintball bullshit with him on his time away from the job.

It wasn't until he lifted up the magazine that he spotted the tickets – and at that point, all interest was lost in everything else in the box.

"Wow," he near drooled out, trying to carefully lift them up without bending them in his tremoring hand. "Look at how nice they are, Dad," he showed them to him but he just grunted. They were special edition prints – done up almost like baseball cards. The kind of stubs you kept – and kept flat without tearing them up to bad thanks to all the scanner technology anymore. Not the kind of thing you just got at the billet booth on the way in.

"Have to keep those," Hank allowed.

Ethan just nodded and paged through the little personalized stack he'd got. His eyes got bigger and he looked at his dad. "Six games?" he asked gleefully.

Hank gave him a little shrug. "That your count?" Magoo nodded hard. "Then I guess you're going to six games."

E's jaw dropped but Hank could see Erin smiling, she'd nudged forward a bit on her ass and pulled H into her lap. He was pretty busy checking out E's new tshirt and backpack but Magoo was too engrossed in his tickets to care. The baby held out the tshirt at Erin and then shoved it into his mouth. She gave him a small smile but shifted her eyes to Ethan, as he flipped through the pack of tickets again and again.

"Who you going to see play, Eth?" she asked with some genuine interest.

"Umm … the Braves," he said and cast her a smile. "Pittsburg. The Mets. The Dodgers. San Francisco. And St. Louis."

She smiled a bit. "When's the first game?"

"Mmm …," Eth said and squinted at the tickets more.

"They're in order," Hank provided. "Top two."

E examined the tickets and then looked back to his dad with even wider eyes. "Tomorrow? This series?"

"Don't get too excited," Hank told him. "We're way up in the cheap seats. For all of 'em."

"Yea, but the outfield," Eth muttered. "It's still awesome. And it's the Cubs." His eyes came up to Hank and looked at him so sincerely. "Thank you, Dad," he said almost shyly.

Hank just shrugged and reached out to grip at his boys shoulder a bit. He was a good boy.

"You deserve it, Magoo," he assured. "Happy birthday."

He gave him another shy smile but then went back to looking at his ticket collection. Hank almost thought he was contemplating keeping them. But he wouldn't let him. He'd rather make the memories with his boy. Give him the time.

And even though J was sitting over there in a scowl, Hank hoped made he was listening – maybe he was seeing what all this was about. It wasn't the gifts – not those tickets, not those coupons. It was about spending time with Magoo. Giving him time. Taking the time. Making the time. Making it last. Remember it.

Maybe J would figure out how to make that work – make the most of it – when he got back to Chicago. If he couldn't figure it out for Magoo, he sure as fuck hoped he'd figure it out for little H. Because you had to be there for them. For your kids.

And whether you were or weren't – that time. It was gone in a blink of an eye. Before you knew it. You didn't want to lose track. Because time, it wasn't something you could ever get back.


	99. Talking at Fences

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 98 - Making the Time.**

Erin glanced away from where her elbows were resting on the chain link fence while she stared at the ongoings on the baseball diamond, casting occasional glances over her shoulder to keep an eye on where Hank was with food prep and just waiting for his bark that he wanted some help getting things sent out on the picnic tables. But as the fence sagged next to her, her eyes were pulled away from her scanning to Justin joining her in a stare out across the diamond.

Though she stared at him, he seemed like he wasn't much interested in making eye contact. At least for a couple seconds, as he seemed to measure what was happening out on the field too. But then his eyes shifted to her.

"Leave it to Pops to host the most awkward party ever," he put to her flatly.

She just looked away, her eyes going back out to the "kids" on the diamond. "He's trying," she responded.

Justin made a noise. "Surprised he doesn't have the whole social club over there too."

Erin gave her eyes a little roll – but didn't let him see that. "You know he doesn't like any of us around the social club."

"Yea. Right," Justin muttered and crossed his arms to lean against the fence too. "Who are these people anyway? Not E's friends."

She gave him a little glance at that but then looked back at the all diamond. She pointed. "That's Michelle. Al's daughter."

"Yea. Got that one. Christmas," he muttered. "Wild oats back to haunt him."

Erin cast him daggers but didn't respond. "I'm guessing that's her boyfriend. Some kid from the boxing gym."

"Ah. Mr. Twenty Percent Off? He's up at the shelter," J muttered with a little nod of his head over back toward the picnic shelter.

Erin didn't even bother to look. She'd seen a while ago that Antonio had arrived – alone. She hadn't noticed a cake box either, so Hank's attempts to have something to feed the kids as dessert might be up in flames. But he also hadn't called her over and sent her out to go look for a cake or cupcakes either. Though, he likely wouldn't want to provide that for the other guests while either just got to watch them eat. She had a feeling that they'd be sticking candles into the watermelon slices instead.

"That's Max," she gestured at the wild child, who seemed like he'd never played baseball before. "He was on Ethan's Robotics Team. I guess they're friends."

Justin made another unimpressed noise. "And the rest of them?"

Erin sighed and looked at him and then pointed again. "That's Atwater's younger brother and sister. He's in Intelligence too. That's Kim. She's in patrol at the District. That's her niece. The rest of the kids are Fire. Those ones are Chris Herman's kids."

Justin made a sound. "Looks like he has enough for his own team."

"Just about," Erin muttered. "That's Gaby. She's Antonio's sister. She's fostering that little boy. And, that kid there. His mom was a detective who got killed on the job a couple months ago. So, you know."

"Ah, Pop and dead cops …"

She cast him a look. "He's a little boy who lost his mom," she put flatly. "I think we know what's that like and what it can do to a kid. He could use some distraction. And he's tight with Severide," she said and gestured. "He's on Squad in the House that serves our District. So …" she shook her had and just went back to gazing at the game.

"So Pop was serious last night when he said Eth doesn't have friends," Justin put far too matter-of-factly for her liking.

So she didn't even bother to look at him. "Ethan, had a rough year," she said. "He missed a lot of school. He's just starting to settle in."

"Yea, and Pops is so good 'bout letting us have friends," Justin muttered.

She did give him a look at that. "Your dad wants Ethan to have friends," she pressed at him. "Why do you think he's even doing this?"

Justin shrugged. "Hell if I know. Sure didn't do shit like this for us," he mouthed.

Erin just sighed at him and shook her head, going back to look at the diamond again. "Yea, J, we were so hard-done-by," she muttered.

Thankfully Ethan seemed completely oblivious to them standing there talking. There were enough kids there to have him distracted. Kids and baseball. And some of the other "kids" – the man-children that made up the First Responders in the District. It looked like the guys were having more fun than some of the kids with the excuse to baseball. They were almost being too competitive about it. Especially Herman, who seemed to have made himself the self-appointed coach of the non-existent teams. But Jay, Atwater, Ruzek and Severide were giving the actual kids a run for their money in terms of animation on the field. But at least almost everyone seemed to be smiling. Atwater's sister and Michelle looked a little bored but weren't being completely non-participatory. Though, Atwater's sister had wandered over to where Gaby and Louie were examining dandelions in the outfield. Apparently playing with a three-year-old and flowers … or weeds … looked a lot more interesting than baseball antics with the boys.

"Seriously," Justin said and gazed at her. "Either of us said we wanted a party and Pop would've burst that bubble."

She huffed and looked at him. "Your dad wanted to do this. Not Ethan. And Justin, it's just a fucking barbecue. He just didn't want to have people from work in his house and in back. We're at the park. It's not a big deal."

"Yea, still," Justin said. "Pop still wouldn't have—"

"Your Mom would've," she spat at him. "And your mom isn't here now, Justin. Is she? So your dad, he's trying his fucking best to be both to Ethan. He's doing the best he knows how. And, you know what? He doesn't have a fucking clue how to be a mom. He's still learning how to be a single parent. So give him a break. Just give them both a break."

He eyed her. "He's not exactly single parenting, is he?" he put to her.

She flared her nostrils and looked back to him. "I help him as much as he lets me, Justin," she said. "But I'm not Ethan's mom and I'm not trying to be his mom. I'm his sister. And that's how he treats me. It's how your dad treats me."

"Sure seemed like you and Halstead are trying to be more than that," he said.

She glared. "Well, Justin, maybe it's just our way of trying to help them both out. Giving your dad a bit of a break – and giving Ethan some support and structure."

"You all baby him," Justin put bluntly.

Erin let out a laugh at that and kept his eyes. "Justin, after you're back here, and if you decide to drop that fucking attitude and to actually help out and be a member of this family – then I'd be more than happy to talk all you want about if any of us baby him. But, right now, you can fuck off."

He snorted at her and looked back at diamond, nodding at Jay, who'd taken up the pitcher's mound. Erin had seen him cast a few glances their way. More than a few. He was clearly aware that her and Justin were talking – and was just waiting for some body language from her that would give him the opportunity to come over and get involved. Only that would be bad for everyone. Erin knew he was barely keeping it in line. He'd more than expressed that on the drive over to the park.

"So he's a member of the family, huh?" he asked.

Erin shrugged. "Don't know, Justin," she said sarcastically. "Are Olive and Henry members of our family?"

"I don't like him talking to E the way he was when he opened that fucking Rubik's Cube," Justin said in monotone, glaring across the field. Jay had caught the stare and was glaring right back between each and every pitch to the kids.

Erin rubbed at her eyebrow and just watched. Jay was trying to get a pitch lined up for Max but the kid was swinging like his arms were rubber and he was aiming for a pumpkin. They needed to get a tee-ball stand out for that kid to manage to intersect with a ball. Or maybe they should go back to the truck and pull out the bin of water balloons now. It'd be an excuse for her to walk away from this conversation.

"Well, Justin, I didn't hear your dad objecting to it."

"Yea, because, Pop's just trying to keep things all even-keel ahead of the move," Justin muttered.

"Ah, no," Erin said and cocked her head to look at him. "I think it has a lot more to do with the fact that Jay helped out this winter while our little brother was pretty fucking sick. And, he's sat and done homework with him. And he's cleaned up his vomit. And he's come to his Robotics games and his baseball games. And he's dealt with Eth at his worst and at his best. And has had all that kid's fucking little quirks and attitudes in between. And Jay gets that Eth needs tone to get things done and to keep him on track – and Jay's earned the privilege to be one of the people to talk to him that way. Maybe it's you that's lost that privilege and should be a little more focused on how to earn it back."

She pushed herself off the fence and started to walk away but looked over her shoulder. "You're supposed to be here for his birthday. You should be over helping Dad get the food ready or you should be out there playing with your brother. Not trying to pick a fight with me. And stop playing the part of the prodigal son. No one sees you that way, but you."

 **AUTHOR NOTE: SO I'm having trouble writing the chapters around the party. There is one that's important to the story that I haven't done yet. It's not writing well. I might hop around a bit and come back to it. Maybe do the Father's Day camping chapter or a Erin/Jay/Ethan at the cabin chapter or work on the little arc with Jay/Erin pregnancy/miscarriage again. Anyways. Just warning you to be prepared for things to jump around a bit again.**

 **Also, life is crazy lately so updates will be kind of sporadic for the next while. Things are going on.**

 **And, also, I wish I could write faster, because I have lots of predictions about the finale and the final scene/cliffhanger and the A Plot for next season. I actually "broke" the season in terms of A Plot and thematic strings of the season, if anyone wants such screenwriting talk, PM me, and I might send it along. I didn't do the B Plot or the Runner of the season, but they're pretty self-explanatory.**

 **I've had some people ask if I plan to do what the finale is likely going to do — particularly with Justin — in this story. For that, I definitely have a chapter planned, where I could potentially work in aspects of the anticipated Justin story, if the finale moves me to. It's a chapter with Hank and Olive, while Justin's gone out yet again with "friends". So I could easily work it in there.**

 **On the expectation that Justin is probably likely going to have another illegitimate child that will be added to the story in the series in some context … I'll have to see how that plays out. It could work but I'm not sure how much I care to add it. It could potentially add some interesting explorations in terms of tension and character backstory exploration. So we'll see what happens.**

 **As for the Hank on a revenge path — I feel like part of that I explored in Interesting Dynamics. I know that Interesting Dynamics just kind of stopped and I've thought about going back and resolving that string a bit with Anton Lee, his wife's death, Ethan getting injured. But I'm kind of meh on it.**

 **I do have another story arc coming up in scenes that involves someone from Hank's past putting his family in danger. So I might explore some of that there.**

 **However, I feel that in some ways some of the things that the writers seem to be setting up the finale — and next season with Hank taking over the A Plot of the over-arcing season — I've already explored. I think a lot of those feelings of revenge were set up in my stories because I decided to have his wife die in a retaliation rather than cancer. I knew they were going to go either way. I think since they didn't go with realization hit with her — they're pretty much obligated to do that now with Justin to open that door for exploration of Voight, his state of mind, his motivations and some more of his back-story. But I feel like I've sort of done some of that already. So for me, right now, it might be kind of redundant and uninteresting for me in terms of the writing of this AU.**

 **So, I might touch on some aspects of it within my own created arc — past acquaintance and family in danger. But I'm not sure I'm going to fully try to mirror and push forward where the finale leaves us for the summer.**

 **I think I have enough strings going on in Scenes that people find interesting and more scenes planned. So hopefully that's enough.**

 **But I guess we'll see what actually happens in the finale and how it moves me. And any feedback you give about what you're wanting or looking forward to in this story or future scenes is taken into some consideration as well.**

 **As always, reviews and feedback are much appreciated.**

 **Sorry this chapter is short and rushed. The party chapters just aren't writing the way I want them. So I think I'll try something else in the meantime. But hopefully this will have appeased everyone after the "extended gap" between postings.**


	100. Cooked

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES WAY BACK. IT GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 99 - Talking at Fences.**

"Mr. Voight," Voight heard demanded off him.

Sure wasn't used to being calling 'mister'. Not sure how much he liked it. Wouldn't say that "Mr. Voight" was his father because sure didn't think his dad had much liked the "mister" title either. Always had something else – something a bit more significant – attached to the name. But had also always thought that "Voight" – that name, his family name – that was an identifier enough. Carried more weight and more meaning than any of the other words that he'd had tacked in front of it over the years.

So hearing "Mr. Voight" was more than enough to make it like nails on a fucking chalkboard. Unfortunately the utterance was also being made with shrill pubescent crackling combined with nasal indignations that was clearly used to getting some sort of reaction at every one of its whiney demands. A fucking nightmare to deal with at home or in a classroom. No fucking doubt.

The fact that the voice-bearer's mother had pretty much run for the hills after off-loading him and that Mouse's lady-friend had given the kid a bit of a lax 'hello' and quickly grabbed onto Greg's elbow and toted him to the opposite side of the picnic shelter and soon after took a real big interest in getting water-guns pre-filled for the kids over at the bathrooms buildings was a pretty good indication that school and home had pretty much had enough of this Max kid.

Voight thought he was about at the point of having had enough off him too, as he turned from the grill – again - to near fucking plough into Max - again.

The kid just had no concept of space. He was getting more underfoot than a two-year-old. Turned around and he was there. Right there.

"Yea," Voight grunted at him, trying to avoid poking the damn kid in the face with his barbecue tongs. But maybe giving him a bit of a whipping might get him to take a step back because nothing else seemed to be.

"When's Ethan opening presents?" Max demanded.

Voight glanced over at the end of the one picnic table that was accumulating quite the pile of gifts for his kid. Hadn't really anticipated that. Wasn't that keen on it. Wasn't too big on his kid getting spoiled. He'd already gotten spoiled enough by his family as far as Voight was concerned.

Now half the District – people he was supposed to be supervising – were spoiling him too. Likely because they thought it was some sort of admission ticket to them being invited to this thing. But it wasn't. He was just so uneducated on the fucking kids' party thing the fact that anyone would bring his kid something hadn't really occurred to him.

Felt a little bad about it. Most of these guys and ladies didn't need to be sending money on his kid. Especially when he was pretty sure that a lot of it was going to end up being random crap that he'd have to store in his house or just take away from Eth anyways if it didn't fit in with the whole family rule structure.

Didn't really know what he was supposed to be doing with the stuff now that it was here either. Supposed there was going to have to be some sort of mandated time for Magoo to open it all. So far, though, he'd gotten away with just directing people to dump the stuff at the end of the table. No one seemed too bothered by that but Max, who had already asked about four times when Ethan would be opening the fucking presents.

Maybe he should just let him open them – or at least Max's – now to get it fucking over with. And pray to God that Magoo had an appropriate reaction that appeased Max about whatever it was that he had in the little parcel he'd brought along with him. But Voight suspected whatever it was, Max was going to want Ethan to open and play or interact with it immediately too. Maybe the damn kid might want to be taking whatever it was home with him too. That might not be a bad thing. Wasn't sure he wanted to know what this kid thought was an appropriate gift and what his mom had let him buy just to likely shut him up.

But, instead, Voight just grunted, "After we eat," and turned back to trying to watch the grill. Keep the sausages from turning into fucking charcoal. This kid and some of the other distractions going on around him was making that a bit of a chore.

"When are we doing the piñata?" Max demanded instead. This fucking kid.

"After we eat," Voight rasped at him again.

Had already tried giving the kid some warning looks. Some fuck off looks. Didn't work with this kid. Spectrum kid. Reading faces wasn't exactly his forte. Shouldn't talk, though. E sometimes wasn't so hot at picking up on the facial cues either. Or outright telling him to shut up. Always motoring his mouth off. But Voight had built up a tolerance to his own kid's meandering. This kid was just annoying the fuck out of him.

"Is there candy in the piñata?" Max blurted at him again. "Because you don't really have candy or dessert or anything good out to eat."

Voight cast him a look and glanced at the table. Figured most of the kids on site might raise their eyebrows at the food on offer. Wasn't exactly the processed junk that kids favored. Definitely wasn't exactly party food. Though, he'd mostly let E direct the menu and thought the kid had done a decent job of picking what he actually wanted for his birthday meal with stuff he could eat with things that were easy enough to throw out in a party-type situation that was somewhat kid friendly.

But maybe not so much. Had already seen Atwater browsing some of the cold offerings – veggies, chips, fruits and some fixings for nachos and the sausages when lunch did get put down. But he still heard him making some hushed comment to Ruzek and Burgess about the food. Heard Ruzek go, "Yea, I don't know, man, maybe he's vegan or something."

Atwater had given Voight some sort of indiscrete side look at that. But Burgess had looked at them both like they were retards. Deserved it. The two of them could both be pretty fucking regarded. The mental impairment seemed to just increase when they were next to each other in their mutual bromance. Why he couldn't pair them up on any regular basis. Seemed to lose fucking brain cells when they were supposed to be sharing them.

"He has dietary restrictions," Burgess had chastised them at an attempted whisper. But that girl – didn't know how to whisper. Her voice fucking carried.

"To eat like a rabbit?" Ruzek had muttered.

Burgess had given him the kind of look of knowing annoyance that you could only manage if you'd been sleeping with that person in the past and taken leave. Likely best. Her and Ruzek been too close to each other just raised the kind of tension and awkwardness that Voight hated. Whole reason that he hated in-house romances. Thought he fucking hated in-house love triangles even more. Fucking kids.

Still, funny watching some of the kids from his unit at this thing. Not kids. Adults. But the thing was with the job you really did get them while they were green. Not blue yet no matter what uniforms they'd been put in when they walked out of the Academy.

Good that way, though. To still get the Greenies. You got to groom them. Mould them into the real police. The kind that did the real work that the city needed. But did mean you started out with a lot of kids in grown-up bodies and tossed them to the sharks. Made them fucking swim or get ripped apart. Really forced them to grow up by traumatizing them along the way. See which ones rose to the occasion.

He'd been pretty lucky with the group he recruited. Ones that 'Tonio had brought in. Some promising talent Trudy had on Patrol that he could call up on occasion. Or more than on occasion with some of them. The ones that had some real potential.

But even with all that, the lot of them still provided some real fucking headaches. Made some major rookie mistakes. Charged around with chips on their shoulders and lack of experience and foresight to back it up. Some of them had their pants open a little too much. Fuck open. Some of them had their pants around their ankles. Then there were the ones who shook their ass too much.

The group of them - loud as fuck. Drew attention to themselves that he didn't care to listen to. Ran their mouths to get praise they didn't yet deserve. But, they were a decent group. Were growing up. That happened when you got kids right out of the Academy or just on the beat. Kids in their twenties – some in their early-thirties - and pushed them ahead. Challenged them.

Seeing them out of uniform, though – off the job - interacting with younger kids and the real little ones some of them had brought a long. Reminder of the maturity and immaturity still in all of them. Good, though. Nice. Some of them had come a long way. You could feel some pride in that. Adam. Greg. Kim. Lots of growth in the three of them. A lot. Still had a ways to go but could see they had bright futures. Would help bring in bright futures to the city. They'd been worth the effort.

That's just the way it had to be. Needed to see that. Feel it. Couldn't save everyone in the city. Couldn't fix everything. Couldn't even help as much as you wanted. But you did what you could. You hung onto the lives you did affect. Knew you'd done some good. Done what you could for your city – your community. And then you helped that along by making sure there were more people to do that after you. Getting them set up to be doing it in the future. And seeing those kids grow and push themselves and dedicate themselves to Chicago – that counted for a whole fucking lot too. Made it a bit easier when you couldn't fix something. Couldn't help that kid or arrest that perp or the fucking lawyers and justice system just handed out a 403 Set-Them-Free card as they passed go. Least you knew you'd helped by making sure there were people still around to help. To fight. Keep carrying that torch. Because Chicago – Chicago – city of salvages or not, it was fucking worth it.

So Voight invested himself in his team. Part of making them family. Part of carrying them along and part of letting them spin in the wind when they needed it too. All part of making sure they were ready. That they were his kids – his team – now but someday they'd be sitting in the office and shouting out the orders. They'd be the grown-ups in the room. For now, though – still his kids. And he needed to know what was going on with them before they knew what was going on with them. Be in tune with it as much as you could. So you could stop shit because things went to shit.

But you also had to keep a professional distance. Didn't shoot the shit with them. Buy them rounds at their fucking watering hole. That shithole Molly's. Didn't treat them to lunch or even a box of donuts. The jokers hadn't earned that.

Maybe they hadn't really earned this either. A fucking glimpse into his personal, private life. Usually best your underlings don't know too much about you. But at least it was giving him a glimpse into theirs too.

Bit of a reality check too, though, because some of them had only grown so much, based on their food commentary. So far he hadn't gotten a food commentary from any of the kids. Though, most of the kids were over on the ball diamond – not looking to stuff their faces already. Expect Max apparently. And, supposed, he was right, there wasn't no sweets or dessert out on the tables. Beyond the cake and 'ice cream' there wasn't going to be either.

But, he didn't know what was in the piñata. Doubted it was candy, though. Still when he'd picked up the damn thing and made a comment about how much it weighed, Halstead had put to him, "You'd be amazed what you can fill a piñata with that meets Eth's requirements, if you're willing to spend a third of a pay check and a to drive all around Chicago."

Voight had just smacked at that and cast his girl an unimpressed look. But she was ignoring him. Heavily. She was in the midst of tying balloons at the end of one picnic table.

Voight had thought his son was a little old for that but Erin had given him some line about "channeling Nadia" so he'd shut up about it. Besides, watching H's fascination with the things and yanking at the ribbons to pull the things down made whatever she'd spend on the damn things worth it. The horrified look that had painted across Henry's face when he'd yanked one down enough to eye level that he got a T-Rex growling in his face had made the purchase more every fucking penny. Wished someone had had a camera on the ready when that had happened.

"You're mom said she didn't want you eating too much junk," Voight grunted at Max.

"Yea, but she always says that and she's not here," Max had pressed at him.

No fucking kidding. Shoulda seen the hasty retreat she'd made when she'd dropped the kid off. Laid down some orders, asked about the latest she could pick him up and had fucking disappeared.

Voight got the impression she more than needed a break from the kid and this had been cast as a babysitting service more than a birthday party in her books. But he'd supposed he'd take it. At least it was a kid that Magoo sort of spent time with in school and had invited to the thing. Kid about his age.

Hard to believe Max was a year ahead of Eth, though. He sure came across younger despite being built like a bulldozer. Maybe it was better that the kid was over bugging him because he wasn't sure how his lack of spatial awareness would do if he was over goofing around with the littler kids that had been dragged to the event by colleagues and associates in the attempt to make it look a bit more like a party. Still wasn't much of one.

Poor E hadn't had much luck in the invite department. Hurt Voight a bit. Knew his kid came across as a little odd in social situations. Knew that the scars on his face – that mangled ear - scared some kids off and made Magoo retreat from others. Made him shy – self-conscious – that was just getting worse now that he was in middle school and he was seeing other kids start puberty and feeling like he was even more of a little mutant as he continued to lag behind. Too much attention – in E's mind – already being given to him. The appearance of the crutches hadn't really helped with that. Niether had the general fact he'd been away "sick" a lot that year. All of it had just combined to yield a big zero in the making friends department.

Kids that age didn't quite get it. And they were pretty fucking good at being cruel. His boy was tough – thick skinned – had worked real hard on teaching him to be that way. To take the lot of the shit that kids said as part off his back. But Voight knew words hurt and Magoo didn't really have the bulk to him to be fighting back. Didn't really want to be dealing with a bruiser anyways.

It was just that Voight had really hoped E would've settled into his class and Ignatius enough that he would've made some more friends than Max. That Robotics would've gotten him some buddies. That hadn't really happened when most of the kids on the team were high school kids. They didn't want too much to do with a middle schooler no matter what he'd managed to contribute to the team and their rankings. So had thought he'd make some buddies at the boxing gym too. But it was the same of the kids on the Junior League were older than him. And Magoo really only went over any more when Voight forced him to. Even Voight admitted that he used it more as an after-school babysitting service on the days E didn't have something else on the go than some sort of training program.

Had really only left the kids in the neighborhood for E to connect with that year. But that hadn't happened either. Had thought that might happen when he first got home but then his boy had fallen sick and hadn't much felt like trying to keep up with those kids. Had been pretty embarrassed and unsure about everything he was dealing with too to be facing other kids last summer. And the few baby steps that had happened had been guided by little Holly Prokop who'd gotten way too big for her breaches with the whole teen girl Mean Girl routine. So E's tiny connections with the kids in the neighborhood had frayed even more since him and Holly had their falling out. Wasn't too upset about that. Didn't need teen-aged bullshit creeping into his house that close to home and didn't necessarily need his kid running wild in the community either. Had to admit that some of the boys in the neighborhood looked like they were headed in the wrong places.

It was just that Voight knew a boy his age needed buddies. Important time to have friends. The right kinds too. Good influences. Good connections. People who held you up and stood by you. Didn't drag you down or kick you when you were down. Start making that family you choose rather than the one you're born into. Just as important as any genetics in the long run.

Had to hope that maybe this baseball thing would work out. Still early in. But hopefully by the end of the season the kids would be a real team. Good buddies. Keep in touch throughout the year and not just during ball season. That E would still see them around at other RIC stuff. That he would've gotten in thick with them enough that he'd want to do some more of the programming they offered over at the Center. Maybe pick up another sport. Would love it if E decided he had any interest in the sledge hockey. That looked like it'd be a fun one to go out to. Good team. But at least hopefully he'd get some invites to go do kid stuff with some of the team after playing ball with them. Hang out or whatever the fuck kids wanted to call it anymore.

Had to hope that the kids in that situation – on that kind of team, patients at that kind of Rehab Center - would be a bit more accepting and tolerant of his boy too.

Maybe he could delude himself temporarily into thinking that kids going through RIC programming and dealing with the kid of bullshit that life had handed to them wouldn't be wandering down too many roads of bad choices. But kids were kids. Did dumb shit. Didn't matter what other labels they had attached them. Still would be a lot of dumb ass choices in E's future. No doubt.

So Voight had really nudged – near forced – E to handing out some invites to the cookout to some of the kids at ball. Figured who better to come to an afternoon of tossing and batting some balls around than kids who already made that their pastime. But so far only one kid had shown out of the lot that had been given the invites. Supposed one was better than none, though.

Cute little thing. This little firecracker of a girl. Played short-stop on the team and had seen her doing some sassing at Ethan in the dugout. Voight was OK with that. His boy needed some sassing. And E was used to it. His sister did a whole lot of sassing at him too. Likely what his son had come to expect out of women. Though, this was still a little girl. Ethan's age. So that was nice.

Didn't have a clue what her story was. Kept out of that when he sat in the bleachers. But had finally got a glimpse of it that afternoon. Girl had a prosthetic leg. Always in leggings at ball, but shorts that day. Her artificial leg all decorated up. Didn't tell Voight much about what she'd gone through to end up like that, though. He didn't much care.

Did care that E had lit up when he'd seen her coming over with a little wrapped gift in hand. And the two of them were giving a real good show over on the diamond now. Kid finally had someone at his play level. Or at least a kid at his play level.

Some of the guys from District and 51 had been over trying to play. Or at least compliment some of the inadequacies of the field being mostly populated by seven year olds.

Funny to watch from a distance. Fucking grown men playing against little kids. Seemed like the kids weren't doing so bad. Holding their own. Keeping the adults in check. Not that it looked like Ruzek or Mouse or Halstead's brother were any real competition for the kids. Especially when it looked like Herrmann had appointed himself coach of the adults. Erin and Halstead had been taking more of a tutorage approach with some of the kids. That was more the way Voight preferred it. Stand back and let kids be kids.

Wished Justin would go and get in the mix. Unfortunately J was really standing back.

Had loitered around the picnic shelter for a while doing a whole lot of nothing until Voight had barked at him that he could fucking lay out some of the cold food and condiments. Get shit set up so it wasn't a fucking free-for-all amid the chaos when they called the kids over for their feeding.

Had ended up being Olive who'd done most of it, though. She'd been putting forward offers to help just about every step of the way when really she only needed to be worrying about Henry.

Figured that her and Henry should have a bit of a chance to interact with some of the other little ones that had come out. Manning and her little guy had showed up with Halstead's brother. Herrmann's wife had their toddler bouncing around. Little princess there. Figured that it would be Herrmann who'd ended up with such a glowing little girl. Hopefully it'd be the last one. Guy wasn't that much younger than him. Got the sense that him and the wife must've kept trying until they finally got their girl. Ended up with a bit of a litter because of it. Cami would've liked that, though. Really – if they'd hit their magic number four, they would've been just one shy of what Herrmann and his wife had ended up with. But three was more than enough in Voight's opinion. Sometimes he wondered what the fuck him and Camille were ever thinking with wanting four. Young, dumb and in love. Only children. They hadn't had a clue what they were hoping for in their family planning – dreaming really. Happy with that they'd got.

Dawson had come with his sister and her new ward. Ridiculously cute little guy there. Still so shy, though. Unsure. One of the saddest faces you've ever seen even at just three years old. But kids who'd been through things that boy had likely been through had those faces. Carried that weight. Hopefully he had a better a future ahead of him now. Hard to tell. Gaby hadn't come with Casey. But supposed that was to be expected. Him and Matt Casey still gave each other a pretty wide breadth. Figured that she was more there for some sort of company and moral support for 'Tonio than a party or playdate for Louis. Company in case Diego didn't come for the cake drop-off or didn't stay.

Voight could see him watching for his wife and boy. Looked more anxious about it than Voight even - and his cautious expectations about the cake. Hadn't heard that it was a disaster or inedible but he wasn't sure that anything that E could eat that was classified as dessert would be that edible.

J apparently wasn't that interested in socializing with the other folks who had little kids, though. Had disappeared.

Taken a while but Voight eventually spotted him over by the diamond. Just watching. Sure wished he'd get on the field and play with his brother. Show some interest. Put some effort in. Voight didn't really see the point in J coming home for the weekend if he was going to stay on the sidelines. Just mouth off at his brother. Make things tense and awkward for the rest of them. Carry that attitude with him that just served to piss Voight off.

Had really hoped that J would use the trip home to mend some fences with both his siblings. He really needed to. Erin had waved the white flag. Least Justin could do was politely participate in the armistice. It'd be even better if he could fucking figure out how to start building his relationship with E before he got home in the fall. Show some fucking interest. Get into this whole ball thing. Make some plans with E – either for the summer or for the fall. Get him a bit more excited about his brother being home rather than him stewing about it being the shitshow that it was likely going to be.

But so far that just didn't seem to be on Justin's agenda. He just couldn't seem to relate to any of it. Kept himself at such a distance. Or purposely made moves – comments, body language – to make the rest of his family hold him there.

Voight was fucking acutely aware that that afternoon part of it might be that Halstead was out on the mound pitching to the kids. Justin seemed to have it in his thick skull that there was some sot of competition between the two of them. Some fucking competition for Ethan's affections. Some fucking competition with his sister for her affection and respect and some fucking jealousy about her relationship with E too. But it was all such bullshit. Voight struggled with how to relate to it. How to manage it. He hadn't had siblings to have to deal with that shit. To know how to deal with it. To have to understand it. What he did understand was that dealing with it when the kids were still kids was one thing. Dealing with it when two of the kids were fucking adults now was a-fucking-other and he hated it.

Hated it more because he wasn't about to say some shit to Erin or to Halstead about taking a step back. Because they'd both worked real hard to establish their relationship with Magoo. Had dealt with the crap that is being an older sibling to earn getting to be the goofballs that the little brother wanted to play with too. You had to take the good with the bad. And they had. And E needed them. Voight fucking needed them and their help with Magoo too. So he wasn't about to go and step on their toes so Justin could get his rocks off. Because Justin would likely just end up throwing those fucking rocks and smashing the fucking windows again. And again, and again.

Reality was too for as much of a competition that Justin seemed to frame this as – him against Erin or him against Halstead - Voight didn't think Magoo quite saw it that way. E wanted a relationship with his brother. Wanted his fucking big brother to want to spend time with him and talk to him and take him out to do shit and be in the stands to cheer him on and to just be around to give him advice. But that wasn't he way it was right now. Wasn't even sure if it was something Justin could handle right now. So what E saw was that Halstead was there. He was around. He did sit in the stands. Talk to him, hang out with him. It was what it was and it was what the now looked like. And, soon enough, if Justin wanted it to be – if he was willing to work at it and take the good with the bad – it could be him who was just as involved and engaged too.

Part of that, though, was he was going to have to stop acting however the fuck he was acting. Like he was still a kid. Not a man – a husband, a father, a solider. Stop being the little brother and be the big brother to the baby brother who was already growing up real, real quick. Justin was going to have missed it all if he didn't figure out how to fix it soon. Pull up his fucking socks. And stop being so fucking scared about … whatever. Fucking M.S.? Crutches? Scars? Fatigue? Pain? A limp? A tremor? Voight didn't fucking know. Where people placed blame about any of that? Thought Justin put too much thought into where blame lay when no one else did. None of his family blamed him for any of it. Not the brain damage. Not their mom being gone. And sure as fuck not M.S. None of it was his fault. And as much guilt as Voight took on himself – it wasn't his fault either. Not any of those aspects of their fucking family dynamic.

But working through any of that was fucking hard when the kid was always fucking sticking his foot in his mouth and he sure thought he must've gone and said something stupid to Erin again. Had seen them looking some pissed at each other leaning against the fence. Then Erin had taken off.

She'd disappeared for a bit at that point. Wasn't sure where she'd gotten off too. Didn't think she'd completely bail out on the cookout. Not without letting him and Ethan know. More mature than that. And wouldn't disappoint her brother that way. Would've needed to be real bad for it to have come to a full-on bailout. And figured he would've seen and heard more fireworks if that was what had happened. But he was starting to wonder where she'd gotten off to.

In his scanning the park, though, he finally spotted who'd 'Tonio had been looking for. Glad for that. Was starting to think that something hadn't gone according to plan with the cake.

"Mouch," Voight barked over his shoulder. Mouch giving him stunned eyes and pulling a carrot back from his mouth like he'd done something wrong. That guy always looked at him like he was expecting fire to rain down on him. Got into the wrong profession. "Man this for me," he gestured.

"Ahhh ….," he bumbled. Sometimes he just didn't know what Trudy saw in this guy. Got that after you hit a certain stage in your life there was something to be said just for having company and someone to be around – look after you some – in your old age. But the guy was so timid, he should be the one adopting Greg's moniker. Trudy likely walked all over him. But maybe that was his thing. Not sure how much a guy like that needed a woman to keep him in line, though. Bachelor like that, though, likely needed a woman for other reasons. Didn't want to know what that guy's apartment had looked like. Especially his kitchen or fridge. Almost surprised he knew what a carrot was.

"Randy, go," Trudy nudged at him.

"Ahhh …," he bumbled again but put down his plate. Voight smacked as he noticed that the guy had been using one of the branded paper plates – a Cubs one. The ones that had been reserved for the kids. But held his tongue on commenting – since he was Trudy's. "Ahh… sure," he said again as he came over and looked nervously at the grill. A fucking firefighter who'd never manned a grill before? Perfect. "I can do that."

Voight gazed at him. Wasn't sure he was buying that now. But handed him the utensils anyway. "Don't burn them," he rasped and started to walk across the grass to meet up with where he saw Laura and Diego coming from. Had hardly stepped out of the shelter when Trudy was already over at Mouch's side. Suspected she'd be taking over the grill duties. Pretty clear who wore the pants in that relationship.

"Hey," Voight offered in small greeting as he approached them.

"Hi," Laura offered somewhat cautiously, giving him a thin smile.

"Thanks so much for this," Voight offered, gesturing at the boxes the two of them were carrying.

"Not a problem," Laura allowed and gave Diego a little nudge. Kid was acting a little shy. "Show him."

The kid fidgeted with the lid on the cake box and lifted it to show him, revealing a cake all done up like a ball glove.

"Oh, wow," Voight said and shot the kid a smile. "Look at you, Cake Boss," he added and gave the kid a light nudge to the shoulder. Diego got an even more bashful look at that but could see the pride there. Liked the attention. Liked the acknowledgement of the work and the skill involved. Good for him. Kids needed that. Deserved it.

"So that one's free of everything on the list," Laura said and then opened up her box to reveal a bunch of cupcakes decorated like baseballs. "These are just normal cupcakes. We weren't sure how many people you'd have or how well Ethan's cake would go over with some of the kids."

"It's really good," Diego interjected. "They'll like it."

"Oh, yea?" Voight gave him a smile. "You taste test it?"

The kid gave another shy shrug. "We tried some of the prototypes to see which tasted best. This one's definitely the best. You can't even tell that it's not real cake."

"Oh, yea?" he said, giving Laura an appreciative look.

"We had quite the adventure in food science and baking chemistry," she said.

"Hmm …," Voight acknowledged. "Can imagine. Didn't know where to start."

"Well, we had fun," she said and gave Diego her own little nudge."

Voight gestured over to the shelter. "Going to come and take part in the official taste test? Be pulling lunch off the grill soon. Your dad's over there. Your aunt."

Diego looked up at his mom with big hopeful eyes. He could see the hesitation in Laura, though. But he also saw some more movement across the grass behind her and ended up just gesturing at the shelter again, looking briefly in the hopes to catch Dawson's eyes so he could come over and retrieve his own family.

"Just got to excuse me for a second," he said. "I'll be right over to get squared up."

He stepped around them and closed some distance to a woman and her son walking across the park. Recognized the kid as one of the pitchers from Eth's team but they were acting a little lost or out of place.

"You lookin' for Ethan's birthday?" he said. The woman gave him a look but the kid nodded. So Hank just pointed over to the shelter. "We're set up over here," he provided. "Most of the kids are already out on the field," he added with a gesture to the diamond.

The kid hesitated but the woman gave him a nudge. "Go on," she encouraged. "Have fun."

The kid let out such a sigh that Voight wasn't so sure he wanted to be there. But he started to trudge over.

He watched the kid for a second. So did the woman. But then she turned back to Voight.

"You're Ethan's dad?"

"Yea," he acknowledged and stuck out a hand. She took it. "Hank Voight." She just nodded and shifted her eyes back to watch her kid. "You're …"

She gave him a glance. "Evan's mom," she said. "Gwen. Hatley."

"Mmm…," Voight acknowledged.

"Sorry," she said and shook her head, pulling her eyes away from her kid. "Evan doesn't like going out much since …," she said with a gesture at her son like it was all the explanation that was needed. Supposed that the gesture had something to do with the fact the kid was missing some fingers on his one hand and had the tell-tale scars and indentations on his arm suggestive of some skin and muscle grafting. Looks of him – neck, throat, forehead, poking through shaggy haircut – suggested he definitely had some other scarring and surgery going on in his recent past. "I kind of forced him to come. It's the first invite he's had to anything since …." Again with the 'since', but then she added, "we moved to Chicago."

"Mmm …," Voight allowed and cast her a more careful examination. Figured that move might still be connected to the 'since'. Kid needed medical care, better rehab, access to more programming and facilities. "Where'd you move from?"

"Springfield," she allowed. "Work. Thought we could use a new start."

"What you do for work?" he asked, giving her another once-over and then looking back to the field to weigh her kid again. He'd gotten over to the field but hadn't been spotted by any of the kids yet. Hanging out by the fence.

"State's Attorney's Office," she said and cast him a look. "Don't worry. Juvenile Division. I heard you were a cop."

He smacked. Wasn't much for lawyers. Didn't matter who they worked for or what they did. So he looked back to the field. Erin had reappeared, though, and seen him. Gone over to talk to him. Looked like she'd gone and retrieved – and filled – a bunch of the water balloons and was gauging the kid's interest level in getting in on tossing the first few. Shifting from baseball to waterball. Or water war. Or whatever the fuck Eth had his heart set on that afternoon.

"Well that will keep you busy," he rasped flatly. Likely an understatement in Chicago. Whole lot of shit passing through Juvenile. Lots of problems and lots of history and a real uphill battle to deal with any of it. To try to help some of the good kids. A lot of them where good kids who just got involved with some of the bullshit that made up the war going on on their streets. It was a whole lot of trying to find – to put away – that bad apple that was ruining the whole bunch. Tough process though and meant that a lot of kids ended up tossed into situations – into lock up – who really shouldn't have been there, who'd do better somewhere else because being in there was just going to rot them even more. Not make things better. Not fix the problems that already existed. Fucking tangled knot.

"It does," she allowed and looked over at the shelter. "Are other parents staying?" she asked.

"Mmm…," Voight allowed and glanced over at the shelter. "Really more of a work thing than a birthday party."

"Oh …," she said and gazed at the field and Erin's efforts to coax the kid into participating. "I'm really not sure how long he'll want to stay. I know he likes Ethan. At least as his catcher. But …"

Voight allowed a little nod. Understood. All to well. So wouldn't hold what she did too far against her. Wouldn't make her accountable for other people's failings. Or the system's failings as a whole.

"Sure," he rasped and gestured in the direction of the shelter.

"All cops?" she asked, following him.

He grunted and shook his head. "Cops, firefighters, doctors, nurses, school teachers. Real motley crew. Just the kind of Chicago people you don't want to be associating with."

She allowed him a thin smile. "I was actually only warned against associating with you."

Voight smacked at her again, giving her a small glare. "Don't believe everything you hear."

She shrugged. "A lawyer never does," she said. "And I decided to measure you against your son. For now."

"Hmm," Voight allowed, giving her another look. "Ethan's a tough act to measure up to."

"Well, I'm going to hope he got that from somewhere," she said and gave him a look.

One he wasn't too sure about. But he'd long ago learned to take anything that came out of a lawyer's mouth with more than a grain of salt.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: So that was a chapter I meant to write along time ago as an introduction to Evan and his mom. Didn't write exactly the way I wanted or had planned but wanted to get the characters introduced a bit better for some upcoming chapters.**


	101. Porch Swing

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER TALKING AT FENCES.**

Erin jumped as the door on the back porch clattered open. Her body instinctively moving away from Jay's – and his mouth, and that smell and taste of him. He was a mix of him – man – and sunscreen and grease sprayed lightly from the few minutes that Hank had actually deferred to letting him manning the grill when he'd had to turn away for a moment and leather of baseballs and gloves and sweat from the hot day and physical activity and a whiff of latex in there somewhere from their handling of water balloons. He tasted of barbecue as much as he smelled of it. Though, there was some icing and ice cream mixed somewhere in there – underneath the beer he'd been swigging at on the back porch since they'd gotten back to Hank's and planted themselves out there – in the quiet and the privacy. Or at least he'd been swigging at it until they'd started making out – likely ill-advised. Because clearly the privacy and the quiet was limited – especially with the unimpressed look Hank was casting in their direction right then. She felt like she was a teenager again – caught necking in the backyard, on Hank and Camille's porch swing, which was clearly only reserved for their own couple talks and necking, not their children's. Not that she'd ever say that to Hank – but that was pretty much the fact of the matter.

But Hank didn't say anything. He had the phone plastered to his ear and he disappeared back inside as quickly as he'd appeared outside.

"Well, we just landed on his shit list," Jay said flatly. "Again."

Erin shrugged. "He doesn't care."

Jay cocked his eyebrow at her. "Oh, that look said he cares. So does the how fast you moved to the opposite side of the bench."

She tilted her head at him. "I did not move that fast."

"Oh, yes, you did," Jay nodded.

She shook her head and rested her elbow on the back of the bench, staring at him. The shifted centered of gravity caused it to tilt and swing gently again. Jay let it – helped it along with his own sway and push of his knees – even though his legs were more than long enough to firmly stop the swing and plant it in its place.

"We've done worse here," she said. "He doesn't care."

"I know we've done worse – and he does care," Jay provided again.

She rolled her eyes. "If he even knows."

Jay looked at her more seriously. "He knows," he said.

And he was likely right. It wasn't like they rubbed it in Hank's face that they went at it in his house on occasion. Just a few times. But it wasn't exactly like they hid it at that point either.

Hank knew that Jay slept over sometimes. He knew that they were up in Erin's room. In her bed. With the door closed.

But they were always careful. Mostly because they didn't want to be disrupted by Ethan. And because Hank's house lacked in doors with locks. Everyone understood that Ethan catching them in the act would be pretty mortifying for everyone. Things that couldn't be unseen. A game changer. Hank would be unimpressed.

He was likely unimpressed as it was. But they'd never done anything in front of him. Beyond him catching them – fleetingly – just now and him occasionally seeing them sitting on the same couch or exchanging a squeeze of the hands or a hook of a finger, Erin didn't think he'd seen much since they'd exchanged a peck in front of him on Christmas morning. And, she supposed, that time she'd ventured down to the kitchen in her underwear to see what Jay was doing for breakfast. That had broken multiple Hank Rules and Boundaries.

But beyond that one time – just that one time – they'd never actually had sex in the house while he was there.

And even though she knew that Hank likely wasn't entirely impressed with the situation – or that it was happening under his roof – he hadn't said much of anything. There'd been some looks. Some smacks. Some passing Hank-isms to express his displeasure and stance on the matter. But he hadn't laid down the law. He hadn't said, "Not in my house." Because Erin thought they all understood the situation.

Her and Jay were there a lot. They were helping him out a lot. And Ethan. And they wanted to be there. But being there meant they didn't get a lot of alone time. They didn't get a ton of privacy at their own places in their own space. So, as long as they kept the professional, professional and the personal, personal – they were dealing with the rest of the boundaries and grey areas and managing to refrain from comment. Even if it wasn't an ideal situation for anyone involved.

It wasn't exactly like Hank's house made for a love den. Or that being up in her teen-aged bedroom on a lumpy mattress that was likely older than her really screamed romance. Or that having her baby brother sleeping in the room across the hall. Or halfway listening for Hank to come back in the front door – which was sometimes a bit of a feat considering how lightly that man could move – made for particularly hot sex.

But it was what it was. As Hank liked to say about pretty much any of the hardships and compromises you ended up dealing with in life.

So she shook her head. "OK. Then we're all adults. And, I don't care that he knows or that he just saw us … what? Kissing? Who cares?"

Jay sighed and let his arm hang over the back of the bench too. "I do," he says. "It's a respect thing."

She snorted at him. Sometimes he could be so harsh about Hank and his moral code. Other times Jay's was just as blinding – and binding. It was all about respect. And like Hank or hate Hank, Jay seemed to feel he demanded respect. Because he did. And Jay seemed fairly committed to respecting that. The two of them could be pretty old-fashioned in certain areas. Almost hypocritical. And this was one of those times.

She jabbed her finger in his shoulder. He gave her a mock hurt look and grabbed at the spot, batting her hand away.

"You're the one who initiates it half the time," she told him bluntly.

"Ah, yeah, half the time," he said. "Because maybe I have to initiate it here half the time because I have to spend more than half my time time here if I want to see you outside of work. It doesn't mean I particularly like the concept of necking in your dad's house. Especially when he's my boss."

"Necking?" Erin cocked her eyebrow at him. "I didn't realize you were such a prude about just some making out, Jay."

"You know what I mean," he insisted.

"Well, you usually seem pretty OK with the 'concept' of it," she muttered. "And, I'm pretty sure Hank's figured out we have sex."

"And, I'm pretty sure that if you ever get pregnant, that Voight will want to pretend that you immaculately conceived rather than acknowledge I had anything to do with it," Jay said.

Erin let out an amused sound and swung her foot, planting it on the porch to give it a bigger propulsion, to get the swing to rock some more.

"You think he thinks Olive immaculately conceived?" she teased, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I think he thinks Justin and Olive were fucking idiots," Jay said bluntly and Erin hushed at him, giving him a glare. It was a hot night and there was a breeze. All the windows were open in the house – and her bedroom, the one that Justin and Olive and Henry occupied on their visits – was directly above them. The last time they'd been in the house, the three of them had been headed upstairs to start with Henry's bath and getting him down for the night. Seeing as they hadn't been ordered back inside to visit, Erin assumed that they were still up there – and likely overhearing all of this conversation. "And," he said a bit more evenly and quietly, "that it's different with sons than with daughters."

"Ah …," she nodded and rolled her eyes a bit. "So the sons can have as much sex as they want but the engaged daughter? Just … that makes her a harlot, right?"

Jay cocked his eyebrow with some annoyance at her. "Umm, no," he clarified. "I think it's more that dads know what guys are like and don't want them touching his little girl."

Erin snorted and really rolled her eyes at that. "Pretty sure I can take care of myself," she said.

"Mmm," Jay shrugged. "Think your dad would agree with you on that?"

She gave him a firmer glare. "I think Hank can't tell me who I hang out with in my personal time."

"Sure," Jay agreed. "What about when that personal time and hanging out is at his house, though?"

She gave him a grin. "So what you're saying is that you don't want to get laid tonight?"

"Umm, no, no, no," Jay shook his head. "What I'm saying is he saw us and he did care. But! Big but … we aren't staying here tonight anyways."

"Unless you wanted to defile his couch again," she provided.

"That was you who did the defiling," he said.

"I'm pretty sure you were involved," she said.

He smiled at her – that little boy grin – and took his turn to rock the swing. They just sat like that for a bit. Letting the swing sway under their weight. Jay stared at her but her eyes drifted over his shoulder and through the window of the house.

The kitchen was still all lit up and she could see the low light radiating out of the front room. It meant that Ethan was likely still up and watching television – even though it was past his usual lights out and he was clearly exhausted from the day. But he'd been buzzing – all day. And Hank had likely let him stay up since it was the weekend and it was his birthday and the Cubs were playing. Ethan was pretty low maintenance when baseball was on TV – especially if it was the Cubs. But really any game could grab his attention for hours and it was far less annoying white noise in the background than one of his dinosaur shows or Star Wars cartoon or whatever other teeny-bopper drama kids watched these days that he was only ever allowed to watch until Hank watched it with him and deemed it completely unrealistic smut that wasn't going to be viewed in his house.

It was getting late, though. The game should be just about over. And she hadn't seen any movement that indicated Justin and Olive had come back downstairs, so she was starting to wonder if they'd both just decided to hid upstairs and no come back down after getting Henry to fall asleep. But they were both likely tired from the day too – and the drive the night before. Henry had kept them busy. Or at least he'd kept Olive busy – and Hank. He was right – Henry really was a going concern. She was sure by the time they were settled back in Chicago, all of them would be running to keep up with him as he got steadier and steadier on his feet. Even at the park with his unsteady toddle he'd been trying to keep up with some of the older kids. Uncle Ethan and he'd taken a bit of a shining to Gaby's little Louie there. Not that they'd stayed too long because Louie seemed pretty unsure about the rest of them. Way too much activity for his little head to deal with after so much insecurity in his formative years.

But Erin hadn't even seen movement from Hank yet. But it might've been a short call and she'd missed him reappear from the basement and head back into the front room. He might be sitting watching the game with Ethan – likely waiting on the hope that he'd get something that resembled a real visit with his son. Though, Erin was starting to think it was more likely that he was still in the basement with the phone to his ear and something might be hopping.

She let out a little sigh at that and felt Jay's eyes rest on her more steadily. So she joined his line of sight.

"You OK?" he asked, reaching out and resting his hand against the knee she'd pulled up under herself.

"Yea," she nodded. "I just haven't seen him come back upstairs yet. Wondering if we might've caught something."

Jay glanced behind himself through the window, squinting. "Likely would've been a short call if we had a scene," he provided.

"Mmm …" she shrugged. She supposed he had a point. She hoped he was right. She didn't really feel like working that night. It'd been a busy day.

He smacked at her thigh. "Don't dwell on it until we actually get a call," he said.

She gave him a thin smile and rested her chin against her arm along the back of the bench. "I'm beat," she said.

"Too much sun," Jay said, rocking the swing again.

She shrugged. "Maybe," she allowed. "Pretty fun, though. Right?"

He smiled a bit more brightly at that and rested his own chin against his arm on the back of swing. "Absolutely," he agreed, eyeing her gently.

"Gaby's got her hands full," Erin muttered.

Jay pulled a bit of a face. "Yea, that's all kind of crazy."

Erin shrugged a little. She didn't know she thought it was crazy. How could she? Who was she to judge? Isn't what Hank did crazier? How different was him and Camille taking her in? It was actually probably a whole lot messier and crazier in a lot of ways. But they'd saved her. Maybe Gaby would save Louie too – while he still had a childhood ahead of him. When he still had a good fighting chance to live a more normal life and to feel some love and security in it. Everyone deserved that.

"I don't know. People have to do it. Maybe Louie is lucky to have found her," she said.

"And maybe there's such a thing as having too much empathy," he said. "You leave nothing for yourself."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "You want me to careless? About what? Who? Ethan?"

Jay sighed at her. "That's not what I said. I just … you gave a lot of yourself for today to go the way it did."

"And Ethan had a good time," Erin provided.

"Did you?" he put to her bluntly.

She sighed and buried her chin further into her bicep while she thought about that.

It hadn't been a perfect day. Far from it. It'd had its rough moments. Tomorrow likely would too if she came back by for more family time. But it'd been nice too. It'd been fun. And she was focusing more on that – the smiles and laughter – than she was the tension and the arguing. Her family was always going to have that. It was just the way it was. There was way too much scar tissue. There wasn't a plastic surgeon in the world who could deal with that scarring and have them come out looking like the Brady Bunch.

"Yea," she nodded. "I did." She gave him a thin smile. "Watching him play with those kids and seeing the look on Justin's face when he realized they weren't 'cripples' playing wheelchair baseball."

"Yea, well," Jay shook his head. "That kid. The pitcher."

"I know," Erin nodded.

That kid was incredible. She found herself memorized by his pitching at Ethan's games. But being out there on the field with the kids that afternoon, she'd found herself staring almost inappropriately at the boy who wasn't much older than Ethan. But his skill and the way he was still managing it despite his disability was … a feat. He was going to go places. She'd been a little surprised that one of the places he apparently was deciding to go was Ethan's birthday party. But it'd been great for Ethan. It'd added a different level of play on the diamond – for everyone to see. And really, ever catcher needed a pitch. A real one.

"And Eth's arm behind the plate," Jay nodded firmly at her – like she was the one who needed to be told.

But Ethan was proving his skills as a catcher just as much as that kid on the mound was proving he could still throw a ball. Watching Ethan play the position actually made her wonder why the coaches in Little League and his boarding school's junior varsity had been so opposed to letting him try out the spot. Because he was left-handed? That didn't seem to matter on this team. And neither did the fact that he had a leg brace, crutches, glasses, a brain injury or zero peripheral vision out of his one eye. No one cared. And Ethan didn't seem to be letting it stop him from playing the game – or diving into the position head on. If anything, she'd seen how it had helped him regain some of his balance and his core strength. She could see it in the way he walked and the way he held himself. And it was sure as fuck helping with his concentration and strategic thinking too. Him anticipating things and working out problems and solutions. It was helping him and it was forcing him to help himself.

"Hank's reaction when that ball popped off Eth's bat."

Jay nodded and made a sound with just his tongue in his cheek that near matched that metallic pop as Ethan hit one out of the park and didn't seem to give two shits that anyone was there looking at him who might not be used to his disabilities. He'd still grabbed his crutches from behind the plate and hauled ass around all the bases, coming back to his dad holding out a hand for a high five. It'd been the first homer that Eth had hit that season and the sound had just echoed to the point that Hank had vocally made a sound that gave away how impressed he was with the arc and trajectory of that ball.

"You," Erin added and nudged his knee with hers. "When Max finally fucking hit that water balloon."

Jay smiled at that. He hadn't been expecting it – he'd lobed so many at the kid unsuccessfully. And then this wild rubber-band swing had caused the water balloon to completely explode in Jay's face.

"He wasn't supposed to do that," Jay said, shaking his head at her.

She shrugged and smiled some more. "I know. Eth seeing that he had a real cake and real ice cream. I mean … can you remember being that excited about cake and ice cream? I bet if we compare Henry's reaction next month to today's pictures – the look on their faces are going to be the same," she let out a little giggle.

"Fucking Ruzek and the piñata," Jay provided for her, tracing some fingers along her forearm.

Erin just shook her head at that vision again. "Yeah, good job, buddy," she muttered. He was such a big kid. Though, he'd nearly taken some of the real kids out with a baseball bat in his blindfolded efforts to show off. Hank had benched him. Ruzek had put up protest. Apparently he didn't think he could be benched outside of work.

"My unit, my rules," Hank had provided rather threateningly while he still had barbecue utensils in his hand.

"Know what Kevin said to me?" Jay raised an eyebrow at her.

"Mmm…?" Erin provided, she'd started drawing her own patterns along his forearm but he'd shifted and weaved his fingers with hers instead, shaking her hand slightly in his.

"'This is some weird-ass white people food'," Jay deadpanned.

A smile tugged more at Erin's lips. "Well, I'm not sure I'd call Eth's dietary requirements 'white people food'. Weird-ass, I can get on-board with."

Jay grinned. "Did he tell you where he wants to go for the museum coupon?"

Erin rolled her eyes. "Yea," she said. "To see the overgrown brontosaurus thing in New York City."

Jay's hand let go of hers and he slapped the back of swing. "He told me the Spy Museum in D.C."

Erin let out an amused sound. "I hope you burst that bubble pretty quick."

"Erin. The Spy Museum," he put to her directly.

She rolled her eyes. "How much OT you think you need to do to afford to take him to D.C. for a weekend? To go to a museum."

"A spy museum," Jay stressed at her and sat back in the bench a bit with a shrug. "They pay you like a dollar per minute anyways. One double shift and we've got that shit covered."

Erin snorted. "I can think of a lot better things to have covered off with my OT pay check, thanks."

"You're no fun," Jay grinned wryly at her.

"I know," she allowed. "Party pooper over here."

He smiled at her some more and re-laced his fingers with her, the swing rocking again for a long while as they sat in silence. Just the swing's chains creaked around them. The street was surprisingly quiet for a Saturday. Even the sound from a few blocks over where people were likely sitting out on patios rather than in bars, didn't seem to be carrying over to the house that night. It was still.

Erin gave Jay a thin smile and rocked the swing a bit more. "Hank and Camille would sit out here and talk a lot in the summer," she said and pointed up at the window. "Sure it was their private spot until I moved in."

Jay glanced up and gave her a grin. "You saying you're an eavesdropper, Erin?"

She shrugged. "Eavesdropper, undercover detective. They really that different?"

Jay allowed an amused sound. "Think Voight would likely tell you they are."

She smiled a bit and pushed the swing a couple more times. "I quickly learned they weren't that interesting."

"Voight uninteresting?" Jay said. "I'm not sure I believe that."

Erin smiled and allowed her head to bob from side-to-side in some recognition of that comment. "Well, at least out here. They saved their real couple brawls for the basement."

"See, that's nice," Jay allowed, reaching and taking a slow tug of his more-than-likely warm beer. "My parents reserved it for every room in the house. Or I should say my dad."

Erin frowned at him. He said so little about his family but then it was always something like that. A passing little comment in the midst of another conversation that he clearly didn't want to be asked more about and would completely shut down if she did press him on it. She didn't need to, though. She knew enough to know his father was a bit of an asshole. She'd met the man. She just wished Jay would give her a little bit more than that. She'd given him a lot of herself – and her family. Both the good family and the bad family … Bunny.

But she wasn't going to argue with him about it that night. The basement was already occupied by Hank. There wasn't space for them to have their own couple's brawl. And this wasn't something she wanted to have to fight with him about. She wanted him to want to tell her. To want to talk about it. And he didn't. She was learning to accept that wasn't a comment on her. It was about him and where he was this his baggage and how he coped with his own past trauma. It was another area that he could be a bit of a hypocrite in. But telling him that would only instigate a fight too.

So she just shrugged again. "You know, out here, they mostly just talked about typical couple and family stuff. Crap that was going on with us. Who needed to drive who were. Who needed to get the milk the next day. But I guess it was still interesting to me. To hear what … normal people. A normal couple talked about."

"Groceries and playdates?"

Erin allowed a quiet laugh. "Yea. Pretty much. And honey-do-lists. Though, I think he still hasn't gotten to most of the items on those lists."

Jay grinned a bit at that and shook at her hand. "Window's still rattling," Jay provided.

"Window unit's still broken," she added. "And the bathroom still looks like it's out of the 1950s."

"Oh, I think that's being generous," he said.

She smiled and gazed across the little yard. "Maybe you're right," she allowed quietly. "Maybe we should look for something more like this. Or at list something closer to here. The condos, townhouses, we've been looking at they all just seem …"

"Modern," Jay provided.

She gave him a little smile. "I was thinking sterile."

He gripped at her hand. "Well, I don't think money can buy a bathroom like what he's got upstairs anymore."

Erin let a small laugh. "But we could likely get those yellow walls in the kitchen. Pretty sure he's still got some extra cans of paint in the basement."

"Yea, hard pass," Jay shook his head.

Erin let a little giggle escape and grinned gently at him. "Wanna get out of here?" she asked.

He nodded, his eyes dancing at her. "Yea," he agreed. "I do."


	102. Good Things

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 103 - TALKING AT FENCES.**

Hank allowed a small smile as he came back into the front room and saw that Eth had passed right out on the floor in his new sleeping bag. The kid had run himself ragged that day. Hopefully they wouldn't be paying for it for days or weeks afterwards. But in the meantime, rather than worrying about all that, he was just happy that Magoo had had a nice day. Been lots of smiles and silliness out of his boy. He liked seeing that. Needed to see it. Because sometimes his son just radiated pain and discomfort and sadness about his condition and everything he was going through – even if he put on a good front, strong face and kept trudging on. He needed some days where he could forget about all the bullshit. Where he could just be a kid. Act his age – with kids his age. Hank, as a father, needed to see all that too. Needed it for his boy. So he wasn't too upset his now teen-aged boy was conked out on the front room floor. Was almost surprised the kid hadn't crashed out sooner, actually.

He let himself share his small smile with Olive, who was sitting in one of the room's armchairs. Voight wasn't too sure if she was watching the kid or watching the game from that angle. But the game was still going on either way. Magoo would likely be peeved he missed the end – especially since by the looks of it they'd gone into extra innings. So likely a good one happening that night.

The woman returned the smile – a little shyly – like she always did. So Hank just stepped around his son and went to sit over on his couch. He gestured at the TV.

"You can change the channel, you know," he nodded at Olive.

She allowed him another weak smile and a little shrug. "I thought he might wake back up and want to see the end," she said.

Voight shrugged. "You snooze, you lose," he allowed.

Olive allowed him a bit deeper smile at that but then shifted her eyes back to the television. Hank batted at the armrest and pointed up at the ceiling.

"H still fussing?" he asked, with his older son having not materialized in the living room too.

Olive turned toward the stairs and seemed to strain her ears. "I don't think so," she said. "Did you hear something?"

"Mmm …," Voight gave his head a shake. "J turn in?" he asked instead.

"Oh …," Olive said and briefly met his eyes before trying to look away and doing a poor job at it. "He decided to go out for a bit. He just has some friends to see."

Hank gave a little smack at that and spread his fingers on the armrest while he processed that, while he read Olive's body language and labored eye contact a bit more. Something was being left unsaid there. But it could be a whole lot of things.

Still, it sort of stung a bit that his son was putting drinks with his buddies ahead of family time again. Hadn't gotten anything that resembled a real visit with his eldest boy the night before. They'd argued. He'd laid down the law for the weekend. And then they'd chopped and diced some fruit and veg in silence. Wasn't exactly chit-chat or catch-up. Not that him and J had managed to establish a relationship that really seemed to let them excel at either. J didn't seem to feel like he could talk to him about shit. Never came to him about much of anything unless it was to pick some sort of fight over sibling rivalry bullshit or looking for a handout – rather than a hand up.

But, still, he'd thought he'd get some time to sit with his boy that evening. Figured they'd go out back and have a beer if Erin and Halstead had vacated the porch yet. Figured something that resembled conversation would come out of the course of putting one back. But now it looked like J had once again opted to spend his time elsewhere. Likely with some of that old crew of his from growing up in the city. Stroking each other's egos and talking big man shit about absolute bullshit. J likely thought he had a whole lotta stories to tell now that he was in the Army, even if he hadn't done shit yet. Hadn't been deployed.

Voight was OK with his son staying stateside. A bit of a blessing, actually. But he didn't like J talking with that chip on his shoulder. That mouth of his running could get him in real trouble. So, as much as he was glad that his boy and his daughter-in-law and his grandson were going to be back in the city for a few years while J did his schooling, he also was pretty fucking worried about his son falling in with the old crowd again. Didn't like feeling like Justin was out there grooming those old connections – rather than letting them fray and fall away – ahead of him getting there. J needed to focus on being a husband and father now. A grown man. Those childish ways of his had to be fading into the background.

And, Voight thought some of it had. When he'd got down to base to see the home J and Olive were making for Henry. To meet some of the men, J was surrounded by now. He did see some glimpses of the growth Justin had made. Progress. Maturity. Made him proud. But getting back here? Every time J came to town – ended up in their family home – he felt like he was dealing with that kid again. That stupid, dumb fuck, egoistical kid who talked until his foot was wedged so far down his throat he couldn't call it out and wouldn't listen to any sense being given to him by anyone. But he did listen to those other dumbfucks he spent time with. Tried to impress them. Tried to do some sort of right by them. Felt like he owed them.

But J didn't owe any of them shit. People he owed something to were in that room. In that house.

And, he supposed that pissed him off too. That this visit – should be a visit and some downtime for Olive too. A weekend to let Popa and Uncle Ethan and Auntie Erin carry some of the load for the both of them – even if they had to make a fucking six hour drive to get it. J should be enjoying the downtime and making sure his wife was getting it too. Hell, if he'd wanted to take Olive out for a night cap or a meal that wasn't fucking sausage and watermelon – Hank wouldn't have batted an eye about watching his grandson for a few hours. But instead J had left Olive sitting here while he'd gone out with the fellas. Again.

Fucking unfair to the woman. Hank had had enough conversations with Olive to know she was trying real hard. To be a member of the family and to make sure that Henry got to have a relationship with all of them. But that didn't mean that she felt all that comfortable in her place in the family yet. Her nervousness and awkwardness about it all just oozed off of her. And, whereas when they'd first met she'd ran her mouth a bit in over-compensation to try to prove herself and validate herself, now more often than not she was real quite. Pretty much held up the baby at them and hoped they'd focus on him. Which was all good. But it sure was fuck wasn't fair to her.

But he wasn't going to say any of that to Olive. Figured she pretty much already knew all of it anyway. No point in flogging it with her.

"He's doing OK, though? Got his head on straight?" was all he asked.

She gave a nod and a weak smile that again betrayed that there was more to it all. "Yea," was all she provided, though.

"Mmm …," Hank nodded, again letting it sit while he assessed her. But then he just jutted his thumb to the back of the house. "Erin and Halstead still out back?" he asked.

He didn't think they were. He was pretty sure that he'd heard movement in the floorboards above his head while he was on the phone. But Erin usually let him know before she was taking off. Though, with her having seen him on the phone and known he'd moved down to the basement, she likely would've known better than to stick her head down there if it wasn't some kind of emergency. Kid likely didn't want to wait for him to get off the phone if her and Halstead were ready to get going. And they likely were. They'd put in a long day too. They'd done a hell of a lot more to entertain the kids at the park than anyone else. And had managed the treks back and forth to the parking lot to retrieve various crap. An extra ice run and a fucking Cola run when that Max kid near had an emotional meltdown about their not being soft drinks up for grabs at lunch.

Fuck. It put some things in perspective. As much as parenting Eth was rough going – he didn't envy Max's parents one bit. Hell, the kid's mom had pretty much pealed out of there when she'd dropped off the kid. She'd actually asked how many hours she could leave him there and had been the last parent to come and retrieve her kid. She clearly needed a fucking break. And after an afternoon with Max, Voight didn't fucking blame her. Max had been over following after him – so fucking close he kept bumping into the kid and nearly took his eye out with the fucking barbecue utensils – more than he did hanging out with Magoo or socializing with the other kids. The kid had about sixty billion questions and about sixty billion more opinions about things that he'd spewed off at about a mile minute.

Now, Eth could come across as a little 'special' sometimes with his brain damage. He could get overly obsessive and focused on things in fucking peculiar ways too. Could talking fucking rapid fire without a filter. But Max took it to a different level. Clearly was on the spectrum even if he was high functioning. Weird kid. Nice kid. But a weird kid. And Voight hadn't had any love lost when the kid's mom finally reappeared to retrieve him. Even had to give a non-answer combined with some white lies when she'd broached setting up a 'playdate' with E for another weekend.

Maybe that was part of the problem, though. Kid's mom still calling her seventh grader's get-togethers 'playdates'? Might be some mom issues and parenting issues going on there too. Because no pre-teen or teen boy Voight knew would be going on some 'playdate'. The hung out. But he wasn't going to correct her on it or offer up some sort of easy accommodation. Wasn't sure him or Erin wanted to be the ones having to facilitate that. And he was even less sure that Eth was close enough to Max to want to hang out with him in his free time. Had a feeling that Robotics Club and the birthday party would likely have been more than enough Max time outside of the kid trailing after him like a puppy at school too.

"They left a while ago," Olive said. "Erin said they might come back around in the morning."

"Mmm …," Hank nodded.

Made sense. Give her a last chance to see her nephew and say bye to her brother and Olive. Supposed it made sense too since she'd mentioned something about them going to some open houses tomorrow. Seemed to think they were going to look at some of the new townhouse developments in the bordering neighborhoods. Seemed like a shitty plan to Voight. Some of those developments just looked over the top and the amount you were paying per square-footage was just ridiculous. Had had some opinions about where his girl should be looking and what she should be looking at. But he was keeping out of it. He'd stepped in it real good when she'd been condo hunting. This time he was biting his tongue. Let her and the future-son-in-law figure it out.

"E been out a while?" he asked.

"Yeah …" Olive allowed.

Hank allowed a little nod again. Sometimes making conversation with the girl was so fucking hard. He was never too sure what to say to her. Was always careful with what he said and how he said it. He knew she was in a rough spot in a lot of ways. And that he was the kind of person that most didn't want to spend a whole lot of time around. But he didn't really excel at small talk. Didn't see the point most of the time. Though, having E back in his daily life had made him better about at least tossing out questions and listening to the response, even if he didn't care too much about the answer. At least it kept lines of communication open. He needed that with E.

"He really likes that sleeping bag," Hank tried. "Will be real useful. Appreciate that you guys got it for him."

Olive allowed a thin smile again and shrugged, but then managed, "He said you're going camping next weekend?"

"Mmm …," Hank grunted and made a dismissive gesture. "Yea. Father's Day. There's this fishing derby thing that Camille started us in on going out to every year when the kids were littler. Eth wants to go. But we'll have to see how he's doing after this weekend's excitement. Sometimes he takes a bit to bounce back from this kind of stuff."

"He seemed like he had fun, though," Olive offered. But Hank saw the way she looked at the sleeping boy and processed that. Could see some empathy in her body language. A bit of concern.

"Oh, yea," Hank allowed. "He had a real good time." Olive gave him another thin smile. "What about you?" he asked.

He wasn't sure how much fun Olive had had. He hadn't had a ton of interaction with her while they were over at the park. He'd been dealing with the food and having to talk to a bunch of the other adults that came through. Give platitudes and reassurances and pretend like he wanted to some sort of Parent of the Year with random shitty small talk about kids and parental stuff that he never had much time for. When he wasn't doing that he'd been pretty much managing Max and managing his own son, who had been bouncing off the walls a lot of the day. Was a good thing that they were out in a park. Had managed to get a bit of time in to actually go and watch the kids be kids and to play some ball with them for a few minutes too. But had meant that he'd sorta lost track of J and Olive and Henry at the barbecue.

He'd taken that as a good thing. After the way J and Erin were interacting when Magoo was opening presents in the morning, he'd thought he was going to end up having to play referee. That the two of them would get into it in front of everyone. Or that Halstead would lose his cool and it'd just create a fucking bigger situation. Thankfully that hadn't happened.

Erin and J seemed to be giving each other lots of space and from the bit he'd seen Halstead, it seemed like he was doing his utmost to not even making eye contact with Justin. That wasn't exactly an ideal fucking situation in the long term when talking about them as a family unit – but in terms of the day, Voight would take it. Ignoring each other over there being a fucking scene – fine.

A few times he'd spotted Justin over playing some ball with the kids. Hadn't seemed that interested in the baseball – though he had done some watching. But he did get out there when the kids started playing sort of water balloon, water gun version of baseball, which pretty much looked like an excuse to soak each other down and runaround like maniacs. Though, when he'd gone over, he'd been spewed at with some sort of rules and Justin had been out there playing that too. So at least he'd found some way to halfways engage with his baby brother.

Olive, though, she'd hung back for a lot of it. Voight wasn't even sure if she'd gone over to the ball diamond. She'd had H over playing in the grassy for a bit. Whatever they'd spotted they'd seemed pretty fucking fascinated and H had been clapping his hands madly about it and squealing. Likely some bug. He'd been squealing at the little boy that 'Tonio's sister had brought with her too. Always cute to see two babies playing together. Funny how kids knew when another kid was the same as them.

Other than that, though, Olive had pretty much hung around the picnic shelter as far as Voight could tell. Looking a little awkward and out of place and trying to make some conversation with the various people who'd attempted chit-chat with her. It seemed like some had managed that better that others. And the ones who seemed to have the most success were the ones who'd gone over to her to actually fawn of his grandson rather than talk directly to her.

He'd noticed her a bit again when it came time to clean up. She'd been really helpful with that. But overall, Voight wouldn't exactly that day had likely been a bang-on time for her.

"It was fun," was all she allowed, though. Voight wasn't too sure there was much truth to that. Or at least not much enthusiasm.

He slapped his hand slowly on the armrest again. "Go H's next," he offered. "That should be real fun. Lookin' forward to that."

She gave him another shy smile but again seemed to be avoiding direct eye contract like there was more to it.

"Got any plans on the go yet for the big day?" he pressed a little.

She sighed and gave him a shrug, fidgeting slightly. "I don't know," she allowed quietly. "Kids' birthdays seem like kind of a big thing on base. It all seems sort of competitive and I'm not really good at most of that stuff."

Voight gave her a bit of a look. "Stuff?" he asked with a bit of a headshake. "It's a one-year-old's birthday. You gotta buy a cake."

She smiled a bit wider at him. "I wish it was that simple," she said.

"What? You got to get a video game truck ordered up or something?" he tried as a joke.

She shrugged. "A lot of them do these themes. Like … the cake, the decorations, the food, the goodie bags … it's all the same theme."

"Mmm …," Hank grunted. He supposed that sorta made some sense. He could remember doing some parties that had something that might've resembled a theme back when the kids were little. But he didn't think you really needed to get too hung up on that shit when the kid was one. Maybe when he was like six and obsessed with dinosaurs or whatever.

"Yea …," Olive sighed again. "I'd really just … prefer to come back up here to celebrate his birthday. But Justin thinks even if we do that, we should still host one on base since we've been invited to so many other parties."

"Mmm …," Hank allowed.

He hadn't even realized that them having H's birthday up in Chicago had been an option. It'd seemed pretty open-and-shut that it'd be down on the base was the plan. He'd actually done some of his summer planning around it. Even actually put in fucking official paperwork to take a couple days off to make sure he got down there for his grand-baby's birthday without something popping up and fucking it up. But, hell, he'd take them bringing his grandson up for the weekend instead.

"So now me and Justin have been arguing about this theme thing," she said. "He wants to do something like cars or construction vehicles or whatever. And, I guess, I kind of want to do … like bugs or insects. Like an insect safari," she said a bit more confidently.

Hank smiled a bit at that thought and gave her a little point. "Saw you two over in the grass," he said. "Figured he'd found a bug."

"A caterpillar," she nodded. "He managed to kill it. He got a little too excited and … kind of stomped it to death."

Hank allowed a quiet laugh at that and gave her a more genuine smile. "Just way until he's pulling wings off flies or baking ants with a magnifying glass."

Olive made a bit of a face. "I hope not," she said. "But he really likes bugs. He's always finding the ants and spiders in the house. I think he's eaten some."

Hank let out a bigger laugh at that. "Ah, well, we've all got to eat some dirt and bugs in our lives."

"Yeah …," Olive gave him a smile. "Though, I think I would've liked to put something other than a 'spider' in his baby book as his first solid food."

Hank gave her another little smile. "You do his birthday up this way, you think you're still going to try to get up for the Fourth?" he asked, patting at the armrest again.

Olive shrugged. "I'd like to. I mean, I'd like to come up a few weekends in July and August to start looking for a place. But we haven't really figured out how we're going to manage that yet. Justin seems to think one of his friends will be able to help us get into something pretty easily."

"Mmm …," Voight allowed and measured her again. "House? Apartment?"

"House …" Olive said quietly – like there was again more she wanted to say but wasn't.

"Where?" he asked.

"The 'burbs … I think," Olive said.

Hank gave a small nod. "Which one?"

She shrugged. "Justin's handling it."

He gazed at her at that, sticking his tongue into his cheek. "That what he out handling tonight?"

She shook her head but shrugged at the same time. "He's just meeting some friends."

He grunted and folded his hands, staring at her. But she was fidgeting more. "You know," he said after letting her squirm for a moment, "you and J both found some trouble in this city when you were growing up. But now that you've got Henry – that you're moving back – you can't be going and lookin' for it."

She shook her head and him and gave him concerned eyes. "I don't want trouble, Hank," she said but there was a slight catch in her voice. "Henry's been such a good thing for me. And for us. And I really just want to come home. So we can have him closer to family. Coming home is supposed to be a good thing too. For both of us. For school. For our careers."

Hank nodded and measured her yet again. "It still lookin' like it's going to be a good thing?"

But she looked away and back to Ethan on the floor. "You know, I was really hoping that maybe Henry could play in the sandbox a bit tomorrow morning."

Voight just smacked at that comment.

She gave him a nervous look. A sad smile. "Justin had said that you built it for Ethan? For his second birthday, he thought."

"Yea …" Voight allowed flatly.

Her smile grew a little sadder. "I like that," she said quietly. "I want Henry to have good things like that."

 **AUTHOR NOTE: So this chapter was/is a potential set-up for if I decide I want to follow whatever happens in the finale. If I don't recast the events of the finale and use them in this story, the content of this scene will still be relevant for the direction the story is currently going in.**

 **Also the chapter before this — Not Alright — was posted on a less than 24-hour turnaround. The reader count is pretty low so I don't think it bumped and people might've missed it. You might want to check. It's a pretty important one to the Jay/Erin relationship plot.**


	103. Not Alright

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 103 - TALKING AT FENCES.**

 **AUTHOR NOTE: THIS CHAPTER WAS POSTED LESS THAN 24-HOURS AFTER MY PREVIOUS POSTING. PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU DIDN'T MISS THE CHAPTER IMMEDIATELY BEFORE THIS.**

 **************RATING WARNING**** THIS CHAPTER IS RATED M. IT HAS SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT AND LANGUAGE. HOWEVER, IT ISN'T SMUT. THE CONSERVATION BETWEEN JAY AND ERIN IS IMPORTANT TO THE DEVELOPMENT OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP AND THE STORY.********************

Erin squirmed under the weight of him – opening her mouth even deeper for the near never-ending kiss they'd locked into.

Jay had given up all pretenses of trying to prop himself up – to bear his own weight. And his stomach was flush against hers, pressing her into the bed. The only thing giving some reprieve from the feel of him was that he'd shifted his one hip slightly to lean off of her and into the mattress – giving it some of the load. But it wasn't enough to hide the extent of his arousal that kept bumping into her demandingly – seemingly more demandingly than his tongue was battling with hers. Stroking at the insides of her mouth in a way that had the sensitive radiating into her eardrums and then spreading into a tingling arousal down her neck and arms and breasts and spine. Spreading through her stomach and into her core – her apex, where his erection kept nudging at her. Though, he wasn't making any move to relive himself of his jeans.

Hers had long been shedded – basically the moment he'd playfully tossed her onto the bed after carrying her into the bedroom. They'd barely made it there – not after earlier that night. Not after their rush to get home. Their flurry at starting to undress each other in the kitchen. Again. But apparently his urgency at getting their clothes removed had passed.

He'd pulled off her shirt in the kitchen. And she his. She'd unbuttoned her jeans for them and he'd shimmied them down her ass and than whipped them off her legs with that cracking sound he liked to make them make as he shook them from her and the bed - and out of the irway. But then he'd settled his knee into the mattress – and himself overtop of her. Her panties. Her tank. Her bra. They hadn't been removed. And he hadn't stripped himself of his own pants before joining her either.

She hadn't minded. She was happy to get her mouth back against his. To feel his tongue. His lips. To taste him. And his breathe. To feel it on her and against her and joining with her in their labored breathing. But now, with feeling him right there, with the extent of her arousal, with how she was once again the one whose hips were restlessly pressing against him – her priorities had changed.

Her hands left their grip against the short hair on the back of his head –his neck. Their restless adjustment of his head to get him to open deeper for her. To angle better. To kiss even more passionately than he was. They moved down his biceps and went lower until they held against his ass –urging him closer against her. Encouraging him to press into her. But even with that he didn't break what he was doing to free himself of his pants. So she moved to do it for him.

Her hands snaked around his waist and found the button on his jeans. He didn't protest as she got it popped open. She fumbled then with the zipper. He was so hard that the fly didn't want to move down over his bulge easily and he made a sound of discomfort at the stuck movement – sucking in a breath like she must've caught the zipper against his skin and not just his briefs.

She cringed at that thought on his behalf. "Sorry," she muttered against him.

Erin drew her mouth away and gazed down into the cramped space between them. He still hadn't moved to give her much of a line of sight – or the space – to see what she was doing and to accomplish the mission. But she fiddled with the zipper again and it managed to make it over his bulge and settle at the bottom of his fly. She pushed his jeans open a bit more – giving them both some space and freedom for the tent that had grown there.

She was readying to push his briefs down too but he against pressed into her and returned his mouth to hers. She let him for a moment. But now she could feel the length and the heat of him through the fabric of his boxers, shifting in steady movements against the now sopping humidity that had flooded over the fabric of her panties. She couldn't stand even having that division between them anymore at that point.

So she again reached between them and shoved her hand down the front of his briefs – wrapping her grip around him.

To say he was hard would likely be an understatement. She'd never felt his erection that firm before. The heat coming off of the soft, taunt skin of him filled her hand to the point it almost felt like warm velvet. But he was pulsing. She could literally feel his arousal pulsing through him.

She didn't know how he was containing himself – controlling himself –when what was in her hand felt like that. She was almost afraid to grip him – to stroke him – because she couldn't comprehend how he wasn't going off. She couldn't imagine that she'd be able to give him more than a couple tugs before he came. And, if he was going to cum – right then – she wanted it to be in her, not her hand. She wanted to feel him inside her when he felt like that. It made her core ache even more.

Her hands fumbled even more with the realization and she broke the kiss as she hooked her thumbs around his waistband and moved to push them down. But with the bob of his erection, she'd barely gotten his head to bounce free when he pulled away from her.

She glanced down at his mushroom head – it was near maroon in that light and with its straining for freedom against his boxers. It's need for release. But she barely got a glance at it before Jay's hand had moved and haphazardly pulled the band of the boxers back into place – hiding his penis from her view but still doing nothing for the tent it was creating.

Her eyes shifted to him questioningly. He didn't look upset. Not with her. But he had that look about him. He wasn't all there. And it wasn't an absence due to the demands going on between his legs. It was almost like he wasn't quite registering – or was too used to resisting – what was happening there.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He just shook his head and gave a little shrug. "I can't do this tonight."

She stared at him, trying to process that. "Are you kidding me?"

There were definitely moments where Jay was off in bed. Sometimes more than a little. But it was baggage. She could tell. She knew the looks. The feelings.

Everyone had a past. Him included. But even with that, Jay rarely turned down sex. At least with her. And, if he did it usually had more to do with her and where he thought she was at than with him.

But in that moment, he just shrugged at her.

"You look like you can do this tonight," she put to him probably too bluntly. More bluntly than she meant too.

She didn't mean to sound that annoyed or frustrated. But she really was fucking annoyed and frustrated. He'd gotten her more than a little worked up and was going to leave her hanging out to dry. Or force her to deal with matters on her own –when there was a perfectly good erection attached to a guy that she really liked having sex with – who she loved - sitting right there.

He gazed at her. "You know I don't like handjobs," he put flatly.

She groaned at him and put her hand against her forehead – frustration boiling over again. "I wasn't going to give you a handjob, Jay," she muttered, fighting to keep her tone in check. "I was just trying to get your pants off."

"You—" he started with that self-righteous, holier-than-thou tone he got sometimes when it came to sex and relationships. One that she really fucking hated.

"I was just surprised you were that hard," she pressed back at him. "I didn't realize you were that close. I stopped when I did."

"I wasn't that close," he said indignantly.

She sighed and rolled away from her propped up examination of him, settling onto her back and staring at the ceiling. Whatever they might've been headed for was clearly wasn't going to happen now. The moment was lost. And they were charging into something entirely different that she wasn't sure she was in the headspace to deal with that night. Not after that day. She was exhausted. She just wanted to get off and then sleep the whole day off.

"OK, Jay ...," she muttered. Because she just felt like she didn't have any more to say. He clearly didn't. He never did. He was perfectly happy just leaving her in the dark. In fact, they always had to be in the fucking dark.

But now through the dark, she could feel him staring at her. There wasn't anger to his gaze. There wasn't the frustration she felt in her body – vibrating at so many levels. There was genuine confusion and vulnerability. She could feel those little boy eyes on her – not the tough guy façade he tried to fool other people with.

"So you're just ... going to sleep now?" he finally asked. There was a mild edge to it. Like he had to think about the tone he was using and push to get it out.

But she still felt her eyes roll back in her head a bit at the question – now. She shook her head. "First, I guess I'm going into my nightstand," she muttered. Because even though her body wasn't buzzing in quite the same way it was a few minutes ago, she still didn't think she was going to sleep if she didn't take matters into her own hands. Or her Battery Operated Boyfriend – who's lack of sophistication just seemed so much easier than dealing with human relationships far too often. "But, then, yea, Jay, I'm going to sleep." She shifted her eyes to him and that puppy-dog look. "You said you weren't up to anything else tonight."

His eyes just sat on her. He was doing that biting of his bottom lip where he wasn't exactly biting his bottom lip there again. That nervous look that played over his face nearly every time that sex became involved and he clearly wasn't sure if that's what she wanted. Or maybe it was more that he wasn't sure if it was what he wanted.

"I can still …," and it was a dead giveaway that he'd officially checked out on her because he couldn't even find the big boy words to express that he was still willing to get her off. Or at least he'd rather do it than know that she was about to pull out her vibrator and handle it herself. "… for you."

But it just annoyed her more and she let out a sigh, shaking her head harder. "You always make it sound like the sex is for me," she spat out. Harder than she meant to. Near hissed. But it was true. Ninety-five percent of the time, he made it seem like it was some big favor that he was doing for her. Sleeping with her. Like it was some sort of task and responsibility.

And it annoyed the fuck out of her. Because she knew he was attracted to her. She knew he wanted her. She knew that he liked getting laid on a regular basis. That he was capable in bed. That he enjoyed kissing and foreplay and banter and flirting and teasing her. But then he always seemed to cast it like it was for her. It was about her.

And it wasn't. It was about him.

And it was about their relationship.

And right now – parts of that just didn't feel like it was working.

Erin knew she didn't know what a normal, health, sexual relationship looked like. She knew she hadn't had those before. Or at least not any that were long-term. None that resulted in a proposal. None with a guy she was supposed to be spending the rest of her life with.

But if this was what their sex life looked like for the rest of their lives? She wasn't sure she could do it. She loved him. There were lots of things she enjoyed about sex with him. Or at least about making love to him. But there were other things that were just so wrong and fucked up about it. Way more fucked up than even some of the ridiculous sexual situations that she'd had inflicted on her – and inflicted on herself.

Sometimes it felt like this was just another ridiculous situation she'd inflicted on herself.

And that wasn't how she wanted to feel about Jay. About them. About the life they were supposed to be making together.

He eyed her. She could see the gears turning. Him trying to come up with something to say while still keeping all those walls intact.

"It's just today," he said, like that somehow related to anything. "I thought I was up for it. I'm not. Just Ethan—"

She smacked her hand on the mattress at that and drilled her eyes into him. "I don't want to talk about Ethan, Jay. The whole day was about Ethan. This isn't about Ethan. Right now. Here. It's about us. It's about you."

He stopped at that. Really stopped. The look on his face almost said she'd slapped him. He was taken off guard. And after a lack-jawed moment, he let himself fall off his propped elbow and to the mattress, laying on his back as he folded his arms almost protectively across his chest and stared at the ceiling.

"I'm getting sick of this, Jay," Erin said more flatly, staring at the ceiling on her own side of the bed. He felt about a thousand miles away even though he was little more than a foot from her. Still within reach. "You want sex. You initiate sex. But I'm not allowed to touch you?"

"You're allowed to touch me," he muttered with his own edge of annoyance creeping in now.

"Right," Erin huffed sarcastically. "The list of where I'm not allowed to touch you is a hell of a lot longer than where I am, Jay. I can't keep it straight in my head. Not when we're like this."

"It's not that complicated," he said in his own hiss. "I don't like handjobs. I'd prefer you not to be touching my dick. Especially after I'm erect. It's not fucking algebra, Erin."

"Sure let's take your dick off-limits during foreplay," she said. "And don't tell me why. Don't talk to me. I'm just supposed to respect your boundaries."

"I respect your boundaries," he spat, his arms clutching tighter. His fists clenching.

"Expect when you don't," she said.

His eyes bolted to her. "I respect your boundaries," he said even more firmly.

There was anger and fear in them. They were intermingling to the point it made her take a beat.

But it was true. As much as he respected some of her boundaries – he didn't others. Not in that he forced her to do anything she didn't want to do. Just in that he still excreted so much control in the bedroom – however gently. It was still her who was always submissive. It was still this push for eye contact even now that they'd been together more than long enough to establish trust and she thought to earn her the right to close her eyes on occasion and just enjoy – to feel – what he was doing to her body. To not have to see that look he got as he struggled with his own control as his body's natural needs and instincts took over and he couldn't control himself anymore. And then – he got that same fear in his eyes.

It scared him. And it made her wonder if he really did enjoy sex. If he really good anything out of the orgasm. Out of what they were sharing together. Or if it was just something he thought he was supposed to do. How he was supposed to be a man, and a boyfriend, and a fiancé.

That the only way that he could let himself enjoy it was to pay some sort of fucked up penance of making the sex about her. Making the eye contact and the trust issues about her. Of making sure she got her orgasm. Of being the "good guy" after he'd been the "bad guy" who had sexual needs and wants and desires too but was too afraid to take them if it meant having to give up a piece of himself – and a piece of his own control. Whether that was brought on by her or his body taking over.

"I like to make you feel good too, Jay," she finally managed. "I like to take care of you. And most of the time you won't let me."

He shook his head – just slightly. She could barely see it through the dark. But she did hear his long exhale. "Well, maybe it's not so awesome when someone does it to you without your permission," he mumbled.

And then it was Erin who felt the slap of the statement. The pointed comment at her but the most revealing statement he'd given her about what the hell was going on. About what the hell they were doing. About why it sometimes felt so awkward and off. And even though she'd known. She'd suspected. She'd seen so many of the signs in him. The little comments about his childhood and the kind of teenager he was. Even the kind of man he was now. She'd known. But it still caused her breath to catch and her eyes to sting with tears and she rolled onto her side again to look at him.

He was still staring at the ceiling – unmoving. His breathing seemed even but she could feel the tension in him radiating through the mattress. She could almost hear the anxious pounding of his heart. And she hesitantly reached out to touch him – because she wasn't sure if she was allowed. But all she wanted to do was hold him. So tightly.

Her hand landed mid-chest. He looked down at it. It seemed like he looked at it too long. Like he might toss it aside. Tell her that wasn't allowed either. But then he reached up and placed his over top of hers and she took that as a sign that she could move close to him, pressing lightly against him, while she pushed their joint hands from his mid-chest over his heart that was still pounding at verbalizing that admission and then onward to where she could grip tightly at his shoulder while his hand gripped even more tightly at hers.

"I'm sorry I didn't ask permission," she said quietly. Nearly whispered. "You're really good at getting permission from me."

And he was. He always looked to her for permission for everything. Every step. Every shift involved eye contact. He stopped and asked how she was doing or if things were OK – if she was OK – more than she felt he even needed to. And she'd learned that he needed really clear consent before he moved forward. Often verbal. She'd told him it was OK – that they were OK – more than she ever had to any men before. Because they were. With Jay these things were OK – even when they weren't. It was always OK. It was always safe. Even when it was scary as fuck. Maybe that was part of what made both of them as scared as fuck about all of this. Them.

"I like what we do," he offered more evenly – but in his own quiet tone.

But she managed a thin smile and shifted some more to rest her head on his opposite shoulder. "Me too, Jay," she allowed.

Because she did. As fucked as they were – she liked it. She liked them.

They laid in silence. Her listening to his still pounding heart. But down his chest she could see that even in their argument his erection had done little to resolve. He was still straining against his briefs. Too far along in their foreplay and too worked up in their argument for his body to calm. And, Erin knew he must be uncomfortable, in addition to the vulnerability he was feeling in that moment.

She let out a little sigh and looked up at him. He still seemed far away. Distracted. Processing. His gears shifting and shifting while he fell further into his head and into places she knew he shouldn't be going. So she gripped more firmly at his shoulder until his eyes looked to hers.

"You trust me, right?" she said.

"Yea …" he managed.

She gave him a little nod and planted a small kiss on his shoulder. "So trust me, Jay," she told him. "OK?"

He allowed a small nod and she gave his chest another small kiss before propping herself up and lifting her hips to remove her panties. She could see him watching her.

"You want this off?" she asked, gesturing at the hem off her tank.

"Yea …" he managed quietly again.

But she nodded and pulled it over her head. Her arm immediately snaked around her back and reached to unhook her bra too, letting it fall down her shoulders and arms, before tossing it aside with the rest of the clothes that had ended up on the floor.

She could feel him watching her still. Staring. Normally he'd be touching her. Reaching for her. He got like that about her breasts in the heat of things. But they weren't in the heat of things. And they were both hurting. And being cautious.

Still, he acknowledged what they were doing. What they were going to do. What she was going to do for him. And he crunched his abs slightly to get his briefs started down his legs – or at least over his erection.

Erin shifted on the bed and reached to pull the underwear the rest of the way down his legs for him and out of the way. His erection looked more normal – for him – now. Not as painfully hard but still not showing any signs of resolving itself on its own.

He settled back onto the mattress and gave her a look. There was a nervous about it. A lack of experience.

He'd only let her be on top once before and he'd still flipped them before he'd cum. Just like whenever she straddled him while they were kissing on the couch, he'd shift them so he had the upperhand before too long.

But she allowed him a thin smile. "You OK?" she asked. His usual line.

"Yea," he acknowledged.

"OK," Erin allowed and shifted again to plant her knees on either side of his hips. She kept her eyes on him and his were looked with hers. His mouth hanging just slightly open like he did so often when that uncertainty and insecurity in him bubbled to the surface in far more visible ways than he ever wanted to know others saw. "Do you want me to … or do you …?" she asked a little awkwardly.

"You can," he allowed and his hands finally seemed to figure out what to do. Or at least found something to do to distract themselves, landing on her knees and holding them.

She allowed him another awkward smile and reached between them. She didn't tease him – or himself. She didn't attempt any extra stimulation for either of them. Or move him against her sex to collect any of her juices as some extra lubricate. She just carefully guided him directly to her and then slowly took him in, watching his face as she did.

She saw him struggle against it for a moment. The nervousness and the fight playing across his face before the pleasure at the warmth and tightness of her took over and registered there more. She rocked against him gently and his eyelids grow a little heavier in the pleasure and his effort to gaze down his torso to see where they were joined. His hands creeping up from her knees to hold her hips as she moved.

She kept his eyes. Being there for them every time he looked up to find them. But she could still see the hurt and embarrassment there. A sadness. And it pulled at her – until it pulled her to him. And she found herself shifting again. Moving forward until she was flush on top of him – still joined – while she wrapped her arms around his head, her fingers through his hair, and peppered his face and ear and neck with light kisses. Before settling her cheek against his in her continued rocking – so he couldn't see the way her eyes were glassing. His arms wrapping tightly around her.

She could her his breathing in her ear. It's shifting with the arousal. She could feel it in his chest under her. His hips starting to grow restless on their own accord and meet each of her movements. Pressing a little harder and more firmly up into her. But then she felt him moving his cheek against hers. His soft stubble scraping by until it was joined by a warm wetness. And she knew he was crying but that she wasn't supposed to look. So she didn't. She just wrapped her arms more tightly around his head and cradled him more carefully, shifting her lips just enough place a kiss under his ear.

"You're alright," she whispered there.

She wasn't sure if he'd heard her because his breathing became more urgent and his hips pressed up harder. His hands grabbed at her hips and she could feel his urge to flip them – to get on top, to take control – before he came. But then his hands dropped away from her and clutched at the sheets on the bed in clenched fists while he made that sound she knew he tried so hard not to make and he made that face that he likely didn't want to know he made – and she felt him pulsing briefly inside her, his hips pressed up hard against her before he let himself relax. His breathing and heart laboring under her as he tried to calm.

"Sometimes I don't feel alright," he admitted off over her shoulder somewhere.

And Erin let herself raise a little up from him – so she could again look him in his eyes. They were glassy against his tear-streaked cheeks. But she just cupped at his cheek and bent to put a small kiss against his mouth.

"You are," she assured. "We both are."

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Please note the chapter before this was posted less than 24 hours ago, so make sure you didn't miss it (Porch Swing). Talking at Fences (Chapter 103) was also posted on a short turnaround and many seem to have missed it. Your reviews and feedback is much appreciated.**


	104. Staying the Course

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 106 - GOOD THINGS.**

Hank looked up from his book as he heard his son's bedroom door open and a creak on the hallway floorboards. Kid wasn't headed across the hall to the john – he was headed up to his room. So he set his book into his lap and waited for his boy to peek in the crack.

Normally Hank left the door open these days. Easier for him to hear his son's coming-and-goings and any unwanted movement happening around his house on the main floor. But with Olive being there with his grandson, he was keeping up some level of modesty and privacy. Different when it was just him and Magoo in the house. Usually pulled the door partway shut on the nights Erin slept over too – especially if she had Halstead in tow. That usually had more to do with him not wanting to see or hear anything he didn't want to see or hear than him being too worried about his girl having to endure a glimpse of him in his shorts if they ended up crossing baths on the way to the john or the stairs in the night. Different story with Olive, though. Was pretty sure that a glimpse of him in his underwear in his own house would just make things that much more awkward for the poor girl.

Though, that night he would've rather have kept the door wide open. Because it was more the sound on the main floor that he was waiting for. That still had him up. He was still waiting for his son to drag his sorry ass back in. But that hadn't happened yet. It was making him get more than a little worried about just what Justin was out and into. Even if it wasn't anything too serious – if he really just had gone out for some pops with the fellas – he'd been gone long enough that Voight didn't doubt he'd be coming in the door sloshed. He fucking hated when his son did that to himself. Made him so fucking mad given everything. And would piss him off even more when he was doing it in his home, after having left his wife and son for the night, and then very likely still being hungover enough in the morning that it'd be left up to Olive to manage the entirety of the drive back to base.

Still, right now, it was E who was looking in at him. So, he'd deal with that now and worry about dealing with J later. As much as J let him deal with anything for him. Expected him to but didn't want him to at the same time. Same story since he was about Eth's age now. Was starting to think that it wasn't ever going home. Hadn't taught him well enough about a man needing to handle his own business. To handle his family's business. That was part of the job. The role. But you couldn't always be accountable for the kids' mistakes. Not for their stupid, dumbass shit that they kept pulling over and over without fucking learning – even after they were fucking grown men. Or women. At least Erin seemed to learn from her mistakes. To take ownership of them. To try to make changes. To get back on track. Sometimes with J it just felt like an endless trudge of one step forward and two steps back. Hank didn't want to think about what Camille would have to say about all of that. She'd likely blame herself just as much as Hank blamed himself. That they'd failed somewhere with Justin as parents.

"What's wrong?" he rasped at E with the kid still loitering outside the door and not making a move to come in. But with that invitation, the kid pushed it open a bit more and gazed at him.

"I think I need one of my pills, Dad," E admitted a bit defeatedly. "I'm hurting bad. I can't get back to sleep."

Voight just allowed a little grunt of acknowledgement at that statement and put his book on the nightstand to get out of bed and go tend to the kid.

He wasn't that surprised the kid was hurting some. E had had a lot of activity that day. Way more than he was used to. Even though he'd had him in the boxing gym a couple nights a week through the winter and over with the physical therapy too many days a week, it'd really only been since the spring had set in that Eth was starting to be a little more active. More proactive on his own accord about dealing with the need to start learning to deal with his circumstances and not run away from them as much. To function within his means and push the boundaries a bit when he had the strength to. But knowing how to read his body better – and to fucking listen – when it told him he needed to slow down. Most of that had been because the kid actually had decided he wanted to play ball – and had given it a real go. But Voight had started him in on walking home from school or to the District in the afternoon too. Get some exercise. Learn to be out on the streets on his own and not be bashful about the crutches or how to deal with any looks or assholes who didn't give him the space he needed to operate.

It all had been doing the boy some real good. Even the doctors and the physical therapist at the Rehab Center were commenting on the improvements they were seeing in him. But Voight could see it too. Wasn't just about some of the regained strength and reclamation of the muscle wasting. It was the confidence and attitude improvements he was seeing in his boy too.

He'd gotten some of that with the Robotics Club in the winter but Magoo had bottomed out a bit in that after he'd got sidelined with treatment and the meningitis scare. Sidelined even more when the kids didn't make it beyond Regionals and the season came to an abrupt end and his little forced "friend" group and social group dispersed without him having much to show for it all. Beyond Max.

Ball was different, though. Magoo wanted it in a different way. And as much as Hank was all for Eth learning this robotics stuff. Circuitry and programming and engineering. Real career skills that were going to help his kid out in the long-run. He was still real glad that his son was back into sports. Getting outside. Some sun. Some fresh air. Some exercise.

But he'd likely gotten a bit too much of all that that day.

Needed to be real careful about the amount of sun Magoo got with some of the medications he was on. He'd spent a lot of the day barking at his kid to reapply his sunscreen or barking at Erin to take care of it. Would've preferred Eth keep a sleeved shirt on for the day to cover up – but it was a hot one, and the kid over heating could be just as bad in producing flare symptoms. Fucking paradox. His kid was so cold all the time that sometimes he didn't know he was overheating until the symptoms of a flare were starting to show. By then it was a bit of a lost cause. Tough balance to find. But Voight thought they'd managed pretty good with letting the kids play with the water balloons and water guns. Got him cooled off. Maybe too cooled off. Eth had come over looking for a jacket after it shivering. Erin had stuck close to him after that, though, and watched him. Made sure he got it off when he was starting to look a little flushed and clammy. Not registering his body was warm enough again. It was going to be another learning process figuring out how to deal with that that summer.

In terms of pain, though, Voight figured that had more to do with how much of the day Magoo had been playing ball that day. Even after Hank had managed to get rid of everyone and get all cleaned up, he'd still needed to haul E out of the ball diamond. Kid could play all day and night. Fucking kid did anyways. If he didn't have practice or a game, he was out back tossing the ball at the rebounder or begging him to pitch the ball to him. He'd roped Halstead and Erin into that too. Was really pissing Erin off too with teasing her about throwing like a girl. Kid better be careful or he was going to end up with his ass whooped soon for that one. He was annoying the fuck out of her with it and we was telling him as much but sometimes E and that filter of his didn't catch on so quick about when to just drop it. But maybe that's what made the kid so fucking resilient. He didn't know the meaning of stop. As challenging as that could be – as fucking annoying – was something Hank loved about his boy. Was thankful for. Made things a little bit easier – even when it didn't.

But E had spent a good part of the day crouched down in his catcher's stance. So no fucking kidding he was hurting. With the special knee saver supports they'd gotten for the kid, that still wasn't a position that anyone should be in for hours. But there was another thing about Magoo. Stubborn as fuck and knew how to grit his teeth and push on through pain and discomfort. As a parent that hurt a bit. Knowing he had to do that. But Voight also knew deep down that it was what was going to make his boy a good man. A strong man. Maybe his other son hadn't had to grin and bear it enough when he was little. Erin had to. Eth was having to. Maybe that's where him and Camille failed with Justin. Maybe they'd coddled him a little too much when he was little and their only.

Hank had tried to get Erin and Halstead to have the kids switch up what they were doing out on the field so Eth wasn't just playing catching. But his son seemed most interested in a good ol' sandlot scrimmage for most of the afternoon. Especially after that kid from his team had shown up. The pitcher. Eth's pitcher really. The two of them seemed pretty paired off on the team. Was good, though. It was looking like the two might be hitting it off. Maybe there was some hope of Magoo making some friends on that team. Another little girl from the team had come out to the barbecue too. Seemed hopeful. Progress. No one from St. Ignatius or the Robotics team had come out beyond Max. And as nice as the kid was, Voight got that he was a bit of a charity case for Eth. But maybe that'd grow and evolve too. He knew Eth could be a bit of a charity case too. Sometimes you jut had to look at that for what it was and not thumb up your nose at it. Sometimes everyone needed a hand up. You going to take the hand, you gotta be there to lend the hand sometimes too.

"Which one you want?" Hank asked as he got to the door and brushed by his boy. But Eth followed after him – in the dark, without his brace or crutches and clearly moving more than a little awkwardly and stiffly.

"I'll come," E said. "It's hot up here."

Voight glanced at him and thought about telling him to stay put. He hated when his kid tried to navigate the stairs in the dark. He was so awkward on stairs even in daylight. He really fucking hated that they only had the one bathroom in the house at that point. You'd think it would've driven him nutty when there were five of them in the house – including two teenagers – all competing for bathroom time and hot water and a can to take a dump in. But it hadn't. Then he could just bark at them to hurry up and to shut up. It was now watching his boy struggle to get up the stairs in an easy fashion that had him calling in contractors to try to figure out if they could get some sort of half-bath on the main level. It was going to be an ordeal, though. Was likely one he was just going to have to cope with, though.

"It's stuffy," he allowed, and instead positioned himself ahead of his son. At least that way if the kid took a stumble, he'd be in front of him to grab him and keep him from going the rest of the way down the stairs in a tumble.

"It's gross," E said. "Can I sleep on the couch?"

Hank gave him a glance and let out a little sigh. "You'll hurt more if you sleep on the couch," he said. "I'll get the window units in this week."

"That's what you said last year," E said.

Voight cast him a more warning glance as he got to the bottom of the stairs and waited for Magoo to navigate the rest of the way down. He was gripping the railing for dear life and propping himself up with his hand against the opposite wall. He should've gone into his son's room and grabbed the kid's crutches himself if he was going to let him tail him downstairs. Shouldn't have let him, because now it sounded like it was likely going to be a fight to get him back upstairs.

E caught his look. "What?" he protested. "Erin says you say it every year. That you'd say it to mom and that you haven't actually put them in since mom died."

Hank smacked his lips at him at that. "Docs say we need to keep you cool, so they'll get put in," he said.

Eth sighed heavily at him as he got his feet back on flat ground. Voight took that as his cue to start heading for the pill cupboard in the kitchen.

"Well, can I sleep in your room then?" Eth near whined after him. "At least you have windows on both sides and like cross wind or whatever."

Hank allowed a sound of amusement at that and looked over his shoulder at him. "No," he said flatly.

Kid had to be real sick for him to put up with him crawling into to bed with him. This didn't meet those requirements. After chemo did. Pumped full of drugs and running a fever from meningitis did. Massive flare with weeks in the hospital and a catheter shoved up his dick and into his bladder did. The upstairs being stuffy didn't. He didn't need to monitor his son's well being all night just because they'd hit summer weather. And wasn't about to give up his bedroom to his kid either. Made lots of other accommodations to deal with his boy's illness. Moving out the master bedroom and his marital bed wasn't going to be one of them.

He yanked open the upper cupboard and looked back at his son who looked over-tired, overly sore, and trying real hard to put on a bit of a sulk. Actually by the looks of him, Hank wasn't feeling so sure it'd been a great idea to get Cubs tickets for the next day. If he didn't get Eth's pain managed and him asleep soon, he wasn't sure his boy was going to be in much of a position to enjoy the outing and the game.

"So which one you think we should go with tonight?" he put to him again. "How much you hurting?"

Ethan shrugged. "I guess just the Naproxen," he said.

Hank eyed him and measured that – measured him. Sizing him up in making his own decision on the level of pain mediation his boy needed that night and contrasting it again the state of being he needed his boy to be in by abouts noon. Not much more than ten or so hours from then. So even though he knew that he sorta wanted to give him one of the heavier duty medications to knock out the pain, he knew that his boy would still be feeling pretty hungover from it by that time of day. So it was likely best to go the Naproxen route, even though it seemed to take a good 90 minutes or more to kick in and its pain relief never seemed that thorough from what Magoo said. It never seemed to last that long for him either. Nearly was always having to give him secondary doses and the docs sure didn't like them popping more than two a day to Eth given how hard it was on his liver. If it wasn't his liver, it was his fucking kidneys that medication was tearing apart while the fucking disease ravished his fucking nervous system. Fucking cruel realities.

But, Hank just nodded and turned a couple of the bottles to retrieve the pills. It was right at the front. Eth had already had a dose of it back in the morning to get him functional for the day. Now he was having to give him it again to let him sleep from being functional for the day. This is fucking why people developed problems with pharmaceuticals. He hated it. But hated his kid being in pain too.

"I'm going to give you the med to help your stomach out with this one too," Hank muttered at him as he popped the lid off and retrieved a pill to had to his boy.

But Eth made a face at that. "I don't like those pills," he said. "They make me sleepy."

"You are sleepy," Hank said. "You need to sleep."

Eth gazed at him. "It's not a good sleep, Dad," he said. "They make me feel weird."

Hank scrubbed his face and weighed his boy for a second. "Then you've got to eat something with it," he muttered and moved over to the fridge to look inside for some kind of idea. It'd be so much easier if he could just give his kid a glass of milk to get his stomach lined but that wasn't much of an option anymore. But E had a solution to that.

"Cake?!" he suggested.

Hank let out an amused noise and looked back over his shoulder at his kid. Normally he'd smack down that idea in an instant but the way Eth had said it and the way his eyes had just lit up at the thought, Voight let himself cave. Maybe some fucking chocolate therapy would do the kid some good. Maybe better than these fucking pharmaceuticals.

"You want cake?" Hank put to him.

E nodded with some clear surprise that his dad hadn't shut that down. "It's so good, Dad. I basically couldn't believe I was allowed to have. I kept thinking you were going to say that it was a mistake and it had bad stuff in it and come and take it away from me."

Voight gave him a little smile at that, but reached to retrieve the leftover of the cake from the fridge. Hadn't been a whole lot leftover. It'd been a hit. Though, he might've managed to preserve more for his kid to enjoy if he'd let the other kids at the party in on the fact that it was almond flour, unsweetened coconut milk, apple sauce and bananas that were making up the cake that had the actual texture of cake and that it was avocado and coconut oil that was making up the icing – hiding the green color with a whole lot of cocoa powder. Only sweetener in it was a bit of maple syrup.

Hank actually couldn't believe it was some sort of modified cake either, Laura had pulled it off so well. Would be indebted to her for that one. Would be giving Diego a nice little tip to put towards his football camp. His mom might've figured out the recipe but the kid had done the baking and the icing – under his mom's watchful. It'd all worked out real well. Hell, if Olive and J really did have Henry up for his first birthday, he might ask her about doing up another cake so that Eth could get in on it then too.

He put the box on the counter and moved over to grab a knife out the block, giving his boy a glance.

"You gonna let me have a piece too?" he asked. It was sorta rhetorical but in actuality if his boy had put up a fuss about it – about wanting to keep the leftovers all to himself – he would've respected it. He'd gotten the cake for Magoo. Kid didn't get treats and sweets every day. Voight could go grab a dessert he didn't need any time he wanted. But E didn't even seem to think before giving him a nod – because he was like that. Not a self-centered kid. "Grab a couple plates," he instructed.

He worked on getting a couple slices cut. They were really just slivers. Neither of them needed that much of a chocolate rush before trying to get some shuteye. Besides, he knew his boy would want to enjoy a bigger piece with his lunch or dinner the next day. So needed to preserve.

Eth clattered a couple plates on the counter next to Voight and he gave a glance. "We doing a scoop of ice cream with this too?"

His son grin grew wider and he moved to hobble to the freezer to retrieve the little container of sugar-free coconut milk ice cream that Hank had to search high and low for and pay a bloody arm and a leg for. But he knew how his boy felt about ice cream. There were few things that his son lamented about missing with his now heavily regulated diet. But one of the things he did mention all the time was the fucking ice cream.

While his son retrieved that, he plopped the slices of cake onto the plates and filled a big glass of water for his boy to down that pill with. He handed the cup to E as he came back – in exchange for the ice cream. E gulped down the pill – with less water than Hank would like but he'd make him down the rest while he was washing down the cake.

He got to work scooping the ice cream. Just a little scoop each. Felt a little bad about taking a scoop of the kid's ice cream, but what was birthday cake without ice cream?

He used his finger to unceremoniously get the little round of frozen treat to fall onto the one slice and was turning back to get the next scoop when his boy's arms were suddenly around him. Voight stiffened in some surprise but then patted at his boy's shoulder.

"Thank you for giving me a nice birthday, Dad," he said quietly. "I had a lot of fun."

Hank smiled a little and rubbed roughly at his back. "Glad you did, Magoo," he assured.

He was real glad he did.

But somehow that grip his boy had on him made him wonder yet again what he'd done wrong with his oldest. How'd he manage to get this relationship with his youngest? He thought his youngest had a whole lot more reason to hate him. But he didn't. E still came to him with things. Wanted him in his life. And maybe that would fade now that he was a teenager. Maybe they were about to go on the inevitable path of fathers and sons butting heads. But he just knew he wanted to – needed to – do better with E than he did with Justin. Because he'd done something to fuck up there.

They'd lost their way and as much as they'd tried, he was really starting to wonder if they were ever going to right that ship.

He was just going to have to make sure he didn't let his and Eth's ship get too far off course in the first place. Because there was something to be said about sharing cake and ice cream with your kid at two in the morning. He didn't want to lose that.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: The chapter before this was added on a less than 24 hour turnaround. Please make sure you didn't miss it. Your reviews and feedback are much appreciated.**


	105. Invitation

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER IS SET IN JUNE.**

Jay glanced up as Voight came out of his office – clearly leaving for the day – but paused in front of his desk and wrapped his fist against it. It made Jay look at him more firmly – suspecting he was about to be told to put in unpaid OT on some sort of case that he wasn't supposed to ask too many questions about. But instead Voight just rasped at him, "You fish."

Jay gazed at him a little confused – briefly casting his eyes to Erin across the way. She was watching the exchange – staring at it really – with a complexion that looked a little surprised but almost as confused as Jay. Jay wasn't really sure where the question was coming from. Or even if it was a question. It sounded kinda like a statement coming out of Voight's mouth.

"Ah … yea … I fish," Jay allowed somewhat questioningly.

It wasn't an outright lie. He did fish. He liked fishing. A lot, actually. But he hadn't actually been out fishing in a long time. Like probably since he joined Intelligence. Actually, maybe more like since he'd been in CPD. It didn't seem like he got a lot of downtime – both by choice and because of the nature of the work.

But Voight just grunted some sort of acceptance at his response and reached to shove his hands into the pockets of the leather jacket he was wearing that was the only indication that he had been heading for the door. Though, that pace seemed to have slowed now.

"Takin' Ethan this weekend. Kankakee River. You been?"

"Ahh …" Jay examined him a little slacked jaw, still trying to figure out what this was. It sort of felt like some sort of weird trap. "Maybe? When I was a kid."

"Mmm," Voight grunted again and rocked momentarily on the balls of his feet – looking right back at him. He was clearly less impressed with that answer. Because it likely betrayed that his "yea … I fish" answer hadn't been entirely accurate at least in the present tense. "Got gear?"

"Yea …" Jay allowed.

It was also a partial lie. He had gear. But he was about 90 per cent that all of it was up at his grandfather's cabin. Because when he managed to get up there was also about the only time he managed to the whole outdoor thing.

"Good," Voight nodded with a small approval but then added. "Good smallie out there. Catfish too. Campground's kinda of shit but …" he shrugged.

"OK …" Jay allowed.

Voight nodded. "OK," he said again, bouncing his hands in those pockets and then starting to walk away.

He didn't even acknowledge Erin in his departure. But both him and Erin watched Voight leave and disappear down the steps until their eyes snapped back to each other.

"OK, he really needs to work on his conversational techniques," Jay put to her.

Erin snorted and raised her eyebrow. "Jay, that wasn't a conversation. That was an invitation."

He screwed his face at her. "An invitation? To what?"

She let out an amused sound and shook her head, looking back to finishing up whatever she was doing at her desk. "To go fishing – and camping – with him and Eth this weekend."

Jay let out his own amused sound. "That wasn't an invitation."

Erin's eyes went back to him, cocking her head. "Not only was it an invitation, it was an invitation you just accepted."

He gaped at her. "I did not accept that 'invitation'," he said.

"You said 'ok'," she provided.

"Because rather than grunt, I form actually words to acknowledge someone is speaking," he said.

"And accepted the invitation in the process," she put to him bluntly.

"Voight would not invite me to go fishing with him and Eth," he pressed back at her.

"I would've agreed with that statement about three minutes ago – but now, it seems that he would and he did," she said.

Jay looked at her firmly. "I am NOT going fishing with Voight and Ethan."

She shook her head, giving her shoulders a shrug. "OK, you tell him that. You want a preview of the face he'll give you," she said and provided one of Voight's grunts of disapproval that really sounded more like a growl. Thankfully she stopped herself from providing a preview of the look. Because Jay knew the look and it was pretty unattractive on Voight. It was beyond unattractive when he saw Voight in Erin. Apparently adoption of humans is like adoption of dogs – eventually you start to look alike. Or at least you learn each other's mannerisms way too much.

"I'm not going fishing with them," he muttered again and looked back to his own progress on closing up what he had opened on his screen so he could get out of there.

But he could feel her giving him a glare across the divide and glanced at her. "He's trying, Jay. You don't go – he might not try again. You realize that most of the time if you get mentioned outside of work, he still calls you Halstead."

Jay shrugged. "That's my name."

"It's not at home," she huffed at him.

He gave her a look. "I am not going fishing with 'dad' and Ethan. That's some sort of cruel and unusual punishment for … what? What crime did I commit?"

"You're sleeping with me," she provided.

"Ah, yeah," Jay said. "So this might actually be some sort of ambush. A suicide mission. Not down with that."

"I think he probably would've sent you on one of those before if that was his plan," she cocked an eyebrow at him again. "And, a suicide mission isn't really his style. Likes to manage those kinds of outcomes on his own terms."

"Right …" Jay nodded. "So going out into the woods with him seems like a real good idea."

Erin snorted. "It's a state park, Jay. On Father's Day weekend. At a fishing derby. I'm pretty sure there will be enough witnesses to deter whatever kind of cruel and unusual torture Hank might have planned."

"Or maybe it all is part of the plan," Jay put back to her. "Operate in plain sight."

"Mmm …" Erin nodded. "Yeah, watch out for those fish hooks."

"Camping. I'm sure there will be hatchets and knives too."

"You better look out," she said. "He might ask you to fillet a fish or chop some fire wood. You don't want to know what he does to people who can't manage those fireside chores."

He rolled his eyes at her and watched her but she wasn't looking. She was standing and still trailing around her mouse, flipping shut the files on her desk, before reaching to pull on her coat, casting him a look that clearly said to hurry up if he wanted to be leaving with her. So he did – reaching and flipping on the monitor and fucking the rest.

"You seem to know a lot about this trip," he put to her as they started to make for the back stairs. "Are you going?"

She snorted at him and cast him a look over her shoulder like he'd lost his mind. "Umm, no. My eighteenth birthday exempted me from the mandatory family wilderness tours."

"I thought you just said it's Father's Day," Jay put back to her.

She shrugged. "I'll get him a card."

She started trotting down the steps and he kept pace behind her. "So you're saying I've got the choice of a weekend sans Voight and Eth – which happens … pretty much never. Or a weekend stuck alone with Eth and Voight. I don't think we need to think too deeply on what the answer to that proposition is."

"Oh, you might," she told him, as she pushed open the heavy metal side door and held it for him and then gestured at her car. "Because I think you're forgetting part of the equation to come up with the correct response."

"Yea, what part's that?" he put to her, as she unlocked the doors and they both slid into their seats.

She looked him directly in the eyes. "That you are sleeping with his daughter," she said as she cranked the ignition. "And sorta told him you want to marry her."

"So that makes spending time with Eth and Voight – alone – the only correct answer?"

She nodded, putting the car into drive and stepping on the gas. "Yea, pretty much."

He slumped back into his seat and watched as she turned out of the parking lot. He shifted in his seat to look at her. "Hasn't he told you that he wants more grandkids?"

Erin shrugged without even glancing at him from the road. "Yeah …"

"So don't you think this would be way better Father's Day for everyone involved if Voight and Ethan went and did their Voight and Ethan things and we stayed here – alone – and maybe worked on that whole grandkids thing," he cocked an eyebrow at her.

She looked at him patronizingly. "I don't think so."

His shoulder slumped into the seat again and then gestured. "Is it the kids part or the sex part that you're saying 'I don't think so' to. Because just so we're clear I'm proposing a weekend pretty much of –"

"Jay—" she sighed at him, trying – and failing – to hide her amused little smile. She was so fucking cute when he did that.

But he still sighed and shifted his back into his seat, propping his elbow on the ledge and gazing out the window. "I really don't want to do a weekend alone with Voight and your brother," he muttered.

She glanced his way. "You spend time alone with Ethan all the time."

"That's different," he put flatly. "And it's in limited doses."

Erin made an amused sound and gave him a look. He caught her eyes. "It won't be that bad," she assured.

"Then why aren't you coming?"

"Ah, for one, I wasn't invited," she said.

"Come," he put to her – giving her a puppy dog look and whine to go along with it.

"Jay…"

"Please," he whined and gave her a little boy pout.

She rolled her eyes. "Maybe Hank wants some alone time with you."

"And that is certifiably terrifying," Jay put to her. "I think I might go back into theater rather than voluntarily spend alone time with Voight."

"You won't be alone with him," Erin said. "You'll have Eth to protect you." Jay gave her a disgusted look. "It's not like Hank wants to talk to either of you while he's fishing anyways," she pressed. "He might …" she did one of his grunts again, "to acknowledge your existence on occasion."

He just sighed and looked back out the window.

Erin let out an exasperated noise. He could feel her looking at him when she should be looking at the road, so he turned and caught her eyes.

"He's trying, Jay," she pressed at him again. "That's big for him. Please try back."


	106. What Fatherhood Looks Like

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 104 - INVITATION.**

Jay let out a little sigh and stared at the roof of his tent as he measured if he was ready to get up and go and face alone time with Voight again. He'd sort of hoped that Ethan would get up and then he would be able to focus his energies on making chit-chat with him. But that wasn't happening. Voight had been up and on the move for a good twenty-minutes and somehow Ethan was sleeping through it. Jay wasn't sure how.

He was pretty sure he'd heard Voight from about the moment he'd been awake. Or at least the moment he'd stepped out of his and Eth's tent. Because he'd called the dog. Or rather barked at the dog to get out of the tent with him.

It was funny because Jay knew from experience that Voight could move really quietly. The guy fucking sneaked up on you sometimes. And a whole fucking lot of those sometimes were inopportune times. But as soon as he started talking, his cover was blown. Jay didn't think the guy knew how to whisper. Likely couldn't even if he wanted to with that gravel of his. And then there was the fact he just didn't give a fuck. He had his own fucking ideas about when people should be up and on the go – which seemed to pretty much coincide with when he got up on and the go. So then he had no qualms about fucking banging around.

Jay had experienced at the guy's house. He pretty much thought the was doing it purposely then to completely display his distaste that he'd had the gull to sleep over – in his daughter's bed, with her in it. Like who the fuck pulls out the vacuum at 6 a.m. on a Saturday? Nobody. But Voight sure fucking did, even though Erin insisted that it wasn't that uncommon for him. Jesus Fuck. That was bad enough at the house. But he took the clatter to a whole new level in the great outdoors.

Jay had heard his boots stomp over to the edge of their site and had rather distinctively heard him take a leak before he came back to the firepit and set about getting the fire going again and then banging around more in what Jay could only assume was starting to make breakfast.

He held his wrist above his head and gazed at his watch. The guy was likely looking to have some food on the go to get Eth's pills into him. But still. That seriously could've waited another hour. Not that Jay had really slept anyways. He was all for the outdoors, but he'd done enough sleeping on the ground in the Rangers. He wasn't a pussy about it – but he'd take a bunk in the cabin any day over this. He was clearly getting fucking old.

Though, he didn't have the fucking set up that Voight had over in his and Eth's tent. They had a fucking air mattress in their tent. And not just a little one for Eth. It was a fucking double or queen or whatever so they could both share it. It was clearly a new purchase and it'd been a pain in the ass to get inflated. He actually hadn't seen Voight swear that much since he had pliers in the face of some guy in the cage. It wasn't as "self-inflating" as advertised. But Jay got it. He didn't want Eth sleeping on the ground and getting a chill. And, not that Jay would point it out to the guy, but he wasn't exactly a spring chicken either to be sleeping in the dirt. Though, Jay was pretty sure the guy had likely slept shittier places in shittier ways in his time. Lock-up included. But he probably deserved it. Still, the mattress looked a whole lot more comfortable than the sleeping arrangement he had going on in his little pup tent across the way. Though, getting his shit set up had involved a lot less swearing. Been done a lot quicker too. Because the tent Voight had definitely looked like he'd probably bought it when Justin was little like twenty-odd years ago. Either that or it was his wife's from whatever 'biology thingies' she did.

He was sure that the wife's career was likely more interesting than that but that was pretty much the extent of the description he'd received from Erin: "Camille did biology things". The follow-up questions had resulted in, "Something to do with fish." Clearly whatever it was made great dinner table discussion since Erin seemed clueless and Voight was not the kind of person you made chit-chat with about his dead wife. So that was likely about as much as he was going to know about the woman career-wise. But Jay often thought the less you knew about Voight – the better, even now. Maybe especially now since he was sleeping in some campground with a whole fucking lot of tools he could use to inflict pain on him if he wanted.

Actually the whole exercise could've been painful, but it wasn't proving as bad as he'd thought it would. Eth had been chatty on the way out to the park but that was about as bad as it got and Voight clearly wasn't down with the chit-chat either. He'd turned on the radio and repeatedly turned it up until Eth got the message and sat there looking out the window. After they got settled at the campground – and endured the swear-fest of getting their site set up – they'd walked over to the fishing derby. And, Erin was right, after Hank and Eth got their gear set-up, they'd had zero interest in communicating with him – or each other.

Voight had gone over and helped Eth out a few times with getting his lined baited. He'd shown some interest that almost resembled pride when the kid had hauled in some catches. But other than that, they'd all pretty much done their own thing while they were out there. About the only thing Voight had said to him was, "You got anything biting?" No. He'd asked what kind of lure he was using then grunted some acknowledgement and then retrieved something out of his and Eth's tackle box and told him to try it instead. He'd managed to hook something then. But that had also just earned a grunt of acknowledgement and it hadn't been big enough to keep. So it'd been tossed back.

There were a lot of people out for the derby weekend, though. Jay supposed that wasn't so surprising. Seemed like it was kind of a big event. Voight had spouted off something about it being its 29th year. That they'd taken Justin when he was little. Erin and Eth too. Father's Day weekend thing for their family. By the looks of it, it was a Father's Day weekend thing for a lot of families. But that whole concept was a little foreign to Jay. He supposed he sort of remembered maybe doing some Father's Day craft projects back when he was in grade school but he couldn't recall ever actually doing anything as a family. Funny. You'd think his dad would've wanted them to dote on him and cater to him on "his" day. But he treated every fucking day like he should be idolized and catered to. And the reality was there was no fucking day he really had any interest in catering to him and his bullshit. That had faded real quick when he was a kid. He couldn't imagine doing it now. Did grown men do something for their dads on Father's Day? Apparently, because Will had touched base – like he always fucking did – to see if he wanted to join him and dad. The answer was no. And Erin had given him some lecture about trying to get Ethan and Voight out of there by about noon on Sunday so that Justin would get an opportunity to webcam with his dad in the afternoon and so they could take him out to dinner. So much for her claim that she was just getting him a card.

But with the number of people along the shore on Saturday, it sure seemed like there was a real competition to manage to pull much of anything in. With all that activity, the fish would be smart to just hide out in the deepest parts of the river – way out from the shore – and wait the derby out. But fish weren't that fucking bright. They were at a disadvantage anyways. There were enough people in canoes that it likely didn't matter where they were hiding out. Didn't exactly make for a real quiet fishing experience. But Voight had commented on that in passing, saying it was the only derby they went to and it was just because of tradition. Only there that year because E had asked to go. Though, Jay didn't get the sense that Voight had any real qualms about being there.

Still, it'd actually only been Eth who'd pulled anything out of the water that they could keep. Kid was happy with that, though. It'd been a catfish, which the kid seemed really excited for his dad to fry up. Jay wasn't big on catfish – and he didn't think the fish looked big enough that it'd feed all three of them anyways – but Voight managed to snag a smallie just after he'd called out a five minute warning to E. So that'd worked out OK.

Dinner had been good. But he'd learned to expect that from Voight. The one thing that made spending time at Voight's house so he could spend time with Erin be tolerable was the fact that the guy knew how to cook. Made putting up with the rest of the Voight-isms (which didn't just come from Voight – his fucking kids, his own fiancée included, were just as bad as him) while he was in the house manageable. The surprising part was that Voight managed to pull it off over a camp fire. He'd pretty much expected that the guy would have some sort of little gas camp stove he'd pull out, but he hadn't. Jay's vague comment about that had just resulted in some grunt about not liking to grab surplus gear when it was just an overnight.

It was weird to watch Voight in just a dad situation. He'd seen him in them before. But this was different. Eth was pretty much getting his undivided attention and that was just not something that Jay had ever related to fathers. Or maybe it was what he'd thought fathers should be – at least in these kinds of situations – but it wasn't what he'd ever had. And, it was strange to see it in Voight. But he'd pretty much spent a year half-ways embedded with the family. Voight was full of fucking surprises. Some good. Some fucking bad. And some Jay just fucking wished he didn't know – because he still didn't want to know them. For as much as he'd previously thought he wanted to know about Voight – about if he was a good cop or a dirty cop, if he should learn from him or keep his distance – now he didn't really want to know any of that. He'd come to his own answers over his years in Intelligence. And some of his answers had been solidified that year as he'd got to see Voight as the father.

Sure, he'd known that he was Erin's "dad". Only it wasn't really with air quotes anymore. The guy was her dad even though she never really called him that. Ever. But knowing he was Erin's dad – or dad-like figure or whatever the hell she wanted to think of him as – was completely different than seeing him as an actual dad. Him doing actual daily fathering and parenting and grunt work in the trenches with raising Ethan. It'd been a strange light to see him under. Because it was so abundantly clear how much he cared about his kids. Just what extremes he'd go to for them. Sometimes fucking scary, illegal, ridiculous extremes. He'd bark at Ethan. Be ridiculously firm and stern with him with that same tone he pulled out with Erin at work. Sometimes the same tone he pulled out in the interrogation room at work. He had so many fucking rules and boundaries, that Jay didn't know how the kid fucking kept up. But then he'd go and do just ridiculously nice dad stuff that you wouldn't ever envision Voight doing if you only ever dealt with him inside the District – especially if you weren't part of his inner circle. He'd throw Ethan a fucking birthday party. He'd take him to Cub games. He'd get out to not just his ball games – but his practices. He'd book fucking furlough so he could chaperone the kid's Robotics trip and go sit in the stands on weekends to watch those fucking day-long tournaments.

And then he'd just do something like this. Take the kid out camping and fishing on Father's Day weekend – not necessarily because it was what Voight wanted to do for Father's Day but because it was what his kid wanted to do. That he let the kid bring the dog along. Hell, he'd let the kid keep the fucking dog, when Jay had been pretty sure that Erin dragging that mutt home had meant that they'd just got themselves a dog. He'd gone over and tossed the ball around with Ethan for a good long-time. He'd had fucking bananas and all sorts of fixings pre-chopped and blended to put on top to make banana boats over the campfire because he knew his kid couldn't have marshmallows but would want to be roasting something as soon as it got dark. And, he'd sat there with a flashlight reading a chapter out loud to a fucking thirteen year old because Ethan still struggled with his reading and his sight and his comprehension but getting those pages read to him had become so part of the routine he needed to settle down and go to sleep that Voight didn't care that they were out in public while he was doing it and Jay was sure that the campers on either side of them were likely hearing him gravel out the novel too.

It was so much stuff that had been almost hard for him to look at – to experience – because it wasn't what he'd had. It wasn't that he didn't know that other people had better fathers than his. Because he did. The bar was pretty low. It wouldn't take much for most to leap over it. But still, somehow he hadn't seen Voight that way. The Voight you saw at work – even though you could occasionally see soft spots and a soft underbelly, that you knew he wasn't all bad just based on things that popped up – it wasn't that man, though. You didn't see that family man on the job. He was fucking tough. He could be fucking intimidating to some. And you knew when to hold your tongue around him. Or at least Jay did. If you were going to speak to Voight, it better be to say something that was worthwhile.

That standard stuck at home too. It'd stuck the night before. After Ethan had gotten down for the night, him and Voight had ended up sitting in front of the fire for a while. A pretty good while. They hadn't talked. They'd both just nursed a couple beers and stared at the flames. Voight had poked at it a bit but hadn't tried to make any sort of small talk. So Jay hadn't either. He didn't have anything of importance to say. So he'd just kept quiet. Eventually Voight had said he was going to turn in, told Jay to deal with making sure the fire burned down or get it snuffed out, and he'd disappeared.

He'd heard him talking to Ethan a bit in the tent. Must've waked him going in. He'd called the mutt to get up on the air mattress to help keep the kid warm by the sounds of it and then there'd been some quiet talk before he distinctively heard Eth say, "Love you, Dad" and Voight replying with out any kind of hesitation – just fucking fact – "Love you too, Magoo. Get some sleep."

And Jay couldn't imagine saying that to his father. He couldn't imagine his father saying that to him. But he'd sat there thinking that, if he had kids, that's the kind of father he'd want to be. The one that was at the games and at the fishing derby and making sure they were OK no matter way – and telling them they were loved. Not because the kid just said they loved you, but because you really did love them. And you showed them that in lots of fucking little ways every day – not matter how rough and tough and gruff your exterior was.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Taking votes on if you want a follow on this. Thinking could to a mostly Jay/Hank actually talking that morning with some Ethan-isms too. Alternatively could do the dinner scene, which would likely be mostly Ethan telling Erin stuff and Hank being Hank.**


	107. Old Fashioned

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 105 - WHAT FATHERHOOD LOOKS LIKE.**

Hank looked up from his work at dicing up some potatoes and onions to toss in the skillet. Halstead's tent unzipped and the man stumbled a little stiffly out of his tent. Had seen the guy more times then he'd like looked like he'd just woke up – in his house no less, usually stumbling out of his daughter's room in his briefs headed for the john, which pretty much made him want to give them both a damn whack up the side of the head. It was what it was – but it didn't need to be going on under his roof. But the family had enough bullshit going on that he hadn't had it out with Erin on the matter yet. Though, he'd given her more than enough looks that she should know his stance on the matter – and so should he.

Didn't much like hanky-panky going on in his house – not by his kids. Didn't really care how old they were. And if Halstead was going to sleepover, he would've preferred that not happen until there was more than an engagement ring moving on and off her finger. And if they really had to have him hanging around now, the least he could do was put on some pants and a fucking shirt before heading to the can in the morning. At least the guy put on clothes before coming downstairs. Didn't seem to much care about the bedhead, though.

Definitely didn't care about the bedhead that morning either. Guy didn't really look like he'd done much sleeping. But camping wasn't really designed for sleeping. Snoozing maybe. Good night's sleep. Not so much.

He'd done OK, though. Decent enough, considering he was in a tent with his kid and a fucking dog. Air in that confined space had definitely smelled like ass when he'd bailed out of there a while ago. Could only breath in fucking teenaged boy and dog breath so long. Didn't bode well for what Eth's bedroom was going to be smelling like that summer as the real heat and humidity started setting in, that's for sure.

But the air mattress had at least made getting a bit of shuteye manageable. Made him wonder why he'd held out so long on ever getting one. Likely would've made the whole camping thing a lot more tolerable when the kids were little too. Then Mom and Dad became the fucking air mattress – and body heater too. Little fucks.

God thing he liked his kids.

Most of the time.

Eth had slept good, though. That was the important part. He'd been pretty concerned that this camping trip might blow up in his face. Completely wipe out the kid. Leave him chilled to the bone or sunstroked – or both at the same time – and just sending him towards another flare. So then they'd could get a summer for dealing with more hospital and doctor bullshit than usual.

But he seemed to be doing OK.

Hank had been impressed. Held his own the day before. Wasn't too big of help with set up after the early rising and the drive out to the park. But he'd been OK with that. Happy to just let the kid rest so he could actually be able to participate in the fishing. Had him a little finicky with that. Magoo kept wading out into the water on those unsteady legs of his and the current was giving him a sway. Had taken more than one tumble into the river and got dragged a bit before he managed to dig his heels in. Even then he didn't have dexterity to get himself upright and he'd had to wade over and yank him back to his feet and support him getting back to shore. Not that he'd stayed on the shore for too long. Seemed to think he needed to be out in the water to cast his line the way he wanted and to be hooking the fish he wanted. Maybe he was right. E hauled in more than him and Halstead. But the kid was just a stubborn little fucker. Sometimes Hank worried the way he tested his limits was going to blow up in his face eventually. The whole family's fucking face. But he also wanted the kid to keep testing them. To figure this shit out for himself. To just keep moving forward within his means. But it was a hard road. For all of them.

Eth had come up on shore and sunk into the gravel for a good while. He'd pretended like he was taking a keen interest in going through the tackle. Checking out all the dated lures they had in there. If the kid kept showing interest in fishing that summer, maybe they'd have to do a bit of updating and invest in a couple new toys. He'd wait to see how much they actual got out and how much Magoo actually seemed to like it after he remembered what the whole fishing and camping thing was actually like, though. Or just how much of the whole teenaged thing – uninterested in everything, too cool for everyone – set in. Very well might be the last summer Eth had much of an interest in doing anything with any of them.

Hank could tell, though, it wasn't the lures that Magoo was interested in. His body was telling him it needed a break and he was actually listening. Voight had asked him if he needed to head back to the campsite for a bit to lay down for a while, but he'd got a dirty look. No fucking thirteen-year-old likes it being wagged in front of them that it's nearing their usual afternoon burn-out period – which with M.S. pretty much equated nap time. It was near fucking clockwork with Magoo – had been since he'd gone through the medical trial. By about two in the afternoon – he needed some rest. At school, he got paraded off to the nursing station. At home, he got permission to take some time up in his room. Didn't usually let his boy hide away in his room all day but it worked better for both of them than Voight acknowledging that his teenager needed a nap. He usually did, though. If he went up and checked on him, Eth was usually passed out. If he happened to miss the burn-out deadline, he'd usually realize the house was way too fucking quiet and then find E passed out on the couch or on the floor in the middle of his Snap Circuits or baseball cards or videogame or Cubs game still on the television.

That day, though, he just told Magoo to go sit in the shade when he'd cast him that dirty look. Told him to eat an apple and suck back a bottle of water. And, he'd listened. Hauling his mom's old tackle with him up the little embankment and propping himself up against one of the big, shady trees.

Hank had glanced back at him occasionally. Had seen him eating one of the apples like he'd been told and still shifting through all the gadgets and knick-knacks and paraphernalia his mom had collected for the family over the years in their fishing gear haul. Looked back once more and had seen him slumped right up against the trunk with his cap pulled down over his eyes and Voight guessed he'd really let himself nod off, but he just let him. Focused on making some minor chit-chat with Halstead instead who seemed to be having even less luck at catching anything than him.

But then Magoo had appeared back on the shoreline and needed some help readying his line. Had waded in and fished a bit more at that. Seemed content with it even though they were hauling in any of the tagged fish to win any of the derby prizes and most of what he was getting were so small they were having to throw them back anyways. But the kid was happy, so Hank was happy with that. Let him have at it for another bit for telling him it was time to wrap up. E was only supposed to get so much sun with all the meds he was on. Thought with the breeze and him giving himself soakers in the water, he was likely keeping cool enough, but still didn't want to risk a flare. Didn't want to risk him letting himself get chilled to the bone, either. So, he drew the line on when to call it quits.

And it'd been a good line to draw because Eth had taken another little nap – disguised as him slumped in his camp chair with his headphones on and his cap pulled way down again – when they got back to their site. Stirred and asked for some catch before dinner. Bear had likely liked that more than the kid. Damn monkey in the middle. But maybe they'd run the fucking dog to exhaustion too so he wouldn't be a pain in the ass that night. Still a damn puppy no matter how big he'd gotten in six-months. A bumbling doofus of a dog, but real loyal to Magoo – and housebroken – so that was enough for now.

Kid had been perfectly happy after tossing the ball back and forth for a while to come back and chat at Jay and help out with dinner. Had pretty much run his mouth off while they were trying to eat. But that was Magoo. Voight had mostly given up on trying to manage that. It was actually usually easier to get him to put some food in his mouth if his lips were flapping. And sometimes he provided some vital information in the whole trying to relate to the kid thing, which some days was pretty fucking difficult. Hadn't been too concerned about that with J or Erin. But they had Camille to care about that kind of shit. Cater to it. He needed to try a little bit harder with E to at least sort of pretend to be vaguely interested in some of the bullshit he was interested in. Or to highlight for the fucking kid what actually wasn't bullshit and was worthwhile and was maybe something he should be thinking about and talking about a little bit more rather than some of this other crap.

Campfire – letting the kid get that going and jab at it with a stick and still spinning around with that hot branch's ambers like it was a fucking sparkler and he was fucking five years old. But he let him. Let him do that. Let him stuff his face again with banana boats topped with chopped up pecans and shredded coconut and carob nibs and puréed dates and almond-hazelnut butter that he ate out of the jar. About the most expensive campfire treat Hank had ever let any of his kids indulge in – this was no fucking marshmallows or s'mores or roasted hotdogs on a stick, that was for damn sure. But Magoo put away two of the damn things and with the way his kid ate, Hank would've let him have a third if he wanted it. But after he'd had two, he started drifting and was ready to hit the sack – his new sleeping sack that he actually seemed pretty fucking anxious to test out. But it was actually getting a little cool out, even by the fire.

He'd been stuck with Halstead after Magoo called it quits. But didn't really have to talk to him. Guy was pretty good at knowing that not every moment needed to be blabbed through.

Now, though, it was morning and E still wasn't up. So it was looking like he was going to have to attempt to be friendly with the guy again.

Funny that the whole point of the weekend was to be sort of friendly with the guy. He'd earned it. Done right by Erin and by Ethan over the year. Been a help. Been of use. At home and at work. That counted for a lot. So he was trying for everyone's sake.

Fuck, he was polite to Olive and that was a whole lot messier situation than what Erin and Halstead were throwing at him. Or maybe saying it was just messy in a different way would be far more accurate. Because this was still fucking messy.

But he'd tried with Olive. Because the girl deserved it given she was carrying his grandchild and she was being truthful and upfront about the circumstances and the expectations. Hank could appreciate that – even if he didn't like the mess. He'd tried for her. Tried for that grandbaby of his. And tried for Justin's sake too – because whether his son lived up to his obligations or not, Hank had already decided he would – for that child.

If he was going to do that for the three of them – he could do it for Erin too. So that meant doing it for Halstead. And, Jay had certainly been fucking trying over the year too. So it was what it was. They'd all just make it work the best they could.

Hank gestured at an old, banged up kettle he had over the fire.

"Coffee," he said.

Halstead mumbled something that might've been acknowledgement and glanced around to find his camping mug from dinner, glancing a bit more to retrieve a tea towel off the picnic table too from the night-before's clean-up, and then grabbed the kettle.

He made a bit of a face at the grounds running out in the brown liquid.

"Cowboy coffee," Voight clarified. "Grounds will settle as it cools."

Halstead just grunted again and as his mug filled, he returned the kettle to the little grill over the fire pit and sat down in one of the chairs that had been left out all night, holding the mug close to his face like he needed it to warm up and to wake up.

"Warm enough in there?" Voight nodded at Halstead's little tent.

Halstead gave a shrug. "Wasn't bad."

Voight allowed a little pucker of acknowledgement at that and a bit of a nod, turning back to his work at getting some breakfast ready so he'd be able to feed Magoo and get him to choke back his pills. Morning meds were such an argument. Things left him nauseated – but it was always worse if the kid decided he was going to put up a fight about eating. Then the damn things were real hard on his stomach. All this fucking stuff was hard enough on his body was it was. Wouldn't be surprised if the kid got up asking for a pain med too in the cold and damp of the late-spring morning and after sleeping in a tent – no matter what lengths he'd gone to to try to make sure his boy was warm and comfortable. He'd let a goddamn dog sleep between them on the fucking bed. That wouldn't happen at home.

Bear knew it too. Might've been between them but he'd cuddled right up to Magoo. Voight could still smell the mutt's fucking dog breath, though. He'd have to task E with buying the dental bones that month to try to improve the stench.

Bear hadn't wanted to get out of the tent when Voight had gotten up. Had to damn near yank him by the collar to get him to come out and take his morning shit. Mutt seemed happy enough nosing around the site now. A whole lot to smell. Should likely have his leash wrapped around a tree but hadn't bothered. Just was letting him drag it behind him. As much as a doofus Bear was, he was pretty good about listening and sticking close by. Was close enough now too that Halstead was up. Had trotted right back and plopped his big ol'skull in his lap. Jay seemed unfazed by it. Ruffling at the mutt's ears.

The dog liked Halstead. Erin had joked that it was because Halstead got to do his night-feedings through the first week of the mutt's adoption. They'd bonded. Halstead had given her quite the accusing look at that divulgence. Likely saw it as some sort of attack on his masculinity. Getting up at all hours to bottle feed a damn puppy? Might as well get used to it, though. On multiple accounts. Voight was pretty sure that Halstead would be the kind of man who wouldn't just be leaving it up to his wife to get up in the middle of the night with a wailing, hungry newborn. And, if he was going to marry Erin, he better get used to the sass.

That sure didn't tone down with marriage. Hadn't with Camille. She'd just got sassier with age and years of matrimony. Had a whole lot more ammunition and knew exactly what buttons to push too. To earn a smile or to earn outright annoyance. And the outright annoyance was sometimes exactly what she fucking wanted.

Sometimes Voight wondered how much Erin had picked up on that and how much she was just her. Some of it, it was definitely just her. She'd been a sassy, smart ass, bad ass of a little girl when he'd come across her. He knew she'd do OK in their family. Hell, there were still times that he felt like the universe had just spawned her for him and Camille as some joke. That their genes and attitudes and whatever had come together in some sorta karma that ultimately ended up landing her in their home. Then other times he thought she'd just spent too much time around them all and they rubbed off on her too fucking much. Attitude and behavior – some of it's nature, a whole lot of it's nurture. And it's fucking learned at home. And he had a feeling that was still biting them in the ass 15 years later in their 30 year old daughter – and was likely going to still be biting him in his ass for the rest of his life. The fucking kid.

"You need help?" Halstead asked.

And Voight pulled himself from the chopping, giving the kid a head shake. "Nah, just getting it on the go for Magoo," he said, dumping some of the veg into the skillet. Dice up some of the sausage too to toss in.

Still trying to decide on if he was going to do up some bannock. Kid would like that but that would likely be all that he'd eat – with excess amount of maple syrup – and he'd like to get something that resembled food a bit more than that into him. Maybe he'd let him roast some hotdogs or bannock wrapped dogs for lunch instead, if Eth hadn't decided he was ready to call it quits by then.

"You got any place you need to be today?" Hank asked Halstead a little suddenly with the realization that it might not just be E who was ready o bail.

He couldn't really tell if the guy was having a decent time. Probably not. Wasn't exactly like this was high excitement. Pretty sure guys without a wife or kids at home could likely come up with better things to do with their weekend than this. He'd likely been forced to come by Erin or was just paying him some sort of platitude. Didn't want to examine that too much, though. Either answer would likely piss him off some.

"No," Jay muttered, "but Erin wanted me to try to get you guys to be leaving here by about noon."

Hank scrunched his brow at him at that assertion. Didn't much like Erin planning his schedule by remote. Though, he supposed that he did want to get home at a decent hour so he could talk to his grandbaby on the Skype. Should likely wish his son a happy first Father's Day too, if that was something you did. Seemed like it should be. Olive had gotten him a card in the mail from Henry. A Happy Father's Day Grandpa! Card. Made him smile when he saw it and opened it up on Friday. Simple but nice. No card from his son, though. But Father's Day wasn't really the kind of thing that boys thought of, Hank didn't think. Didn't think his oldest son had wished him a Happy Father's Day since Camille had been gone.

That was fine, though. Was a Hallmark holiday anyway. Just like all the rest of them. Didn't mean much. Didn't need any of his kids making a big deal out of it. He knew it'd always been Camille who'd driven it when the kids were littler anyways. Not that she made a super big deal out of it. Just did this. Camping if he had the weekend off or wasn't U.C. Kids usually had a couple cards for him and some tacky crafts when they were real little. Still had some of the various pencil holders and paper weights cluttering up his desktop at home. Maybe there'd be some steaks to throw on the grill. Just time with the family. That was enough. That's the way he liked it. Simple.

"Hope she's not up to anything," Hank said flatly.

Halstead examined him. The guy was upfront. "She mentioned dinner reservations," he provided. "Didn't say where."

"Hmm …," Hank grunted and did another scan of the young detective. "You sure you don't got no brunch or dinner – barbecue - you're supposed to be at?"

Halstead just shook his head at that and went back to staring into his coffee.

Voight didn't know what all was going on between Halstead and his father. Didn't ask too much. His business. He knew how fathers and sons worked. Even the smallest shit could end up in you taking a break from talking to each other. Big shit – well, that could end up in years of not speaking and permanent scars. He knew that. But also knew it made it hard to rebuild the relationship the longer it went without you working on it. Made him feel bad for the kid at least. Didn't know if he felt bad for the guy's father or not since he didn't know the whole story. Knew enough of the story to know that Halstead's father wouldn't be getting an invite to wedding, though. Enough of the story to know that the guy had lost his mom, and he'd seen first hand what that did to a young man. And what it did to a dad and son's relationship too. Wouldn't wish it on anyone. Six years later and he was still working to fix it with all his kids. Likely always would be.

"Take it it wasn't your pops who took you fishing as a kid?" Voight tried.

Halstead cast him a glance and a shrug. "My grandfather," he allowed. "Took us some around Chicago but he'd usually take me and my brother up to his cabin for a couple weeks in the summer. Get us out of my mom's hair."

Voight allowed a grunt. "Yea, Magoo's really looking forward to you and Erin taking him up. Looks like a nice spot. Erin was showin' off the pictures from the Memorial Day trip."

Halstead allowed him a thin almost-sorta smile and took a sip from his mug. "She said your wife would've liked it," he allowed quietly – almost unsurely.

Voight nodded. "Oh, yeah, Camille would've loved it by the looks of it," he allowed. "Would've been having you two bump up the wedding date just so she could be booking in-law weekends or something up there."

Halstead allowed a quiet grin. "Guess at least someone would've been using it then," he said and gestured. "Will hardly ever goes up. And I don't think Erin's that into it."

Voight grunted. "Just get her some military-grade Deet," he rasped. "She'll quit her whining." Halstead allowed a real quiet amused sound so Voight looked at him a bit more seriously. "She was real taken with the eagles," he said sincerely. "She'll go with you again. Might not be big on the outdoors, but trips like that, it's about the company you keep."

A thin smile tugged a little at the corner's of his lips and the guy took a sip of his coffee in an attempt to hide it.

"Yea," he finally allowed, letting the mug come slightly down from his face. "Do a lot more time with my time off since … Erin."

"Mmm …," Voight grunted. He knew a lot of that was tagging along to Eth's Robotics crap and now his baseball stuff and just crashing at his house. But he knew Erin and Halstead still got out to their watering holes too. Had taken a few weekends away. It was good. They were both keeping each other busy. And distracted. Though mostly in a positive way. Wasn't seeping over onto the job too bad yet.

"Erin and I have been talking a bit about Eth's suggestion about doing paintball at Lake-," Halstead started but then stopped abruptly as the zipper on the tent opposite him came open.

Hank turned to watch Eth awkwardly stumble out, his backpack in tow and causing him to trip up even more than he generally stumbled over his own feet when he didn't have his brace or crutches on the go.

"Careful," Hank barked at him.

Eth cast him a bit of a look. "You guys are being so loud," he mumbled still sleepily, rubbing at his eyes.

Hank just shrugged. "Should be getting up soon anyway," he said, "if you want to cast some lines while the fish are still biting."

The kid lit up at that a little and cast his eyes in the general direction of the derby check-in on the river.

It was a bit of a hike from their camping spot. But they'd had the dog and Hank had wanted to put back a few in during the evening. Could've not bothered declaring either reality but it was a family event. More likely there'd be people getting bent out of shape about the little things. Didn't need some preppy schmuck who'd been unwillingly roped in attending the camping getaway having his weekend farther ruined by a nagging wife who couldn't handle a leashed dog or a couple grown men having some pops with dinner after a day out on the water.

"You're eating some breakfast and taking your meds before heading down," Voight put to him bluntly.

Magoo gave him a little huff but hauled his bag with him over to the picnic table on their site and sat his ass next to him, giving him a small smile.

"Happy Father's Day, Dad," he said with the kind of sincerity that made Voight believe that when E said shit like that he actually meant it.

"Thanks, Kiddo," he allowed and gave his hair a little bit of a scruff. He had bedhead about as bad as Halstead that morning. Worse. Bedhead just showed off all the bald spots that the medical trial had left on his head. The hair just wasn't growing back right. Voight was pretty much not expecting it to at that point. Would just have to get the kid's hair buzzed down again to try to hide it better. But the boy was rummaging through his bag now – showing off a real bald spot just south of his crown on the back of his head. "Hope you didn't go doing something silly."

Eth cast him an annoyed glance and pulled a small gift out of the bag and handed it out to him. Voight cocked an eyebrow at him, shoving his tongue in his cheek but accepted it.

See, this was the thing. Camille was gone but Erin had still done a decent job about keeping on top of this kind of stuff. She didn't go crazy either. But he'd still gotten cards from both her and Eth on Father's Day. Erin had usually taken him out for coffee or breakfast. Or at least swung by the house to be a pain in his ass for a couple hours. But he didn't think he'd gotten a present for a while. Not since the kids were little. Camille always had them giving him fucking socks. He'd turned into a bit of a joke.

"Is it socks?" he asked Magoo, even though from the size and weight of it, he could tell it was a book.

Eth sighed at him even more – giving him that teenager look that Voight had blinked and he'd perfected sometime between Christmas and his birthday. "It's not socks, Dad."

Voight nudged him. "You didn't get me socks? Where the hell am I going to get socks, if this isn't socks?"

"The store," Ethan mouthed at him. "And it was Mom who got you socks."

"Hmm," Voight allowed, picking at the tape on the packaging. "Pretty sure all your kids' names were on the card."

E just sighed at him again and watched him get the paper off, tossing it into the fire to get rid of it right away. He smiled a bit as he looked down at the thick paperback edition of complete collection of Sherlock Holmes stories.

Eth looked up at him with big eyes, a little nervously. "You said you and grandpa read it together when you were a kid."

Voight gave a little nod and reached to give his son's shoulder a squeeze. "We did," he agreed and reached to page through the book a bit. The text was fucking small. If he didn't already need reading glasses, he was sure as fucking going to by the time he was done working through it with Magoo. But a book this thick at the rate Eth read, it'd take a while to get through anyways. "This will be real good, Magoo. Thank you."

E gave him a little smile and dug back into his bag. "I got you something else," he said, "but it's just something we made in shop class."

Hank gave him a questioning look at the other parcel handed out to him. Kid was giving him more than he wanted or expected. He hoped this wasn't a sign that Erin had gone and overdone shit too. Dinner reservations were outside of their usual paradigm too. But it might just be that she was trying to save him from cooking after being out in the woods all weekend. Dinner didn't usually mean anything too fancy with their family. And a reservation likely meant it was at a place they knew just to guarantee their family connections ensured they didn't have to stand around waiting with the rest of the riffraff.

He peeled away the paper on the flat, round disc that Magoo had put in his hands. His face changed as he saw the wooden slice – rings of the tree and the bark still in place. But sanded so smooth and polished with mineral oil and butcher block save.

"Oh, wow," he said and gave Eth a proud look. "That's some beautiful work, Magoo."

He smiled shyly. "It took a whole lot of sanding," he said and reached out to run his fingers over it. Voight touched the smooth, varnished surface too. "But I'm supposed to tell you that it's a soft wood so it's not a super great cutting board. It's more of like a serving platter but you can using like kitchen knives on it and I can buff out any marks. But Mr. Ecker says that the dents will give it some character."

Voight nodded. "Our family doesn't get too bent out of shape about a couple dents," he said and wrapped his arm around his son, squeezing his shoulder and very briefly touching his mouth to his temple. "Really appreciate this, Magoo."

There was some real pride oozing off his kid at that. Loved to see some of the projects his kid got at in the various shops. The various skills he was learning. Giving some real skills and some real trades. Fighting for him to get them and the kid was excelling. E had a right to be proud. Voight was proud of him too.

He gave him a little nudge, though and a sterner look. "Good empty your bladder, OK," he ordered firmly. "Give those kidneys a break." E groaned at him a little but pulled himself up off the bench and started to trudge over to the tree-line. "Into the bushes," Voight added further instruction. "Got lookyloos on either side."

Voight went back to looking at the simple cutting board, running his hand along it a bit more but then held it out at Halstead. The younger man took it and examined it.

"That's some real nice work," he reaffirmed.

Halstead nodded in his examination of it. "Erin would likely like that too. He might get an order for another."

Voight allowed a grunt. "Wedding gift," he said and cast the guy a look. Still waiting on the two of them to get a date. He was getting pretty damn impatient. He'd expected to have one by now. About a week away from him being patient for six months. A month since he'd let them in on there being some money available to help all this along. Help them get established. But still hadn't gotten any confirmation from them on their plans.

Jay gave him a look and handed the woodworking back without comment. Voight took it and put it on the table, glancing down to the road way as he heard a car kicking up some gravel. Pretty early for someone to be pulling up stakes already – waking up the whole campground. Likely some dunce realizing he didn't know how to do a campfire breakfast and had forgotten any milk to pour into the kids' cereal to shut them up. Headed off into town to try to find something out this way at this time of day on a Sunday. Good fucking luck.

But his eyes stared a bit more as the car came to a stop at their site and he nodded at Jay, who turned to look at Erin getting out of her car, and trudging over to where they were seated with her hands full.

"You lost?" Hank put to her.

She cocked that eyebrow at him and deposited a box of Glazed and Confused in front of him. "Two ol'fashioned," she said with more than a little bit of a tease, "a maple bar and an apple fritter." He smacked at her. "I thought maybe you'd share one or two," she said.

"Maybe," he allowed.

She gave her a small roll but leaned forward and touched her mouth about as briefly and as lightly to his temple as he had Magoo. "Happy Father's Day, Hank," she provided.

"Mmm," he grunted but gave her a smile.

Eth had finished up with his morning leak and spotted her as he emerged from the bushes, nearly stumbling over himself. "ERIN!" he called with some shocked surprise.

"Shh," Voight hissed at him, none too quietly himself. Their camp neighbors weren't going to be big fans of them. Not that he really gave two shits. Still, though. He'd seen the one family had two little ones with them. Let them sleep as late as they could get those kids to stay down, he said.

Erin tapped on the box. "There's a Gypsy Bar in there too for him," she told Hank quietly. She knew the routine. Even though it was something Magoo could have – he'd still like some real food in him before he wolfed down the honey and apple butter treat.

"What are you doing here?" Eth asked as he got back closer to them.

"Apparently I don't know what to do with myself if I don't have the three of you being a pain in my pass," she said, casting a look Jay's way, but was rocked as Ethan near charged into her side, wrapping her in a hug like he hadn't seen her for days. She accepted it but then wrinkled her nose. "You guys look and smell awful," she said, pushing her brother away from her.

"We're camping," Ethan provided and excited asked, "Are you going to come fishing after breakfast?"

Erin shrugged. "Maybe," she said and moved over to Halstead, showing no hesitation about leaning into him for a kiss. Hank saw a momentary hesitation out of Halstead – like Voight might jump off the picnic bench and give him a smack for doing that in front of him. But there were other things he'd smack him for. In this case it didn't have to be him, because their lips had barely touched when Erin backed off. "And you taste awful," she put bluntly. "Have you brushed your teeth?"

"We're camping," Halstead gave in monotone affirmation of Magoo's statement.

Erin just made a face and looked around. "Where's the bathroom?" she asked. Voight pointed over at the bushes and Erin really did roll her eyes. "Where's the bathroom where I don't have to squat my bare ass over poison ivy?"

Jay allowed a smile and pulled himself out of the camping chair. "I'll show you," he said.

Erin gave Hank and Ethan a thin smile, and looped her arm around Halstead's as he started to lead her back out to the road for the short walk over to the porta-potties. Her hand had found his before they were even passed her car and they weren't out of sight before their pace had slowed and Halstead had leaned down to snag her lips into a more real kiss that time. Halfway out of sight, she didn't put up as much of a show about accepting it. In fact, she came to a stop in her tracks for a moment to return it before giving the guy a wide smile and saying something that Voight couldn't make out but was clearly full of sass because it earned a grin and a laugh out of Halstead.

Ethan squinted at them too. "They're kinda gross," he stated flatly.

Hank let out an amused noise and turned back to getting the breakfast sausage chopped up for the skillet. Bear had been eyeing the sausage with a bit too much interest, smacking his lips too.

"They're about right," Voight provided his son, giving him a nod to quiet him down.

E shook his head in confusion. "What's that mean?"

"Mmm …," Hank grunted. "You'll see."

Some things you just never quite got until you'd been there, done that. And Voight had been there, done that.

He supposed he wasn't too upset that his girl was there now. Even if it was with Halstead. That likely wasn't so bad after all.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: So I tried to fold Erin into the chapter a bit so I don't think I'm likely going to do the dinner out unless there's a huge, huge push for it. Have a vague idea about a Erin/Jay moment prior to dinner out but not sure it's necessary. Would likely be short.**

 **Might attempt another chapter from around the finale next.**

 **As usual, reviews and feedback are much appreciated.**


	108. Sunstroke

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 106 - OLD FASHIONED.**

Erin cocked her eyebrow as she carefully pushed the door open to her old bedroom in Hank's house. Jay had disappeared into the house nearly 40 minutes ago – presumably for a bathroom break – and hadn't yet reappeared on the back porch. Now she could see why. He was laying stretched out on his side on her bed, just a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair still looking damp from the shower. He'd had his eyes closed but opened them to slits as she opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind her.

"You OK?" she asked, moving over to the bed.

He made a little sound but nodded, letting his head fall back to where it'd been resting on his outstretched arm, his eyes drifting shut briefly again.

"I think I got too much sun," he muttered with an edge of annoyance to his voice.

That would annoy him, though. Jay didn't like things to slow him down. He didn't like to admit pain or discomfort or defeat. He was used to work through those sorts of things. And worse. Beyond that, he was an Afghan vet. He should know a thing or two about being out in the sun and the heat and dealing with hydration to avoid any sunstroke or heatstroke. But she could see how the day might've gotten away from him without him even realizing.

It'd been a hot one. They were down by the river – or in it – where it was generally cooler with a bit of a breeze. Jay hadn't had a hat on. He wasn't much for hats, and Erin was OK with that. They didn't look that good on him. Hid too much of his face, which was one of his better form features. But he likely should've had one on that day with his short-cropped hair and Irish fair skin. He also likely should've been taking more breaks and coming up from the shore and out of the water to actually drink some water than he did. But he hadn't. He'd seemed pretty concentrated in his efforts to try to hook something that morning while they were down fishing. Maybe he was trying to impress her. Or maybe he was just frustrated from his previous day's attempts – and his usual hate of admitting defeat like it indicated some sort of inadequacy that he hadn't contributed to the night's fish fry. But considering the number of empties that they'd loaded into the back of Hank's Escalade for the drive home, Jay had likely been at a hydration deceit before the day even began. Despite what he might like to think about beer being the best hydration option after sex, it definitely wasn't the best one after a day in the sun followed by another day in the sun.

Erin hadn't nagged at him about it, though. Maybe she should've. Or at least pointed out to him that he'd been standing in the water casting his line for hours on end when the sun was at about it's highest in the sky. But being that kind of fiancée wasn't really her thing. He was a grown man. He was used to living and working outdoors. So she'd just done her own thing. Occasionally watched the guys doing their thing, intermingled with doing some sun tanning, visiting with Ethan when he did come up the embankment for some shade, water and food, and playing stupid games on her phone and reading some book she'd been meaning to get to for months but hadn't yet. Basically, she'd just been casually hanging out with her family. Being around on Father's Day because it was a family time day, so it was a day that Hank actually liked to have his family around. Respected that – even if camping and fishing wasn't really her thing.

Driving out and spending the morning with them was likely more her thing than sitting at home alone anyways. The three of them had clearly become far too much of her days-off routine because she'd really been fucking bored. At first she thought it was kind of nice. She slept in. Only the sleeping in didn't involve a bed-in and morning sex. So there was that.

Then when she did drag herself out of bed, she'd been stuck making breakfast for herself when anymore Jay usually did that – and it usually involved some sort of smoked fish and bagels and cream cheese and eggs. And if it didn't – it involved them sitting somewhere and eating brunch or drinking coffee and just talking or staring out the window or at their phones for probably more time than they should. But instead of having that kind of quality drag or ass morning with a decent breakfast, she'd resorted to cereal. Because that's all she had. Only it was Ethan's disgusting rice puffs cereal that was in the cupboard – not even Rice Krispies. Just puffed rice. Sugar Crisp without the sugar that almost made it palatable. She'd poured on more white sugar than she wanted to admit on the stuff to try to make it palatable and it still wasn't. It was instant mush with a hint of Styrofoam. She felt bad that it was something that they even presented to her baby brother as a breakfast option after trying to ingest it. She'd actually ended up dumping a bunch of it down the sink – because it was that gross. A waste of food – and Jay's almond milk, which had been the only milk option in the fridge. But almond milk – especially the unsweetened kind that Jay bought – was also it's own level of disgusting. So she didn't feel that bad about flushing it down the sink. She actually briefly contemplating dumping the rest of the carton down the sink and tossing the rest of the cereal box in the garbage after that lovely breakfast. But that would've been wasteful. Especially since they seemed to count as edible food products in the guys' minds.

There was clearly more wrong with the males she associated with than she thought.

With "breakfast" out of the way, she'd then been so bored that she'd actually gone for a jog, which was Jay's workout of choice – not hers. She'd rather go to the gym but the boxing gym on Saturdays was gross and a spin class on a Saturday was filled with hipster moms that she didn't want to associate with. So she'd jogged. On a near empty stomach and lacking in protein – or one of the disgusting protein shakes that Jay would blend in the morning and pour in a glass and she'd end up drinking without thinking and then looking at him in disgust every fucking morning about him having conned her into sipping it once again by pouring it in a cup and handing it to her. She'd give him that he had a body that she unquestionably liked – a lot – form and function. But what he ate to maintain that? Beyond gross.

She'd been even more lost about what to do with her afternoon. So lost that she'd briefly considered going into work to catch up on paperwork and work on some open files. She'd even called Atwater to see if anything had jumped overnight since he was on-call and still a bit of an ass-kissing go-getter who'd likely jump at even the lamest lead while he was on-call in the hope of pumping up his status in the unit a bit. But he had nothing. So she couldn't use that excuse of going in to help him out.

That likely would've been annoying anyways. He'd just pump her for information about dealing with Voight and getting his in – like he always did. He'd also likely want to know if he made a good impression at Eth's party and if that counted as any sort of sign of respect or paid dues that he'd gotten invited to that – completely disregarding that it was actually his younger siblings that had gotten invited. He'd just been their chaperone. He likely would've ended up making her pay for lunch too. He was such a fucking cheapskate. Though, paying for lunch actually might've been a decent idea. It had to have been better than her breakfast that way.

It'd been at about that point that she realized she didn't really have any friends – or even acquaintances outside of work anymore. She'd briefly felt like that couldn't be healthy. It was likely more than a little lonely, if she spent too much time reflecting on it. But she decided not to. She knew she'd been in a place in her life a year ago where she needed to break the ties with the friends and acquaintances in her life. The bad influences. She knew she'd hurt some people – the ones who weren't such bad influences. The ones who did actually care about her on some level as a person and not just as a crash pad who also had easy access. She'd unfortunately needed to cut them out too. It was just where she was at then. It was just part of the deal. And she reminded herself that out of it she got her baby brother back, she got her job back, she'd improved her relationship (recovered, salvaged … whatever you wanted to call it) with Hank, and she'd gotten Jay. She liked to think that the losses and the sacrifices were worth what she'd gained. That they'd given her the distraction and the foundation and the network and the support that she needed to get out of that hole and to keep from falling back into it. So she wasn't going to dwell on the fact she didn't have some girl friend to call up and hangout with on a Saturday.

Instead she just went shopping. She'd gotten shorts even though she was usually pretty committed to her jeans. But these were jean shorts. So that counted. Right? She actually probably would've saved a lot of money if she'd just hacked apart a pair of her old jeans at home. But that seemed a little too street kid of her. And, she'd given the price tag the justification that Jay would like them. Short shorts? What's not to like? From a guy's point of view – or at least her boyfriend's point of view. She'd likely get some commentary from Hank about them not being appropriate attire while sitting in the stands at Eth's baseball practice. But fuck that. She'd held back on giving her body any sort of too in-depth self-examination or critique while she looked in the mirror in the change room. Or at least her thighs. Her ass was fine. Jay liked all of it. He made that pretty clear. So whatever. She was healthy. So fuck what other people – including Hank – thought of the shorts.

She liked them. Jay would be good with them. Actually, he already had been. His hand had been sitting on her inner thigh – driving her fucking crazy – most of the drive back into the city. Though, right now, she got the impression he could care less what she was wearing. She probably wouldn't even get his "OK, we're out of here" routine if she presented him with the option of removing her new attire, he looked so baked.

She'd bought food on her shopping outing too. Groceries. To make a meal for Hank for Father's Day. Because she knew he wouldn't want to go out. His idea of going out on a non-special event was to go to Carmine's. She'd eaten enough Carmine's to last her a lifetime – no matter how good of job his kitchen staff did, who wanted to eat Italian on a fucking hot June day?

It didn't matter anyways. And she didn't particularly want to take Hank out anywhere, because he'd end up arguing with her and ultimately paying for it, which completely defeated the purpose of taking him out for a Father's Day meal to begin with. So instead she got some of his favorites – including his strawberry rhubarb pie, which pretty much no one else liked but him. And he wouldn't care because he'd then get to eat through the whole thing himself.

When she'd taken the groceries to drop off at the house, she'd decided to further fill her afternoon by fucking cleaning for Hank. That was how fucking bored she was. She cleaned Hank's house. As a teenager she was willing to take a hit on her allowance rather than even attempt to clean to Hank's standards. He liked everything just so. He liked things the way he liked things was what it came down to. And he could get so fucking bent out of shape if you touched any of his stuff – moved it in the slightest. And God fucking forbid if you left anything of Camille's ajar or not in the exact same spot she'd last left it. The look on his face said it all. But you try dusting in that fucking house without touching or nudging anything.

Erin had her own policy when it came to dusting. She didn't move anything. She dusted around it. It meant that flat surfaces were only partially dust free. And all the little knickknacks and photos on display were left up to Hank to deal with. But he did get his floors vacuumed and the kitchen mopped and whipped down. She'd even dealt with the residual mess that Eth had left in the bathroom despite his mandated cleaning duties to try to keep his overall grossness to a minimum. She'd even committed a grave sin of entering both Eth and Hank's bedrooms without permission to snag their laundry hampers and dragged them downstairs to put the loads through. Sitting and staring at the Cubs play at the Braves without Ethan even forcing her to endure the afternoon match while waiting for the laundry to wash and the dry and then folding the clothes and put the baskets back up on their beds. Hank could deal with the air dry and items that needed ironing himself.

It'd been a bit of a risk. She knew how Hank could get about people being in his house and touching his things – even if it was just her. Ethan had definitely inherited that. He got so bent out of shape about his little OCD displays in his bedroom being just so. And once she'd made the mistake of trying to put his clean laundry – namely socks and underwear – away for him. He'd just about gone nuclear on her.

But she'd decided the risk was worth it. She'd never really gotten Hank anything for Father's Day beyond a card. And she wouldn't know what to get him for Father's Day anyways. It might be awkward. They had this unspoken acknowledgement that he was her parent. That he was the guy who raised her. There wasn't much point in arguing about or trying to hide the fact that he'd become her father figure. He was 'dad', as Jay liked to say, usually more patronizingly than she'd like. But it didn't mean that her and Hank mutually stated it that way. Sometimes it just seemed easier – better – to leave it as the unspoken truth. Like maybe it would break their relationship if either them actually acknowledged he was "dad" to her. The only father she'd ever really known.

So not getting him anything was just easier. There wouldn't be anything he really wanted anyways. Not from her. Not a material gift. Something like this – getting into a clean house and the laundry being done would be something he'd appreciate. It was something that had value to him. It'd free him up for more family time with his kids, which was what he always really wanted when he was home. But his home time was usually taken up with daily home life – or being dad and that caregiver and provider. So she'd given him the option to have some free time – chore free – on Sunday afternoon. To do with it as he wanted.

And, besides, it'd been a good excuse to forge through his fridge and eat some real food. There'd been decent leftovers that he'd again notice were gone and give her a dirty look. But it was another aspect of the house call she'd been willing to risk.

But even after all that she'd still had the evening left to fill after that. That had really driven home that she wasn't used to having the nights to herself. Not since she'd started climbing out of that hole. Not since Ethan had been home. Not since her and Jay were official. She'd had – needed – something to fill her time. To distract her. And she hadn't that night and she'd been restless with it.

So she'd gone over to Molly's. It was pretty much her safe place, if she was going to hit up a bar alone. There were still other people there to at least be accountable to, if not watch her back. Kim had been there, because apparently that was about as exciting as her Saturday nights were anymore too. They'd sat with Reese, the young, newly minted resident at Med and her sorta weird in an awkwardly creepy way, pathology boyfriend. But it actually all felt a little young. Erin had kind of felt like she was sitting amidst some sort of coming-of-age story airing in the after-school special slot. So she'd shifted over to some of the guys from the Firehouse instead. But firehouse guys were a different bred than cops. They were nice guys. They were doing good work for their city. But some of the guys at 51? Especially on Squad? They didn't exactly shine as the sharpest pencils in the box. Pencils might be too generous. Crayons was likely more accurate.

So she'd ultimately ended up sitting at the bar. The plan had been to chat at Gaby, but she was taking fewer shifts with Louie now – and being attached to Casey's political elbow. So it'd ended up being Otis talking at her rather than chatting with her. She sat and mostly nodded for a while while he rambled about his health and his (sadly lacking) love life and some stuff about science fiction shows and boardgames that she really didn't want to admit she knew anything about – but unfortunately after spending so much time with Eth, she actually did. So some of the chitchat about what the best boardgame for a 13-year-old geeky kid might be ended up being one of the most engaging conversations she had that night. Apparently King of Tokyo or Dead of Winter were where it was at.

She knew that Otis wasn't much for kids – despite being a big kid himself. But it made her think that Eth would love the guy. Or more terrifyingly, he might grow up to be that guy, which she then weighed against what would be worse: Ethan turning out like Brian or Ethan turning out like Mouse? She supposed they were both decent, good, hardworking guys doing the best they could for their city given the circumstances they'd been handed in life. So, it wasn't likely too awful if she little brother ended up like either of them. Even if they weren't exactly startlingly amazing catches from the whole girlfriend standpoint. But maybe they should be. Or they should be when she was thinking about her baby brother having a future life and career and relationship. Not in terms of her being remotely interested in either of them – ever.

But as (un)engaging her conversation with Otis was, she'd called it a really early night. Not early enough because she'd seen Will dragging his sorry ass into the bar and giving her some shit about Jay spending Father's Day with Hank and Eth rather than him and their dad. But that was a conversation for him to have with Jay – not her. And, the viewpoint only held so much when it looked like Will's plans for the evening were to try continue to try to forget Natalie and Owen by becoming his father – absent and looking for some blond bimbo at the end of the bar. Will had just as many insecurities and just as much baggage from their childhood and family life as Jay. He just manifested them in a completely different way. She wouldn't say the way either brother dealt with it was healthy. But she would say at least she had the option of opting out of watching how Will dealt with his – because his methods usually pissed her off, especially when she knew he wasn't over Natalie. He should be investing his time and efforts there. Not pulling up a stool at the bar and making eyes down it.

She'd ended up at home. Alone. Watching some PBS documentary about the Secret Lives of Cats. It was ridiculous. Jay likely would've thought it was fascinating. To him any documentary was fascinating. It pretty much just made her feel like a crazy cat lady sans a cat, though. And she didn't have anyone to share her pint of Ben and Jerry's with or to slap when they dug out all the brownie bits, cherries or cookie dough either.

She was just some sad single girl sitting on the couch eating ice cream – alone – and watching a documentary about cats. That was a new level of pathetic she was pretty sure she hadn't reached before. Only to be superseded when she was in bed barely after midnight – and still not getting laid on a Saturday night. Because really, why would she be after ending out her day like that?

She'd pretty much made her decision then and there that she was setting the alarm to be at Glazed and Infused the moment it opened at 6 a.m. and be rolling into the campground with Hank's favorite doughnuts – as old fashioned as he was - by 7:30 a.m. Bugs, dirt and fishing – with her guys – sounded way better than trying to figure out what to do with a Sunday off too.

And it had been decent enough. Way better than anything she likely would've ended up doing to fill Sunday morning. She'd gotten doughnuts out of it. And some sort of breakfast hash that Hank made – so even though it looked like some of the undigested dinners Ethan promptly vomited up all over the floor if they tried to get his pills into him before his food, it tasted good and indisputably better than rice puffs and almond milk, which had looked like baby spit-up. That was significantly less appealing somehow.

She'd gotten a bit of alone time with Jay to confirm he'd survived a day alone with Hank and Ethan and it wasn't nearly as horrible as he'd thought it would be. He didn't say he'd had a good time but he didn't say he'd had an awful time. And he didn't seem that out of place or uncomfortable for all the fuss he'd put up about not wanting to go and her having to ask him to try since Hank was trying.

She got to listen to Eth blabber about camping and fishing and the outdoors. Making him sound nearly as much like his mom as he looked like her. And she'd gotten to watch Hank sit there pretending that he didn't give a shit that he had two of his three kids with him on Father's Day doing something that he'd done with his wife and family while they were young. Even though she knew he would've liked it even better if he had all three of his kids there and even more if he was taking his little grandson on his first camping trip and fishing trip. Though, Erin didn't really want to think about having a barely one-year-old out in the "wilderness" (even though she knew a state park barely an hour outside the city with drive in campsites, concession stands, and canoe rentals couldn't really be called the wilderness). Though, she knew for a fact that Eth was still in diapers when they'd started taking him camping. And it'd likely been to this exact spot.

She'd gotten to pretend briefly like she cared about fishing and tolerated each of the guys playing teacher in their macho efforts to show her how to do it "properly" – because casting a line and standing there with a reel was something that men seemed to think was rocket science. She'd given each of them a bit of lip when her patience of being shown anything by men – even the ones she liked – wore off.

And, she'd gotten to sit in the sun in her new shorts. She'd gotten to read some of that book she'd bought months ago and had sitting on her nightstand waiting for some real free time. Because she never really had much of that anymore. And even when she did get a couple hours when she finally got home at night, she was usually so exhausted and brain dead she was far more ready to stare at the television than she was to actually read. Which she hated to admit – because she knew how Hank and Camille had felt about reading. The value they placed in it and books and education and self-improvement and intelligence and knowledge. Even if you weren't an academic or an intellectual - it wasn't an excuse to be dumb, ignorant or small-minded. Read books. Read newspapers. Read magazines. Watch the news. And if you're going to talk at the dinner table – it better be about something you read or saw in one of those items—not some crappy, low-brow TV show or some mean girl politics from iggy's. She supposed that now at least she had Jay in her life, so even if she wasn't reading as regularly as she should be, she was becoming ridiculously educated to PBS and NPR standards.

As she'd sat there, Bear kept coming up to visit her. He reeked of wet dog. River wet dog. But he seemed just as happy to see her as the guys who were trying to downplay that they cared she was there while giving her shit about crashing boys' weekend. But petting at that stinky mess (who only gave her so much time, before charging back to the river and splashing around pissing off Hank and Eth and getting yelled at about scaring away the fish, which just made the dumb mutt think they wanted to play with him more and he galloped against the current between the two of them), she'd thought dragging that dog home was one of her better decisions. That as much as Hank claimed it was Ethan dog – and hers since she brought it into the house – she could tell he liked it. She saw the way Hank interacted with the big-ass puppy. The way he talked to it and took care of it. And just like Bear had given Ethan a friend and something/someone to push hard for and to do more for to push through his pain and discomfort to take care of and be there for – the silly mutt brought out some of the better qualities in Hank too. That softer side of him that he likely didn't want betrayed by some dog – when having kids and a family betrayed the fact he wasn't so tough enough.

Some old man had walked by while she was sitting there in the shade watching her guys. Older than Hank. Likely in his late-60s. All decked out in complete fishing gear. The wadders and the boots and the hat. She figured he must feel like he was in a sauna with how the sun was beating down that day. He was alone, toting his rod and tackle box and clearly trying to find a quiet spot along the river. Hank had said it was busier than the day before. That more people must've driven out for the day with it being Father's Day – and the derby was hosting a barbecue too. An easy and cheap family day trip for families that liked that kind of thing. And with few of the tagged fish having yet been caught, there were still a lot of prizes up for grabs on the derby board too. Some of the weights to beat didn't look too hard. Ethan seemed convinced if they'd taken his catfish over to be weighed by the derby, he would've been up on the board. So now he was bound and determined he was going to hook another one before they left that day and this time get it weighed. There was a hundred dollar prize up for grabs for his age-range. He was already planning how he would spend that. The new RBI Baseball game, which Hank huffed at him about not sitting on his ass in front of videogames all summer.

"But it's not a videogame, it's baseball," E had protested in that teen voice that wasn't exactly a whine but wasn't exactly patronizing but clearly said that dad was starting to get stupid on him.

"You can watch baseball. You can play baseball. You aren't going to work out your thumbs and drop a C-note on some fucking videogame," Hank had oh so cheerily informed him.

Hank had instead informed him if he won any prize money, the money would be split up the same way as any other allowance money he got. E had took some issue with that – since it'd be his prize if he won and he should get to spend it the way he wanted. Hank just grunted at that. Clearly the end of the conversation from his perspective. Dad had said his bit. And, no matter what Eth thought or felt about it, it would ultimately end up going Dad's way. It was how it worked in the Voight house. The sooner you accepted that, the whole lot easier your teen years went. But Erin knew that accepting that – and consistently dealing with that – wasn't an easy proposition. Test the boundaries, test the boundaries, test the boundaries. Her and Justin had done it. Eth would too. At least this was just about some fantasy about money he didn't even have.

"Fine," Eth had muttered, "then I hope I win one of the rods or tackle – because then you can't take it away from me."

Hank had just shrugged indifference. "Seems like a better prize to me," he'd said. "Get some good use out that stuff this summer."

"I would out of RBI too," Eth had said under his breath but not too under his breath since Erin had heard and seen the entire interaction from the sidelines.

The old man must've too, because he gave her a small smile. "Yours?" he put simply.

She'd just returned the thin smile with a small shrug as an acknowledgement. So he'd smiled a little more and gestured with his rod. "Nice to get all the generations out," he'd said with this quiet longing to it that highlighted the fact he was there alone. That it wasn't that his wife was back at their camping spot or that his kids or grandchildren had just staked out a spot closer to the check-in and the playground and the picnic shelters and the indoor bathrooms. He was there alone.

It made Erin wonder briefly if he was a widower. Or if his children lived far enough way they couldn't get home to see their dad on Father's Day. If he didn't have any grandkids yet. Maybe him and his wife had never even had any children for there to even be the possibility of grandchildren. Or maybe it was just that there were fractured relationships and he was really that alone.

It made her frown a little. Because she knew in a way that could be Hank. That it very well could've been Hank when their family had imploded in Camille's death and Eth getting hurt and Justin's spin out and Hank's ill-advised dealing of that, and lawyers and jail time and boarding school and everything else. There'd been a period where it didn't look like that family she'd come to depend on, that family that saved her and got her through her teens and had given her that foundation to enter adulthood as a fairly functional human being, had slipped away. That it'd been lost. And she didn't think she'd get anything that remotely resembled it back.

Hank was alone. Justin was alone. Eth was alone. And she was alone. And all four of them had drifted and tried to cope and flailed and spun around a bit before finding their footing again. It'd been a rough five years. But they were starting to figure this out now. They weren't alone anymore. They looked more like a family again. Acted more like it. They felt like it.

And she liked that. Clearly this man did too. Even though she suspected he likely thought that there were more than two generations there. That it was father and son and grandson out in the water while she looked on. That maybe that was something he wanted and wished he had and longed for. So she didn't correct him. Because even though that wasn't what they were – they were still a family. They still had each other – which was clearly more than that guy had as he continued to poke his way along the river's edge.

Eth had gotten a whiff of the derby barbecue as the morning wore into lunch. He'd lamented about not being able to go over and chow into a burger. But Hank had taken that as his cue to herd them back over to the campsite and get the fire going again. Digging out the ridiculously priced all-beef, no fillers, no preservatives, no sugar, no nothing hotdogs out of the cooler and making up some no-nothing bannock for Eth to wrap around the dog and roast over the fire. And Eth had been happy. And he'd eaten. So had that and as usual, it was good. Erin actually thought that bannock wrapped hot dogs over the campfire were on her list of one of the better reasons to endure wilderness trips with the Voights. She was kind of glad she hadn't missed that. She would've thought that likely would've been the night before's dinner but apparently they'd had enough of a successful fishing trip that Eth had got one of his dad's fish fries – and campfire potatoes, which she thought the kid liked even more than his dad's fish fry seasoning and cooking. She was actually pretty sure the stupid potatoes in tinfoil over the campfire was one of the reasons that E was so fucking into camping. He just wanted his dad to make those – over and over and over again.

After that, she'd helped with tearing down the campsite and packing up the SUV. They'd thrown Jay's stuff in her trunk in the unspoken acknowledgement that he'd be riding back into the city with her. They'd made some quick work of it. Quick enough that they ended up just moving the vehicles up closer to the entrance of the park and the derby check-in and letting Eth fish in the mob for another about 45 minutes before officially calling it a day and rolling out of there by about 2 p.m.

It'd been a good morning. Worth getting up early for and making the drive out of the city.

But looking at Jay right now, she was starting to think maybe it wasn't entirely worth it. Because part of her Sunday plans – with her new swanky shorts and going to retrieve him and ensure his survival – had definitely included them getting out of there at a whole decent hour thing and getting in some alone time that night that preferably involved the bedroom – and not this one. Or if it didn't include the bedroom, it at least included less clothes than either of them had on at the moment – and Jay didn't have a whole lot on.

She set herself on the edge of the bed. "You definitely got some sun, babe," she said, reaching out to touch his sunburned face. Apparently he hadn't been keeping up the sunscreen regiment either based on the red that had set in on his skin. "You're hot," she informed him, moving the back of her hand from his forehead to his pink cheek.

But he couldn't be feeling that bad, because his eyes opened to slits again and he cocked his eyebrow at her. "I know," he informed her with that cocky glint in his eye.

She raised her eyebrow back at him and tried to not let the smile pull at the corners of her mouth. "Did the shower help?" she asked instead.

"I feel less like I slept in a pile of dirt and swam with the fishes," he mumbled and shifted again.

She smiled a bit at that and ran her hand down his bicep. The sun had gotten to his arms too. Shirtless, he was clearly sporting a farmer's tan. They'd have to work on that when he was feeling a bit better, because that definitely wasn't overly attractive. Though, kind of funny. It'd been funnier when he didn't look like he had sunstroke.

She glanced around the room. "Did you hydrate?" she asked, not spotting signs of a bottle or cup anywhere. He just groaned. "You want me to go get you some water?"

"I want a fucking Tylenol," he muttered. "My head is throbbing and apparently he can't even keep that in the medicine cabinet."

She gave him a frown and massaged up at his shoulder that wasn't sunburned. "This house and pills, babe," she allowed. Sad reality. As much as her and Ethan had both earned Hank's trust back in various ways and their own ways, it didn't mean that everything had settled back into normal – or its previously normal places. "It will just be up in the kitchen cupboard with Eth's meds. I'll grab a couple for you when I get the water."

She started to move but his hand found her wrist and held her in place with a gentle tug. "I'll get it when I come down," he said with his eyes still closed.

"It looks like you should be staying up here and resting for a bit, Jay," she said.

"Yeah, I'm sure Voight loves that," he mumbled.

She found his hand and laced her fingers with his. He gripped them tightly. His hand looked pink as well. He was definitely going to be regretting his choices by the next day – if he wasn't already. He'd likely start peeling soon. She should check to see if Hank at least had some Solarcaine or Aloe in the medicine cabin or the camping first aid kit. Otherwise, she'd likely be stopping at a CVS on the way back to the apartment and if he really was as burned and as sunstroked as he looked, there likely wasn't going to be any "hanky-panky" going on, as Hank put it. And him using that phrase always did more to amuse her than deter her.

"I'm more worried about what you'll put your partner through tomorrow, if you don't rest up and feel a bit better," she told him. "You have a tendency to take out things on people who don't deserve it," she gave his hand a little squeeze.

He opened his eyes a bit again and gave her a thin smile. "Trust me," he said cheekily. "She deserves it."

She cocked her eyebrow at him again. "That bad?" she asked.

He gave a little shrug. "Treats me like a total house husband. Complete pain in my ass. Never lets me drive."

She gave him a thin smile. "Sounds awful," she allowed. "You want me to give you a lift home?"

He shook his head and opened his eyes a bit again. "Aren't you supposed to be cooking?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Hank's taken over," she provided.

He gave her an amused look. "He's cooking his own Father's Day dinner?"

She shrugged again not even bothering to hide the smile at the irony of it. "He likes things they way he likes things. His way."

"You mean he doesn't like you're cooking," Jay put to her bluntly, giving her a mischievous smile.

But she still reached out and gave his sunburned arm a firm smack. He cringed and gave her a hurt look. It actually looked like it'd hurt a bit more than she'd meant it to. But he deserved it. He was always such a fucking tease.

"God," Jay groaned gripping at the place on his arm that she'd smacked. "Now I know how Voight felt getting smacked by the wife."

Erin rolled her eyes. "She wasn't his wife then and I'm sure he deserved it just as much as you just did," she said.

Jay just cocked his eyebrow at her again – giving her a disbelieving look. At least it wasn't as unimpressed as the look Hank had given her that afternoon when she'd been sharing that story at the patio table.

Hank had noticed she'd cleaned the house near as soon as they'd walked in the door. Apparently she'd moved the change dish a fraction of an inch and it'd given her away. But at least he noticed and he seemed quietly appreciative – in usual Hank form. There hadn't been a thank you but he'd given her a kind look and a grunt when she'd disclosed she'd been in the house the afternoon before – cleaned for him, did laundry for him, had some food in the fridge to make dinner for him. Eventually when they had some more privacy – when she was in the kitchen doing a bit of prep to get the veggie kabobs and asparagus ready to go on the grill with the beer can chicken that she'd planned to roast with one of Hank's grill gadgets that he also likely didn't want her touching – he'd come up behind her and done that thing of his. Where he scruffed at back of her head like she was one of the boys and gave her hair a gentle, teasing tug until she gave reacted and gave him a look of her own. But he just smiled at her and gave her shoulder a squeeze before retreating. That was the acknowledgement. The thanks. And it was really all she needed. Because really her cleaning and doing the meal prep was her own quiet thank you. He'd done a lot more for her over the years than any of that. And even though he'd shrug it off as it being what fathers and parents did – took care of their family, provided for them –she knew that wasn't true of all of them.

He'd spent nearly an hour after they got home chatting at Olive and Henry and Justin. He'd seemed happy and comfortable with it, as she walked by him a couple times while he sat on the couch – in his spot –with the iPad doing the FaceTime thing. She'd even made a brief appearance to make some faces at Henry and to briefly give Justin a Happy Father's Day, even though it felt weird saying that to her younger brother. He seemed just as awkward about receiving the greeting from her. But, she was glad that him and Hank didn't seem to have too much tension between them that day. That she could hear them actually having something that resembled a conversation. That he didn't just briefly talk to Olive and then ramble at Henry for 10 minutes like he did on most of his Sunday chats with that branch of the family tree. It'd been a comfortable enough call that even Ethan had let himself enter the room and gaze at Henry, teasing him with one of the dinosaur toys that the baby had clearly wanted to claim as his own the weekend before, and even exchanging some minor pleasantries and updates on school and baseball and it almost being summer holidays with his brother. So that was good. It was process.

Hank had eventually joined the three of them out on the back deck. It'd been when they'd sat down and stopped with the moving and the cleaning and the prepping and the unpacking and the putting away that she'd started to notice that Jay was looking like he was fading a little but he hadn't asked her to drop him at his place on the way back into the city and hadn't indicated he wasn't down with participating in the meal – nor had Hank made any comment to indicate he'd prefer Jay not be there. So they'd just settled in there – giving some Hank some privacy on the call. They'd been entertaining Ethan with Uno, which seemed to be a sideline rage with the kids on his ball team. Erin sort of thought they spent just as much time practicing and playing that as they did their ball game.

The little girl from his team who'd come out to his party the week before had brought him a deck of his own as a birthday gift. They'd played an endless number of hands since. Jay had groaned a bit when Eth had gone back into the house to retrieve the cards from his backpack, because apparently he'd had him and Hank play it for several hours on Saturday too. It seemed like Jay was pretty Uno'd out, but when Hank had appeared and sat down with them, he'd automatically said, "Deal me in." Hank and cards, though. There wasn't a game he didn't like and he seemed too good at all of them. But he'd been playing cards since he was about Eth's age and already kicking around the social club and watching his dad play. He'd become quite the card shark. And he hadn't been shy about teaching his kids how to win a hand or two. He was likely primed to start educating Eth, even if they were starting out with Uno.

Somewhere in the midst of the playing, there'd been chatting between hands. Hank had said something about some game his group used to play in the stairwells during their lunch breaks in high school. Eth had asked if his mom had played with him but Hank had made some comment about Camille being too studious to be hanging around in smelly, smoky stairwells on her lunch break. She'd be off in the library or the dark room or cutting apart some dead animal organ for extra credit in the biology lab. Eth had flippantly made some smart-ass comment about how she'd ever hung out with him.

Hank had just grunted. He'd given his usual vague commentary of same neighborhood, saw each other around a lot as kids, landed at the same high school, had some classes together, ended up sitting next to each other a lot.

"Vito, Voight," he muttered in his usual boring rendition of their courtship.

So Erin had looked at him and then looked at Eth. "And, he had a small crush on her," she added on his behalf to get given a dirty look. "But your dad is so great at talking to anyone – especially girls – that he demonstrated his interest in her by stealing her ruler and poking her with it in math class."

Ethan had given his dad a look at that. He clearly hadn't heard this rendition of the story before. Or if he had, it wasn't filed away properly in his broken brain. But Camille's much more amusing story of their early courtship had come out around the time Justin was thirteen or fourteen too and was demonstrating just as much cluelessness and anti-socialness about girls as his father apparently had. Unsurprisingly. Genetics and example.

"Your mom got a little sick of his apparent demonstration of affection," Erin told her baby brother. "So one day she grabbed that ruler back from him and smacked him with it – so loud that the whole class heard and turned to look."

Ethan had tried to hide the wide smile growing across his face at that and looked at his dad. Hank had just smacked more and given Erin a glare.

"You gonna talk or you gonna play?" he put to her flatly, not contending the factuality of the story. Because Erin was pretty sure that it was true and, honestly, she kind of would've liked to see it. But she knew from living with them that Camille had a knack for putting Hank in his place. And she also knew that as much as Hank hated that – he also needed someone like that in his life and it was likely more than a little of the reason they'd worked so well as a couple.

"He seemed real impressed with you telling that story," Jay told her, giving his arm a final rub before letting his hand drop away.

Erin shrugged. "It's a much better story than his version. Details," she said. "Color."

"Hmm," Jay acknowledged. "Just like undercover. It's what sells the story," he mocked with a small grin.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm sure the version of our story you tell our kids will be just as boring as his."

He gave her an unimpressed look. "We don't need some embellished version of events," he said. "We met as partners working in the elite Intelligence Unit of the CPD. That's interesting enough."

"Mmm," Erin allowed and let herself lay down on her side to look at him. He didn't look great but he still had his sass going on so she wasn't that worried about him. "I think we could do better."

He rolled his eyes. "Yea, well, you let me know what colorful details we need to add to our story before you start telling it to our kids, or I might have to give you the same look Voight was giving you downstairs."

Her lips turned up. "Please don't. It's kind of unattractive."

"Yea, a little," Jay grinned.

They just lay there a while – staring at each other. She massaged a bit at his upturned, un-burnt shoulder while his hand landed on her hip and started playing with the belt loops on her shorts. His hands eventually running down her bare thigh before coming back up and settling more on her ass cheek than her hip.

"I realized this weekend that we're likely fucked with the whole taking Eth to the cabin thing," Jay told her after a while.

She gave him a little smile and shrugged. "We'll do OK."

He made a small sound and looked at her. "Your dad, Voight," he near sighed, "he just doesn't stop. Like even when he's doing his own thing – he's there. He's watching Eth. Checking in. Taking care of him."

She allowed a little nod. "I know," she agreed. "But Eth needs that right now, until he learns how to better watch and manage his symptoms and medications and pseudo-flares on his own. We'll be OK, though. We deal with it too all the time, Jay. If Hank was worried about us managing it, he would've said something about it by now."

"It's not just that," Jay said and let out a long sigh while staring at her.

She could see in his eyes that he was processing something and trying to find the words he wanted to use to express whatever it was. She was starting to get concerned that maybe him and Hank had had more of a heart-to-heart or man-to-man than either of them had let on earlier. That Hank had said something about their relationship or their engagement or the lack of a wedding date or wanting more grandkids or transfer papers at work or something that had rubbed Jay the wrong way. So she rubbed her thumb more against his shoulder, trying to get him to spill whatever it was he wanted to say or needed to say. To let him know that he could tell her. That it was OK.

"It's just that … he's there," Jay said. "He's engaged. That guy downstairs keeping court. The guy in this house. That's not the guy at work."

"Yea, it is, Jay. It's just a different side of him. The way he protects his family – he protects us on the job. He protects the city. He just … is able to use some different parts of him to do that. We aren't exactly the same people at home as we are at work."

"Yea, we are," Jay said.

Erin gave her head a little shake. "Not with the people we care about," she said. "They bring out different parts of us too. Ethan doesn't know the work us – the ones that the perps see or the ones blacked out, heading into a tactical situation with guns in hand and adrenaline pumping. The people we are after we've pulled a trigger or had to fill out forms to defend a kill shot."

"We're still those people," Jay said. "Even at home."

She shrugged. "And Sergeant Voight is still in Hank when he's at home too. But it doesn't mean all those ways we need to be at work need to be on the surface at home. Who wants to live like that every hour of every day?"

"So he just turns it off?"

She snorted at him and cocked her eyebrow. "Do you just turn it off?"

He let out a huff. She reached and touched his scruffy cheek. He was going to have trouble shaving it for the next while with the burn so she'd better get used to the start of a beard he had. Jay could actually fill out a beard pretty quick. If his skin was too sensitive to shave that week, he'd likely have full-on facial hair by the end of it.

"I like Jay the cop as much as I like … love … the guy I get off shift," she told him. "They're both good guys and they aren't as unlike as you think. Same with Hank. He's just able to deal with situations and express them a little differently at work than at home. He's still him here. He's still strict and blunt and he'd still do just about anything to protect and take care of his family – just like he would our unit and the city."

"See, that's the thing," Jay muttered. "This weekend. Alone with them. Watching him and Eth. Listening to him talk to the kid. Him talking to me. As much as he talks. He cares. He really fucking cares. Even though he's not all mushy, soft about it. It just …" Jay shook his head and his eyes looked up at the ceiling in frustration. "… it oozes off him and how it deals with the kid. How he talks to any of you. You, Eth, Justin. Even Olive and Henry. About his wife …"

She gazed at him, frowning a bit. "And that still … surprises you?"

She knew that Jay struggled with Hank. The moral grey area. The conflicting viewpoints on what was right and what was wrong. How to deal with certain situations. When revenge was warranted and when it wasn't. What constituted justified revenge. How to do the job. Where lines were. When lines were crossed. But at the same time, Jay and Hank weren't that dissimilar. They were more alike than either of them wanted to admit. They were likely more alike than Erin wanted to think about because it seemed strange to know she was attracted to – what engaged to be married to – a guy who reminded her of the guy who raised her in a lot of ways. But she also didn't think that was such a bad thing. And, she knew that both of them had a certain level of respect for each other – that they were just starting to admit and acknowledge. That that was a challenge for both of them. They were accountable to each other in their own ways. And maybe they both needed that too.

He brought his eyes back to her. "You want to know what kind of shitty guy I actually am?"

Her eyes saddened and her frown deepened. "Jay …," she sighed. "You're a good guy."

"Yea," he muttered. "Then how come I spent a good part of the weekend being fucking jealous of you and wondering what the fuck is wrong with me my dad didn't look at me like that? Care about me like that? What the hell was wrong with my mom that he didn't get that look on his face and sound in his voice whenever he even fucking mentioned her?"

She shook her head and gripped at his shoulder more. "Jay, that has nothing to do with you. Or your mom. That's your dad. Some people just aren't meant to be parents. We both know that."

He let out a slow breath and stared at her. "I'm glad you got the chance to be part of a family like this," he finally admitted apologetically.

She gave him a thin smile and nudged a little closer to him, leaning in to place a light kiss on his sun-chapped lips. She ran her hand through his hair and then circled her fingers around his ear, massaging gently at the lobe.

"Me too," she allowed. "And I'm glad you're getting a chance to be part of it now." He made a little sound – some quiet sadness and almost slight disagreement. So she frowned a little bit more. "Sometimes you get to choose your family, Jay. As adults, we get to choose the family we make. If we have kids, the family we bring them into. We're lucky. They're going have people who look at them and care about them that much. They're parents. Their dad. Their granddad. They're going to be OK. Just like us."

He gazed at her. "You really think we turn it off when we leave work?"

She shook her head. "No," she said. "But I think we know what we care about and what's important to use – and how to place the right energies in those places. And family will be one of those things."

He made a little noise again and rested his head more on her arm and just gazed at her in his quiet philosopher contemplation. Sometimes she wasn't sure he bought any of the reassurances she gave him. But at least he asked for them. Because Erin really did think they'd be OK. If they could both get to their 30s as functional, she was pretty sure now that they were together they could manage getting farther than that – together.


	109. Smacked

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 107 - Sunstroke.**

Hank grabbed the little piece of gauze and pressed it into the spot just about his son's hip that he'd just pulled the needle from, Magoo's hand automatically coming down and holding it in place himself.

"OK, there you go, Kiddo," Hank mumbled, as he rose from the side of the E's bed to take the sharp across the hall and toss in the bin under the bathroom sink.

The kid still gazed at him as he came back into the room to retrieve the little injection kit to take back down to the fridge. He allowed him the thinnest smile as he picked it up from where he'd left it on his boy's nightstand.

"Dad, look," Eth said to him and Hank cast him a glance to see he was holding up his opposite hand –his dominant left – to demonstrate the tremor shaking through it. "Still."

Hank let out an inward sigh, taking a deep breath, while he zipped the kit. "You're just going to have to try to sleep it off, Magoo."

"But I can see it," E said. "Feel it."

Hank gave him a little pucker and shrugged at him. "Ethan, we've talked about this with your doctors, OK. Summer. These hot days. They're going to create these pseudo flares."

"Why?" Ethan gazed at him with this sadness that Voight so fucking hated in him.

The kid had too much fucking sadness in him and it fucking killed him that he couldn't fix it. It could try to make it easier for him. Make him more comfortable. Help him cope. But he couldn't fucking fix it. And more days than not that still made him feel like he was failing as a father. As a man. He was still learning to come to terms with the reality that there was a whole fucking lot in life that he couldn't fix. Not for himself. Not for his kids. Some things just were the way they were. Some things just weren't things he could fix – they were things other people needed to fix. Things his kids needed to fix or cope with on their own. Or there was just the reality that life wasn't fucking fair. And as much as he knew that was life – it always would be something you wanted to shelter your kids from. You wanted to make fucking human existence as fair as possible for them. Because they were your kids. You were their father. It was what you were supposed to do. But it just wasn't the way reality worked – even if you wanted it to. That fucking once. Or twice. Or three times. But life hadn't been that fucking fair too any of his kids – no matter what he'd done. Or worse, some days he thought it was because of what he'd done. And hadn't done.

He'd had a good Father's Day. A nice Father's Day. He'd liked it. Hadn't really had a real one in a long, long while. But as usual – like any of these things, it seemed – it just got him thinking about Camille. Thinking about the family they'd had and were back then. About what his kids had lost and weighing how much of that was his fault. How much of that he'd always carry with him even though he didn't much like to dwell on the past. But that wasn't a past you could just let go of and move on from. You don't just get over the loss of your wife. The mother of your children. The grief changed. It shifted. It became different from day to day – but some days it was still as raw as the beginning.

He was lucky. It hadn't been that raw that weekend. That day. He had his boy distracting him. And reminding him way too much of his mom. That hair of his – even with all its patchiness. Or maybe because of it. Already it was getting that look Camille's got in the summer. That Northern Italian dirty blonde popping right off his head. All his mom. Worse – harder – listening to him go on about the fishing. So much his mom. Camille would've loved having him as her fishing buddy. She likely would've been dragging him to work with her all summer. Wouldn't need to get him enrolled in summer camps. She'd have him off with her on some boat the whole holiday. Work at turning him into some sort of biologist too. Fucking kid would've likely loved that too. Hank could tell. Would've been such a Mama's Boy. He still was in a lot of ways. Still Camille's. He loved that. But it was hard too. But almost made him feel like he'd still had her with him that weekend. Still was one of planned Father's Day camping and fishing weekend. Her idea of a getaway. And Hank supposed it was his too. The simpler – the better. It'd always been the way they'd like it. Still the way he wanted it. Life was fucking complicated enough without making things complicated. He was a simple man.

Too bad life was so fucking complicated these days with his kids. Too bad Magoo was going to live a complicated life. He didn't need that. Didn't deserve it. Kid should've had all the opportunities in the world. And it felt like some days the world was conspiring to make sure he didn't. Putting barrier after barrier. Challenge after challenge up for his kid.

But Voight thought as his parent, he perceived that more than his kid. To E, this was just life. But something about that stung too.

"Because sometimes there's triggers that make your body think that it's dealing with inflammation, so your body starts acting like it would if you were having a real flare," Hank rasped at him in the dumbed down medical information that he'd felt like he'd been having to give his son like a broken record player since the summer heat and humidity started setting in. "It's giving you – us – a warning you've got to slow down and we've got to be watching for real infection so we get you into the hospital before you're in a real relapse."

"Like last summer …" Ethan muttered.

Hank let out a little sigh. "Yea, Eth, you had a bad attack last summer. But that was because we didn't know you had M.S. We didn't know that what we were looking at were flare-ups. So we didn't react quickly enough. We're on in this summer."

"Then how come I'm tremoring so bad tonight," he said with an edge of anxiety in his voice that made Hank set his ass back down on the edge of his kid's bed.

He reached and took away the gauze. He'd been holding it there long enough. He gazed briefly at his boy's abdomen. The little spots and bumps that had grown there from the repeated injections over the course of the year. He knew he should rotate right about then. Give his abdomen a break. Prick the kid in the thigh or ass. But he had enough leg pain without adding that muscle ache to it.

So he reached and pulled E's tshirt back into place and tucked the blankets back up around him, taking the hand that was tremoring and holding it in his to try to uselessly calm it. He knew it wouldn't. But sometimes holding it still – giving that firm security – was enough to slightly distract his son from the fact it was shaking. Even though Hank could still feel its tremor under his own and with holding his hand, he could now see the slight shake and twitches in his son's forearm instead. He frowned but rubbed his thumb in the palm of Magoo's hand.

"Because it was real hot this weekend, Magoo," Hank told him as gently he could manage. "The heat and humidity – the increasing of your body core temperature – that's a real trigger for you. OK? So the docs say we can expect these tremors this summer. The way your body reacts to that, you're going to get that pain in your joints too. And you're going to be battling with some real fatigue. Your body is going to think it's trying to fight something real bad. It's going to be basically attacking itself because there isn't going to be nothing going on but you being too hot."

"I don't feel hot," Ethan said. "I'm kinda cold."

Hank frowned more. "I know, Ethan. That's why we've gotta be talking to and communicating with each other. If I'm telling you to take a cool down – to get in the water or the shade – it's because I'm seeing the flare in you. I'm feeling how hot it is. Even if your body isn't letting you. And if you're feeling the tremor setting in. Or those legs and feet of yours start aching that ache bad or that fatigue just hits you – you stop. You tell me. And you get somewhere cool and rest."

Ethan let out a sigh and shifted his head to look down at the foot of his bed at his mutt. Bear might not have M.S. but the weekend camping trip had definitely left him spent too. Puppy had been pretty flaked out since they'd gotten home that afternoon. Had barely managed to pull himself off the back porch to drag his tail upstairs to bed.

"Isn't there some pill or something I can just take," Ethan muttered.

Voight reached and ran his hand through the kid's hair. Camille's hair. Even with all his efforts that weekend, E had still gotten a bit of sun on his face. Didn't look too bad, though. Not baked like Halstead. The guy had hardly touched his dinner and what he did eat, he'd gone from red to green around the gills. Sure sign that he was dealing with more than a sunburn if he was planning on puking up his meal. Jagoff better not be calling in sick in the morning.

"Ethan, do you really want to be on more pills?" Hank put to him bluntly.

He fucking hated how much medication his son was on. He hated more that his boy would have to be pumping that shit into his body for the rest of his life. He'd far prefer to find some way to cut down on some of the shit rather than adding more of it to his system. He was a little boy. He was still growing and developing. They already had so many chemicals in his system when his body was already malfunctioning. Who fucking knew what this crap really did to a growing body long term. What it's real long-term implications where. It sure as fuck wasn't curing the disease. The fucking doctors didn't know how to do that. They were just managing it. And how fucking much was any of this stuff even managing it? They were just putting more poison in his kids body to try to discourage his body from attacking itself. Give it something else to attack instead. That's all it seemed like they were doing. Such fucking bullshit.

Camille would know better. Would understand how all this worked. Would have better opinions about all of this. More educated ones. Hank could only read and cross references so fucking much. Could only make so much sense of any of it. Really had to trust other people's expertise and opinions on a lot of this stuff. And he really fucking hated to do that when it was about his kid. Even if these people were trying to help.

"If it makes it better …" Ethan said flatly, still staring at the mutt and not him. Irony there was a lot of days, Voight felt that Bear was the best medicine Magoo had. Did a better job at making things better and easier and more tolerable for the kid than any of the things the fucking doctors pumped into him.

Voight just let out another long breath though and stared off into the opposite corner of the room for a moment. Magoo's little desk. Justin's desk actually. Just a little flat space and a hutch. A desk from before kids had computers in their rooms. Not enough space for any of that. Hardly enough space for all the little Lego space ship things Eth had lining the shelves on the hutch at the moment. Definitely not enough space for the homework he had piled on the flat space.

They hadn't done a good job at getting to homework that weekend. He'd made Ethan bring some with him and they'd had it out at the picnic table for a bit on Saturday but Voight just hadn't felt like playing tutor that weekend. Barely a week of school left and his kid was still dragging home as much work now as he'd been in September. He was just perpetually behind. He'd basically decided to give both of them a summer holiday check out that weekend, since E wouldn't be getting a summer holiday. Kid would have about a week of holidays and then he'd be right into summer school. Voight's grasping at straws attempt to keep St. Igatnius from holding his son back even when he'd been on a fucking IEP.

Mental and emotional health wise – he just wouldn't buy into that being the best solution for his son. He fucking understood his boy was academically behind. That Eth was struggling. But his child tried really fucking hard. He just had different skill sets than other kids. He learned differently. He needed more time. The IEP was supposed to be giving him that leeway but his teachers still felt between his academic development and the amount of school he'd missed that year, he'd benefit from repeating the Seventh Grade. Thing was that was going to make Magoo a bigger mark than he already was. And, Hank wasn't on-board with that. He also wasn't on-board with having to pay an extra year of private school – even if their family did get a subsidy. It was still a good chunk of change for his income and family when they were living pretty hand-to-mouth at the moment. Pay check came in and disappeared real quick these days with everything going on. Him trying to do right by all his kids and by his grandson. Making sure they were supported and had their needs attended to the best he could manage.

So instead he'd struck this deal with Mikey to send his boy to summer school. Handed out the fucking summer school fees that were nearly as fucking much as the damn Robotics camp that he'd told his son they couldn't afford. But he'd committed to the padre that Eth would get caught up that summer. That he'd go through the summer session. Get up to the grade level he needed to move along with the rest of his class. And Caruso had reluctantly agreed to let him try. So it wasn't just E who wasn't getting a summer break. Hank knew he was going to have to be busting his ass to try to get Eth caught up and his grades up a bit too. And Erin. Halstead would likely end up helping too. That was good. He was better at translating some of this fucking 21st century homework crap in certain subjects than him and Erin were. Erin just outright lost patience in some areas. Things she'd hated back when she was in Iggy's, she still hated now and didn't much like revisiting or hauling her baby brother's ass through. But they were all trying. His girl understood what it'd be like for Ethan if he got held back at that school. It's not the kind of place you want to be the retard or have more reason for people to be giving you more than that second-glance and snicker you're already getting.

"Doc said we could try that other drug," Hank muttered and moved his eyes back to his son's staring at him until Eth found his too. "But it's another needle and she said you'd be having real bad flu-like symptoms while your body got used to it. I'm not sure that's worth it, Magoo. Not when you've got summer school. Not with ball. When you've got that day camp out at Field you want to get to. Not when you want to get out camping and fishing a few more times."

Eth stared at him. Hank could tell he was processing. Again. This was another conversation they'd had multiple times over the past couple weeks. It was one that he'd prefer not to have at all but the doc had presented the possibility while Eth was still in the room. So he'd heard it. Made it harder for Hank to hide it as an option at all. Still felt that he was the parent – his kid was still the kid. It still was his decision – not Ethan's. But his son still kept coming back to it even though so far ultimately he hadn't yet asked to try it. Voight didn't think he would. Eth hated his daily injections as it was. Adding more to the mix? He probably wouldn't agree to that unless it was forced on him.

"Can't we do something else?" Ethan asked weakly.

Hank squeezed that bouncing hand a bit tighter. "We do our best to avoid anything that might cause infection. So your favorite infection sites are your kidneys, bladder and urinary tract. So that's diet, Ethan. That's you drinking lots of water and taking a leak regularly and flushing all this chemical shit out of your body as much as you can. And we do our best to keep your core temperature down so your body doesn't start thinking you're running a fever. So you cool off when you can. You take breaks in the shade. You get inside in front of a fan or in the A/C. And you sit in the pool or the bath and bring down your core."

"So maybe I should go take a shower?" Ethan put to him. "To make it stop before bed?"

Hank shook his head, adjusting himself a bit more to rest his forearm against his son's. To try to distract him from that movement too.

"Eth, your legs are too weak and shaky after this weekend," he told him. "You did a lot of standing and walking. We were in the heat a lot."

"I was in the river," he protested.

"I know," Hank agreed. "But your core temp is still up. You've been real wobbly tonight since we've been home. I don't want you standing in the shower right now on those legs. And I don't want you getting your hair and ears wet and then coming in here and laying in front of his fan," he added with a gesture. "Then we really might be dealing with some sort of ear or sinus infection." His boy looked at him sullen. "You really think it will help tonight, I can draw you a bath. But you're stumbling around too much tonight, Ethan. I thought you were going to fall coming up the stairs. So you'd have to let me help you get in and out of the tub."

Ethan gave him a firm huff and again looked away from him. But Hank adjusted himself until he caught his boy's reluctant eyes again.

"I changed a whole lot of your diapers, Ethan," he said. "You don't got nothing I haven't seen before. And I know you ain't a little boy anymore and needing help in some of these situations is kind of embarrassing. That you want to be your own man. But real men know when they need help and they know to ask for it. I'm your father. You're allowed to ask me for help – and it's my job to help you. We've both just gotta accept that. Not get embarrassed about it. It is what it is."

He just kept looking away. His face having set into a small pout. So Hank gave his belly a small pat instead.

"I think it's better, if you just go mind over matter here, Kiddo, and try to get some sleep," he provided. "Think part of it likely is that you're real overtired from the weekend."

He gave his son's hand a final squeeze and shifted slightly to start to stand but Ethan's fingers curled tightly around his, so Hank settled a bit again and looked at him.

"Is that story Erin told about you and Mom true?" he asked quietly.

Hank allowed an amused sound and shook his head a bit, staring at the dinosaur poster above Ethan's bed with all these monsters staring back at him. Funny that his kid wanted those beasts watching over him while he slept.

"Close enough," he allowed.

Ethan squinted at him. "So you asked Mom out on a date after she hit you?"

Hank did let a smile escape at that and moved his eyes back to his kid. "Yea, I guess you could say that."

Magoo squinted at him more. "Don't you think that's kind of weird?"

Voight shrugged. "Ah, well, me and your mom were kinda weird."

His boy did that scientific examination thing he did. The one that made you feel like you were under a microscope. Like he was looking right through you. The one that convinced Voight that if Eth wanted – he'd be a damn good cop some day and even though CPD likely wouldn't ever officially pin that tin on him because of his disabilities, he was still going to be a damn good asset to them. He knew how to observe. How to see. And that rewired little head of his – it saw things different than what most people saw. But that sure wasn't a bad thing. New perspectives.

"What'd you ask her to do?" Ethan asked.

Voight shrugged. "I don't know. It wasn't like that. Me and your mom … you know, it was slow. We were friends. We spent time together. Did things together. It just kind of grew over time."

"Like Erin and Jay," Ethan put flatly – as statement of fact.

"Mmm," Voight allowed. "Something like. Only we were still kids."

"So you never asked her on a date?"

"Yea, sure, I asked her on dates. But then. We were like fourteen, Magoo. It was like meeting up at the burger joint and putting back some shakes with some of our other buddies."

"So it wasn't a date?"

Voight let out an amused noise. "I don't know, Magoo. Does that sound like a date to you?"

Ethan shrugged. "So you didn't date?"

Voight reached and scrubbed at his face with his free hand. "We did but maybe not quite like you're envisioning."

"So you never took her to dinner or a movie or anything?"

Hank shrugged. "I likely got a little more elaborate with my suggested outings when I got a little bit older. Focused a bit more on us getting alone time than just a bunch of us hanging out together and me planting my ass next to your mom." E was looking at him again. That fucking look. "What's all this about?"

E kept looking at him. For so long that Voight had about lost patience and was ready to reach for the light and call it – lights out. He'd missed his window of opportunity. But his boy must've sensed that it was quickly passing because he opened his mouth and then closed it only to open it again.

"I think Eva might like me," he said quietly.

Hank felt a little smile pull at his mouth. Some happiness. Some pride. But maybe mostly just relief. Something so fucking normal and so fucking simple – that his boy was experiencing and interacting with.

And he'd seen it. Seen that it was that little girl and that lawyer's boy who'd come out to Eth's party. That she'd brought his son a gift and that been smiley and chatty with him. He'd seen the way it was that same boy and that same little girl who ended up sitting on the bench with Magoo at practices. Had seen the way they talked. Had seen some of the quiet smiles on his boy's face when she did give him some attention. That she was getting smiles out of him. Even shy laughs.

He didn't know what the girl's story was. But knew she was missing a leg. Hadn't realized that was what her disability was until Eth's party actually – when she'd shown up in shorts and the prosthetic was apparent. Hadn't pinpointed who her parents were until they'd dropped her off at the party either. And, it hadn't much mattered because even though he now could pinpoint who was with her in the crowd at practice or games – Voight kept to himself. He wasn't that interested in chit-chat. And the couple parents and guardians and whatnot that he'd been roped into talking to – no one seemed to talk about what they're kid was battling. Not really. There'd be a few vague mentions here and there – but it was usually in the context of who their PT was at RIC or what exercise or strength training they were doing to help them with their base that season. It wasn't about what had caused their kids disability. It wasn't about any of the ongoing medical bullshit any of these kids were enduring. Only time he'd heard any of that was one he'd overheard a parent sitting in the bleacher tell another parent that her son was likely going to miss most of the season now because of a surgery being scheduled. That the kid was real upset. The father had asked who the surgeon was and had just nodded and said they'd had him before and that he'd done a good job. But people weren't there for the details. They were there to support their kids. Maybe getting there and seeing other parents and family going through similar things gave some sort of support network too. A sounding board and some feedback and advise if you wanted it. But people mostly just seemed to be trying to give their kids an outlet and some normalcy. And Hank appreciated that. So what led to this kid missing a leg? Hank could only guess. And it didn't much matter as far as he was concerned – especially right now with that shy look on his newly minted teenager's face.

"Just think?" Hank put to his son.

Ethan gave a little shrug. "She keeps hitting me with her glove a lot, so maybe if Mom hit you with a ruler …"

Hank let out another quiet sound of amusement and shook his head. His eyes falling onto the picture of E as a little boy cuddled into his mom's lap that he had on his nightstand. He wondered if any part of her was in the room hearing this conversation right now – because if she was she'd likely have a smile not too dissimilar to the one in the photo painted across her face too.

"Mmm …" he grunted.

"And she said I could sit with her if I go to Movies in the Park on baseball night …" Ethan ventured with a touch of carefulness to his voice, his gaze setting more firmly on Voigh. "So … maybe that's … like a date?"

Voight allowed his boy a thin smile and still clutched at that tremoring hand. One that he thought was likely bouncing a bit with some nervousness about all this.

"Maybe," he conceded. "But, you know, Magoo, it's best to be friends before there's any of this dating stuff. So focus on all that. Be a good friend. Rest will develop on its own if there's something there."

Ethan stared at him. "Does that mean I can go to Movies in the Park?"

Voight let out a snort at that and shook his head a bit. "What is this thing?"

"Movies in the Park, Dad," Ethan provided with that 'you're getting stupid on me tone.'

"What? When? Where?" Hank put back to him more sternly – a tone to remind him not to press it with the attitude too much.

"Thursday, Dad," he said. "The last day of school. It's ball night. You get to vote on the movie they'll show. Online. I already voted. Sandlot. Eva vote for Rookie of the Year but that's kinda … well, I guess it's OK. Sandlot is just better. Evan voted for Sandlot too."

"Mmm …," Hank grunted. There they go. The Three Es. Triple Threat. He'd sort of suspecting some friendship was developing between the three of them. Just what he needed. His kid hanging out with a lawyer's kid. A bloody ADAs kid. And two boys and that little girl. Starts of a love triangle. Teenaged drama likely lay in the future. Oh, well. Right now – meant his fucking kid had the start of some friendships going on. That was a good thing. "Evan's going too?"

"Yea," Ethan nodded. "And it's at Oz Park so it's near his house. So he says we can have a sleepover there after."

"Ahh …," Hank nodded and looked at him. "His mom is letting him have a girl over for a sleepover?"

Ethan squinted at him. "Dad, it's not like we'll be doing anything."

"Mmm …," Hank grunted. Doing nothing was usually what got kids in a whole lot of trouble as far as he was concern.

"He gets to pick out a videogame for the summer if he gets a good report card. Because he's allowed to play videogames in the summer. And he says his report card is gonna be good and he's gonna pick The Show."

Hank made a face at him and shrugged.

"The Show," Ethan pressed like he was some kind of idiot. "Baseball, Dad. It's the best baseball game. So we're just gonna play that ALL NIGHT."

"What happened to this RBI thing you were all about this morning?"

"That's the Xbox one. It sucks. But we have Xbox. Evan has Playstation."

"So you wanted to spend your money on a game that sucks?" Hank put to him.

"Dad!" Ethan sputtered. "That's not the point. Can I go?"

Hank let out a sigh and scrubbed at his face for a moment and gazed at his son. "Magoo, you know how you are at night …"

"Dad," he did whine at that point. "I'll take a nap when I get home from school, I promise. The movie isn't that late. It's only eight-thirty."

Hank grunted. "And what about this sleepover? You think you get out of a movie at what? Ten-thirty? After a school day, you're goin' be in any shape to stay up all night playing some videogame? Don't think there will be much sleeping at this sleepover."

"It's the last day of school, Dad," he argued with a bit more force. "There's not school the next day. Please. They might not ask me again if I say no. I've never been invited to a sleepover before. Or asked out or … whatever. To hang out."

"How 'bout you invite them over here on Friday instead? Give you free range on screen time. Find a game on TV. Go down to the park. Play some sucky Xbox. I'll—"

"Dad!" Ethan spat and gave him a pleading look.

Hank looked at him and felt that shaking hand under his. His little, sick boy, trying so hard to grow up and to be normal. Things he wanted for him. But an area that was hard to manage when you were the parent – and you still saw your dead wife's baby there … broken. You were still trying to piece him together and get him back on his way. But maybe he was getting him more on his way than he thought. And that's what he wanted. Was what he was supposed to be doing. Maybe he was fixing things better than he'd given himself credit for.

He squeezed at Magoo's hand. "Yes to the movie," he said flatly. "The sleepover – I want to talk to Evan's mom first."

A little smile tugged at Ethan's lips. "She'll convince you," he said.

Yea, Hank didn't doubt it. If not, he had a feeling that Camille would find some ruler in the afterlife to smack him with too. Got him a date. Got him a fucking wife eventually. Maybe it'd at least get his son some friends too.


	110. Cock Block

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 108 - Smacked.**

Jay let out an annoyed noise as Erin checked out. The kiss broke. She shifted away from him. And she reached for her ringing phone.

"Erin, don't," he chastised her.

It wasn't her work phone. If it was, he knew it'd stop vibrating any second and it would be his that was vibrating instead likely. But the ring tone – the opening notes of Jurassic Park – was a dead giveaway who was on the other end of the line.

And it kind of pissed him off. Ethan could be such a cock-block. In so many ways. It didn't fucking matter how much he'd bought into the fact that Ethan was a part of Erin's life and she took her role in his life rather seriously – sometimes it just annoyed the fuck out of him. Though, he imagined the cock-block that Eth provided was exactly the way Voight wanted. Some part of his plan. Part of the reason he'd given his backward blessing to their relationship. Because he fucking knew that either the relationship would be short-lived because most guys would go running from this situation. Or he knew that juggling Eth would mean the amount of time they actually had to dedicate to their relationship was really fucking limited a lot of weeks. They could only get in so much trouble. Though, it sure made it seem like they were playing house a whole lot more than it likely would if they were just fucking around and finding their grove as a couple without the fucking dynamic having a thirteen-year-old kid in the mix provided. Funny since it seemed to be playing house was what Voight had previously had a problem with. Apparently that wasn't an issue anymore. At least for Voight.

A bit of an issue for Jay. Bit for a real fucking reality check on what life might look like if they ever did have kids. There were good parts about it but there were a whole lot of headaches, frustrations, pains in the ass and blue balls in it too.

Worse too because Erin had been so hands off about any intimacy they'd even strayed into the past week. He didn't know what was going on. He knew the excuses she was giving. Tired, distracted. Reasonable enough. But still, they usually still took advantage of the time alone they actually got together where they were at one of their own places and not working. Now this was the closest he'd gotten to getting laid in the better part of ten days – which was a long fucking time for them – and she was pushing him away from her so she could talk to her brother.

"It's Ethan," she mumbled at him as she looked at the display.

"So?" Jay pressed at her.

She cast him a dirty look. "He's at his first sleepover," she said.

"Yea, exactly." He eyed her.

"It might be an emergency," she said.

Jay rolled his eyes and sat up a bit on the couch. He could tell he was losing this battle even though the phone at stopped ringing. She was still looking at it – waiting for a voice mail alert or a text to pop up.

"If it was an emergency the kid's mom would be calling Voight or an ambulance," he said.

Erin gave him a look. "If something's happening – he'd call me, not his dad. He'd too embarrassed to tell Hank he can't handle it."

"Erin," Jay put to her firmly, "he went to boarding school, he can handle a sleepover."

"That was different," she muttered, "and I'm not sure how well he 'handled' that either."

Jay sighed. "Erin, seriously. Picking up work phones is one thing. Picking up a call from your little brother in the middle of—"

She cast him a look. "We weren't in the middle of anything."

He cocked his eyebrow at her. She just shook her head at him and turned back to her phone as a text message dinged in.

They were definitely now officially done. Even if it was nothing – he'd pissed her off. So their middle of anything would now be the middle of nothing just for her to prove her point and to exercise her control in the relationship. Because that's just the way their fucking dynamic worked. Just like they had a bit of an unstated agreement that she teased him. That she dangled the possibility of getting laid in front of him. Still. Now. Enticed him. That that was part of her control factor. That she decided on the when, what, how. He didn't push her or press her. If she wasn't interested or put on the brakes – they stopped. Full stop. And it was pretty clear that right now – that night – they'd hit the full stop point and even expressing his annoyance at that was only going to make the halt that much firmer. The heels were already digging in. And pressuring her about it – pressing her about it – that did nothing for neither of them. Beyond nudge them into territory that neither of them liked going into. Open up wounds and baggage and anger – that they ended up directing at each other and ended up causing one or both of them to shut down more. Which would do nothing to help him getting laid anytime soon either.

"Erin …," he sighed at her again, though, as her eyes set on the text and she started keying in a response.

She gave him another glance. "I picked up the phone when he called from school too," she said. "And he called me a lot more about the 'can't handle it' things than he ever did his dad."

Her phone rang again and she just raised her eyebrow at him – defiantly – and picked it up, putting the phone to her ear. "What's wrong?" she asked into the mouthpiece, crunching forward on the couch, her elbows resting on her knees while she listened.

Jay couldn't do anything but let out another sound of exasperation and sit up too. Because they were done. Clearly. So he might as well occupy the other side of the couch. Hell, he might as well put on a fucking documentary. Something about mammals on the Discovery Channel. They'd be getting more than him. Always had.

"Ethan…" Erin sighed into the phone and crouched over more, giving Jay a look but he just cocked his eyebrow at her. He could only manage half-ways interested. Sure, he cared the kid was having a rough time – or whatever – at the sleepover. But he only cared so much. The kid had fucking begged to go. So he kind of thought unless he'd lost a finger or something, he could likely suck it up.

"Well, where are you?" she said and rubbed at her own eyebrow. "So just go out and get your bag and change."

Jay sighed at that – because it became clear what had happened – and he felt a little bad for the kid at that. No kid after they reached about kindergarten wanted to be pissing themselves in public. No kid in middle school wanted that to happen to him – especially a newly minted teenager. And, especially, not a kid who was at a sleepover trying to firm up some friendships with kids from his ball team. It was about the closest Jay had seen the kid get to anything that resembled a friendship yet that year he'd been home. Sure, he'd had some kids he trailed around after – or in Max's case, trailed around after him – but he didn't exactly have anything that resembled friends. And, he definitely hadn't been invited out to do anything outside of his organized activities before. So pissing his pants wasn't exactly an ideal situation.

But it was just an Eth situation. Add it to the list of shit the poor kid had to deal with and wasn't exactly ready to deal with in some of the most optimal ways yet. Couldn't exactly blame him. But confining himself to the house wasn't exactly the answer to dealing with it. And making everyone else around him take note of every washroom they went by and trying to ensure they were within dashing distance to one at all times wasn't exactly the best method either. And even that didn't much matter in the end. Because the real problem was that sometimes Eth just didn't seem to register until it was too late. It was just this fucking urgency like he just suddenly realized he had to take a leak without forewarning. Or worse, it seemed like the kid's bladder just didn't empty properly. That those muscles or nerves didn't work right. That he'd think he was done taking his piss. It'd look like he was done taking his piss and then was buttoning up his pants only for his bladder to decide it wasn't done yet. Piss all over himself. Sometimes it was just enough for a wet spot and sometimes it was enough for a full on, down the leg piss. Jay had been in the can with him in public more than once now when that happened and the kid just … well … he got it. That wasn't a great situation to be in. Really emotionally upsetting and just such a betrayal from his body.

It was just at the point that there was always a spare set of clothes for the kid around. Extra uniforms and briefs at his school in the nursing station. Change in Voight's office and Erin's locker. Change in everyone's vehicles. Change stuffed in Eth's backpack at all times. And usually an extra one stuffed somewhere else whenever anyone had him out. The kid basically had a secondary wardrobe spread across Chicago.

But beyond what they were doing – noting bathrooms, avoiding taking him out on days where frequency or urgency seemed like an issue or when he was flaring, carrying extra clothes with them, being conscious of his fluid intake on days they might not have a bathroom available – there was really only so much they could do. Apparently there were some drugs that "might" help but other drugs and just the disease itself made it worse. So until it reached the point (which no one wanted for him either) of total bladder malfunction and they started talking about fucking catheters and urine bags strapped to him permanently, the only surefire option was to put the kid in fucking diapers, which no one seemed on-board with at all. So basically everyone just had to cope.

But that wasn't exactly a stellar situation for a thirteen-year-old kid to cope with, even if you had to push at him that he had to cope with it. Try to convince him that it wasn't that big of deal and he could be worse off. Which was true. Jay could think of worse things the kid could be dealing with. Shittier situations. Fuck, the kid saw some shittier situations he could be stuck in at the Rehab Center every week. There were some kids on his ball team who Eth acknowledged he was glad he "just had M.S. and TBI" because it looked better than some of the shit that these other kids were having to preserver through and live with. But looking a kid in the eye and telling him to suck it up and man up and stop his whining wasn't exactly easy even though Jay usually specialized in telling people off like that most of the time.

He was just glad that most of the time he had to look at the kid's embarrassed face and glassy eyes and tell him it wasn't a big deal, that he could handle it, to suck it up – he was usually dealing with helping him clean up … himself, or the floor, or vomit, or the clothes he'd thrown food all over because he was tremoring or what the fuck ever it was that day or week or month. It made him feel like less of an ass pushing "man up" at the kid. At least he was helping him while he said it.

"Ethan, they aren't going to notice," Erin put firmly into the phone and listened. "Then, Ethan, you've had to deal with other situations where people have seen. You just deal with it. These kids are your friends." She sighed and ran her hand through her hair. "What do you mean?" She looked at Jay and rolled her eyes. "Did your dad send you with an extra set of pills?" She pulled her phone away from her ear and looked at it before putting it back to her ear. "You should've taken those pills hours ago, Ethan," she said sternly and then shook her head. "No, Ethan, part of being responsible for your health is taking your medication on time. You don't put it off because you're afraid people will see. Who cares if people see?" She made an exasperated noise. "Well, you were likely tremoring because you didn't take your medication on time," she said with clear annoyance. "And then that tremor is why you tossed those pills down the drain, isn't it?" She pinched at the bridge of her nose. "Yes, I know when it's hot out and when you're tired you tremor more. But you knew the movie was outside and you knew it was going to be a late night – and you still argued with your dad to go." She sat up a bit straighter. "I'm not sure what you want me to do about this, Ethan," she said firmly. "You're a big boy."

She let out another noise and slumped back into the couch, crossing her free arm across herself. "They're going to notice something is going on even more if I come and get you," she told him bluntly. "Dad's going to figure it out when he goes to pick you up in the morning and you aren't there," she added. "If I come get you, I'm going to have to tell him something," she pressed. "Well, Ethan, you clearly can't handle it. So maybe he was right." She gazed up at the ceiling. "You're talking on the phone in the bathroom," she said. "They likely already know something is up … Ethan, they've dealt with their own health issues too. OK? They aren't going to say anything. You hang up. You go get your backpack. You change into your pajamas and you put your stuff in a plastic bag and we'll put it through the laundry tomorrow. … Eth, it's after midnight. Tell them you're ready to get some sleep. You sound really overtired. … OK. … Well, you sit there and think about it. … OK, Ethan. … Bye."

She let out a long sigh and leaned forward to put the phone back on the coffee table. She stared straight ahead while Jay looked at the side of her ear. He could tell she was thinking and stewing. Angry and frustrated and annoyed – and this whole fucking realm of emotions that came into playing with dealing with someone with illness when it was a kid and when it was family and when you wanted to have your own life and privacy and were trying to manage a job and a relationship too. Jay could related.

"You going to go check on him?" he finally put to her ear.

She let out a noise and slowly turned to him. "You think I should?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Do you?"

She made another frustrated noise. Her face depicting just how torn she was on how to do deal with this. "He's hiding out in the bathroom," she put flatly.

Jay allowed a little nod. "Yea, I got that."

She shook her head and went back to gazing straight ahead. "He's thirteen. He wanted to go. He needs to learn to handle these kinds of situations on his own."

"Yea … he does …," Jay agreed with a softer edge.

She glanced at him. "You don't agree?" she said, her eyes piercing into him. "You're always lecturing him on dealing."

Jay shrugged. "Yea …," he acknowledged.

Erin sighed and shook her head. She was clearly torn. She ran her hand through her hair.

"What's going on with his meds?" Jay asked.

She made an upset noise and looked at him. "He's tremoring. Opened his pillbox over the sink and sent them flying down the drain."

Jay made his own noise of frustrated annoyance and stared at the television. "Calling Voight?"

Erin shrugged. "I call him and he will go over and get him. Won't want him missing his pills."

"Well, he shouldn't miss his pills," Jay provided, giving her a look. She met his eyes. "Do you have a set here?"

She sighed and sunk her shoulder back into the couch to examine him. "Yeah …," she acknowledged.

"So do you want to take them over?" he asked.

"Jay, it's after midnight …,"

He shrugged at her. "He called you."

"He always calls me," she muttered.

Jay reached and found her hand, giving it a squeeze. "There's a reason for that."

She sighed at him and he gave her a thin smile. Reassurance that he wasn't going to be too pissed that once again their relationship seemed to be put on the backburner for either the job or her family. That as easy as Burgess claimed they made it look – it sure wasn't fucking easy. That it was this incremental carving out of time for themselves while always knowing they were just a phone call away from it being snatched away from them. That beyond dealing with their own idiosyncrasies and dynamics, they had other people's in the mix and interfering. That it was this fucking little dance of steps forward and steps backwards. But it supposed at least they were doing the dance together.

And right then she still had a hold of his hand as she stood – stepping back onto the fucking dance floor that was their lives. Their relationship. More like a fucking obstacle course. A tough mudder. But they kept slogging through.

"I'm driving," she said, retrieving her keys.

"I know," Jay said.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: The chapter before this was posted. It's got a weird reader count. Either I've lost a bunch of readers or FF did something wonky. Might want to check and make sure. Readers, comments, feedback and reviews are appreciated.**


	111. One Size Don't Fit All

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 108 - SMACKED.**

"How's Lexi?" Voight asked put to Al ask they rounded the corner.

Been a while since he'd gotten much face time with the guy that wasn't in the bullpen. Figured the minor slowdown that week was enough to warrant leaving the desk. Usually didn't have much of an appetite. Not much point in having an appetite when you're only feeding one. Changed with Magoo home. Actually put meals on the table most nights. Meant he was actually eating real home-cooked food on a pretty regular basis too. Had also meant that he was starting to miss getting the occasional crap that you're supposed to eat as a cop.

Only had so many years left paying his dues to the dirt. Might as well do some gluttony while he was at it. Wanted a fucking Italian beef. The fucking grease. A real good combo.

Al wasn't one to turn down a free meal. Since Voight was buying. So he'd agreed to the outing. Got them the fuck away from all the kids who were fucking shooting for some sort of early release, like the bad guys battened down the hatches for the long weekend or something.

They had enough files open and intel coming in. They could fucking put in their day. Still on the clock until quitting time, as far as Voight was concerned. Not fucking Christmas where he was going to play nice about it. Just the fucking Fourth of July. Not even. They were getting a long weekend anyway that year – didn't need to make it extra long for them so they could go out with their trousers open and start baking in the sun with their pops early.

"Still threatening to take a year off before college," Al muttered with clear distaste.

Hank just grunted some recognition. Already at this conversation. Teenaged girl. Some things they change their minds about every ten minutes. Other things they get in their head and there's no budging them. Stubborn as fucking mules. Dug their heels it. Likely got it from their mothers. Though, Voight would wager that Al likely had some influence in Lexi's temperament too. Sure as fuck had to be stubborn to stick it out living in a garage for years on end in an effort to make amends with your wife and daughter. Even more fucking stubborn to standby your responsibilities when some kid you didn't know you had showed up and your wife was really ready to kick you to a curb. But Hank would give Al that – he was a family man. He got it. Knew he had to be there for his kids even if it fucking tore your heart out. Cost you your marriage. Fuck … cost you the family you thought you were fighting for. But kids were still family and he was managing to keep that family – those important ones – in place. So fuckin' A on him.

"Yea, well, Erin didn't jump into no college after high school either," Voight offered again. Been his reassurance in the past. Like his two oldests' fuck-ups somehow meant that Lexi would get her head on straight and end up in the lecture hall and with her degree eventually. And likely would. Lexi was a bright girl. A little spoiled and doted on by mom and dad but real bright, real smart. And a nice, nice kid. She'd sort it out. Get her life in order. Kids seemed to need more fucking time than they had been allowed when him and Al were their age. Fuck. Kids Lexi's age seemed to need even more time than kids Erin and Justin's ages. Like they wanted their childhood and teen-aged years to span right up to thirty and beyond anymore. E would likely think he was allowed to be a little brat until he was forty at the rate society was condoning all this 'delayed-adulthood' mumbo jumbo. It wasn't delayed adulthood. It was fucking baby boomers and Gen-Xers coddling their kids to the point that they never really left the nest.

"Erin did night school," Al muttered, pulling his toothpick out of his mouth to clear up his slur. "Had a job."

"Yea … kicking and screaming …" Voight said. Because there sure as fuck had been a whole lot of arm twisting. Not so much about her getting a part-time job and getting the hell off her ass and off their couch and being accountable to them about where the fuck she was if she was still going to be living in their house. It'd been doing some night school courses she'd put up the fuss about. A real fucking fuss. Kid had been so done with school. They'd near had to write up a fucking contract about what expectations they had for her, if they weren't going to kick her out on her ass with a high school diploma and her 18th birthday under her belt. Not that him and Cami would've done that. Likely would've argued with her until they were blue in their faces – or she reached her 21st birthday. But apparently they'd put in the screws hard enough that she'd defiantly agreed to taking at least one night course a term, getting a job and putting in at least 24 hours a week, no more fucking allowance, being the one responsible for dropping Justin off at fucking Iggy's in the morning and the one accountable if they got some fucking call that the kid didn't make it to first bell because she didn't watch him walk in the fucking door, and that she'd help out with Magoo and still be doing chores around the house – no matter how big she felt she was for her breeches at that point. She'd agreed. Stubbornly. And, though, there were still arguments pretty fucking regularly about her not being a kid and them not being her "parents" and not telling her what to do or how to live her life and she could be out at all hours of the night if she wanted to because she was an 'adult'. But she'd still fucking mostly abided by the rules – and the consequences for breaking them, which were a whole lot harder to come up with for a eighteen and nineteen and twenty-year-old – until she'd gotten into the Academy and almost finished it out. Made since for her to go at that point. It was time. Get on with her life as a real adult. So it'd worked out.

J too. He'd made a whole lot bigger mess of it in his late-teens and early-twenties than Erin had. But he was getting it straightened out now. Slowly. At least he was living his life now. Supposedly as an adult, though, Voight was rather acutely aware that his previous measure of adulthood – marriage, father – didn't quite apply to his son the way he had hoped. More of this fucking Millennial Syndrome as he'd come to think of it. He didn't fucking speak Millennial. And he sure as fuck didn't speak whatever the fuck Magoo was. Gen-Z? iGen? Or some sort of bullshit. But the point being that his son for all his fucking faceplants after he finished up high school was now set to get his college degree too.

So Voight wasn't too worried about Lexi. But wasn't his kid. And got that it was Al's first foray into this life stage with your child. And that post-high school period is fucking bullshit. Kids think they are way more grown up than they are the second they start their Senior Year. Hell, the second they finish up their Junior Year. After they hit their 18th birthday and have that fucking useless high school diploma in hand? All bets are off. You just gotta hold on for the ride and tell yourself that at some point a few years down the line they're going to realize that they weren't quite as grown up as they thoughts, they still needed you and used you and depended on you a whole lot more than they wanted to admit, and they were going to wake up one morning and realize that you weren't quite as stupid and annoying as they thought.

It just seemed to take a while for them to get there. Sometime between twenty-one and twenty-four, Voight thought Al might get to enjoy his kid again. At least that was his experience.

Late-teens, early-twenties. They aren't fun times as a parent. Lose your kids on a whole lot of levels in those years. Just gotta trust you did a decent job raising them and that eventually they'll come back to you.

And they did. As real adults and then it was a whole new relearning of how to have a relationship with them. But at least then it got to be a little more fun again. More relaxed. Different but a decent phase, as far as Voight could tell.

Then you got the grandkids to get the real fun ages of kids again. And the added bonus of handing them back to your kids when they weren't so fun anymore and letting the little brats be a nice reality check of all the crap they'd put you through in the past. Then it really started to get driven home that maybe you weren't so bad as a parent and weren't as dumb as they might've thought. Life's fucking funny that way.

"There isn't any kicking and screaming from Lexi," Al said. "She's taking a 'gap year'."

Voight cast him a look. "What the fuck is that?"

"Sitting on her ass contemplating her future, as far as I can tell," Al said. "With a couple trips, I'm assuming financed by the Bank of Mom and Dad, because it sure doesn't sound like her plans include a lot of time for things like a job."

Voight snorted and eyed him. "A 'gap year'?" he put to him again and shook his head.

At least neither of his kids had tried to pull the wool of his eyes with that bullshit. But him and Cami would've tore Erin and J a new one if either of them had even attempted to broach that. Sitting on your ass being all existential about their so-called existence wasn't something their household tolerated. And if they expected some trip? Well, then they could fucking pull their thumbs out of their asses and finance that themselves. But Meredith had a soft touch and she sure had a sore spot with Alvin anymore. Justifiably so. But it meant sometimes she seemed to do shit that really pushed his buttons. This seemed like it was definitely going to push at some of Al's buttons real good. Voight didn't blame him. He'd likely rip into the kids in they plied him with that line.

"Imagine trying to get that by your old man," Voight offered.

"Yea, well, imagine talking to your old man," Al said.

Voight just grunted. He knew he wouldn't have pulled that line on his old man either. His old man would've fucking laughed in his face. But also a conversation he never got to have. Didn't have much of any conversations with his pops about what his future – adulthood – would look like. Not when he'd lost him at fifteen. Had pretty much had to grow up right then on the day he was shot. Be the man of his house. Be there for him mom. Hadn't ever had much of a discussion with her about his future either. Made his own decisions. Forged his own path. Hadn't had a whole lot of time to fuck around with finding himself or whatever kind of bullshit kids anymore wanted to call it. He just fucking got on with it.

Al might've still had his old man back in those days. But same thing. Get fucking on with it. Grow up. Be a fucking man. An adult. But it was a different generation. Sometimes Voight felt like these generations anymore – these kids – they weren't exactly made for living in the real world. Or at least in Chicago. They were just too fucking soft. But the city was softer too. Or at least that's the fucking optics it wanted to present. Make it bright and shiny for the tourists and all these 'young professionals' and 'Millennials' flooding their trendy neighborhoods while letting the rest of the city and its industrious history root. Trying to look at the war they had going on in their streets through rose colored glasses.

But how the fuck did you raise a kid to operate in the real world when that world just changed so fucking quickly anymore? Still grappling with that on his own with E. Harder now. And not just because he was doing it alone. Just because the world was a different place. How kids thought about things. The things they had access to. The way they communicated and talked and interacted with things … people … society. It was so fucking different from even when he was raising Erin and J.

Fuck not knowing how to keep up. How could he when he couldn't even imagine what kind of fucking world he'd be launching his son into adulthood into another five or so years down the road? So the best he could do was protect this city and the people in it. Protect his kid and his family. So he had some idea about what his boy would be walking into and then just pray to whatever the fuck you prayed to that he was prepared to take those steps. That he'd kept the city together enough – cleaned it up enough, protected it and policed it enough – that it was a decent enough place to still step out in. That it was still the fucking best city in the world. Still worth fighting for. Still worth wanting to stay – to make his life there and to have a life there.

That's the best you could ever fucking do.

Voight glanced at a shop as they passed and slowed his step. He gestured at the door. "Got a sec. Want to go in here," he put to Alvin. Wasn't so much a request as it was a statement. Buying the guy lunch. He could humor him for a second. Not that O would likely end up letting him foot the bill. Pride thing. Go dutch.

Alvin glanced at the storefront but just gave him a shrug. Tossing his toothpick to the ground, as he moved in the door behind Voight.

Voight moved briskly through the displays to the college kid they had at the cash register. Kid looked more like she should be hanging out on the beach on the West Coast than some surf and skate shop in the middle of Chicago. But that was likely the point.

"Got rash guards?" Voight put to her bluntly, as she gave him and Alvin's presence a questioning look. They weren't likely anywhere within the realm of their usual clientele. The kid just nodded at him speculatively and pointed to a rack off to the side.

Not exactly respectful service but Voight didn't feel the need to make chit-chat with the kid either. Didn't need her help to take a look at the rack.

"'Rash guards'?" Al put to him speculatively, mirroring the tone he'd used about the whole 'gap year' thing.

Voight shrugged at him as he made his way over to the rack. "UV shirts," he put flatly, as he started to flip through the items, scanning prices, and sizes. He didn't much care what the fucking thing looked like but the one who ended up wearing it likely would. Sure there was some brand or design that was cool or trending or whatever the fuck the kids called it anymore. But Magoo would just get cheap and neutral. Maybe not both. "Some of the meds Ethan's on, supposed to avoid the sun. Burns. Fucking ulcers boil up."

Al just made a vague sound of acknowledgement at that and reached to pull out one of the gaudy shirts. Looked like the wearer really did want to be on a tropical vacation. Voight just wanted something to cover his kid up in when he was off in the park, at the pool, or out at the beach.

"Can't pawn this errand off on Lindsay?" he put to him mutedly.

Voight smacked. "Seen the way she dresses."

"Thought she was just modeling after you," O provided flatly.

Voight cast him a look. "Think you're one to be commenting on fashion sense, O?"

Truth was his girl was fucking sick of having to take E shopping and she'd only had to do it a handful of times. But E was a pain in the pass. Clothes shopping with him was a fucking giant pain in the ass right now anyway. He took forever to dress himself so taking him to try anything on in the store was a battle. And then he was at the fucking age and size where he really still fit into boys' clothing but he wanted to graduate more to men's sizes and styles and brands. Get into the 'teen' section – and pricetags. But he barely fit into a man's small. Sizing was all off and Voight didn't like dropping the cash on clothes that didn't fit him properly. The shit hanging off him just made him look smaller and sicker. Fuck. He'd be happy if his kid fucking outgrew something before it got its full use at this point.

But O just allowed a small amused sound and flipped through a few more of the tops on his side. "She's come along way," Alvin muttered. "Remember when …" Hank glanced over to see him gesturing at his thigh, in clear reference to the fucking short skirts and ripped up tshirts with plunging necklines that showed off way too much – especially on a fourteen year old kid – that it'd taken them a good half a year to tear her out of after she'd come home.

Poor kid was so pale, malnourished and street-hardened that she did look like a kiddie-pro and a junkie, even though he'd already spent nearly two years pulling her away from those influences and lifestyles before he did bring her home. Still, hadn't much looked like the kind of kid you'd want in your home or that Meredith had been too thrilled about playing with Lexi when they'd been over to dinner.

Still, Voight just made a grunt of acknowledgement.

"Cleans up nice," O added.

"Yea, when she wants," Voight allowed. He didn't have no issue with the way his girl dressed anymore. Most days. Put on suitable attire for the job. Still were times he thought she tried to mix things up a little too much in some ill advised ways. Usually let her know too. Would get those fucking arms crossed at him and that fucking tone about how he didn't get to tell her what to she kept in her closet. He gave her the usual line right back: His unit, his rules. Still, he sometimes wished his girl had the chance to let herself be a bit more feminine than she did.

Her clothes and her attitude were her armor. He understood that. And the reasoning behind it. Some ways he appreciated that. He didn't need no one – in CPD or on the streets – looking at his daughter as some sort of sex object. She'd gotten treated like that as a little girl. Didn't deserve that then and the strong, independent woman she'd become sure didn't deserve to just be seen as that now. To be treated at that way. But didn't change the fact that sometimes he liked to see his girl all done up and in a dress. Thought fathers were supposed to feel that way. Get to see their little girls as the princess sometimes. Don't raise them as one but treat them as it sometimes. Make sure they get to that strong, independent, beautiful woman point. A bit of a paperbag princess. But Erin likely wouldn't mind that title too much. Probably suited her some.

"No word on this wedding yet?" O asked. "Or I just not getting invited?"

"Mmm," Voight acknowledged and scrubbed at his face for a moment before focusing his attention back on the rack. "Still haven't given me a date. Told them I'd give them a year. At this point, think they're likely goin' to take the whole thing before telling me shit."

Al made his own sound of acknowledgement.

O was likely wondering what the fuck was going on with the unit too. Too much fucking imbalance in the bullpen lately. Not good for the team. Could do without all the romantic drama. Lots of reasons it made the most sense to keep it in your pants when it came to work. Even more reasons to just not date cops. Voight could make a list of them himself.

Voight gave him a little glace from flipping through the rack. Looked like mostly men's and women's sizes. Was hoping for the child or youth price drop.

"Kids want to spend the Fourth on the beach," he muttered to get the reasoning for the stop back on track. "See them now. Get it now."

"Mmm …," Al acknowledged again.

"Either of the girls giving you the time of day for Independence Day?" Voight asked.

O gave a small shrug. "Think their plan is to be independent for Independence Day," he said.

Voight grunted. "Better not give them any pocket money for their exploits then."

O allowed a little sound. "Michelle's going to the beach too. With the boyfriend. Some other kids. Maybe I should get her one of these too."

"Better option than a bikini," Voight muttered.

Al shrugged. "Don't think she's much of a bikini girl."

Voight glanced at him. "Beach, boyfriend, Independence Day," he said and jutted his thumb to the back of the store. "Think I saw full body wetsuits in back."

Alvin gave him a look and pulled out one of the women's tops to examine more fully, though, he made an unimpressed face when he looked at the pricetag. Voight smiled a bit and flipped through a few more. This store had no fucking organization. The sizes weren't even grouped together. Looked more like a discount thrift store with his dingy organization. Given the fucking prices, he thought the kid standing behind the counter staring at her phone, could at least organize and categorize the merchandise a bit.

"Dodged a bullet with girls," Voight rasped at him. "Kids clothes are a pain in the ass. Camille handled all that shit."

"Yea …," O muttered. "Meredith too. Unless Lexi wanted me to hold bags and access to my wallet."

Voight allowed a grunt of acknowledgement too. Sounded familiar. Sometimes it didn't matter who your kids were – your parental experience was similar on some level. Girls, boys. Teenagers ten years ago or now. They were all just pains in your asses. Didn't change. They just became bigger and more vocal pains in your ass. The bigger the kid, the bigger the problems That's all it was.

"Justin in town for the long weekend?" Al asked.

Voight grunted. Was looking forward to having his grandson back so quick after their last visit. Just a few weeks between visits. That was a first. Though, didn't sound like it was going to be a last. Should be seeing them pretty regularly over the summer with their housing hunt. Then he'd have his son and grandson back in his life. At least weekly. It'd be good. Just had to hope these weekend visits over the summer would help mend some of the frayed ties. Seemed like that'd started a bit over E's birthday. Hadn't been prefect but at least there'd been some meaningful conversations and all the kids had managed to be in the same space without fighting. That was progress.

But Voight just heard O clatter a hanger on the rack and looked up to see him holding a toddler-sized full-body rash guard at him. Had a fucking crab dressed as a pirate on it. Cute.

"What size?"

"Twelve months," Alvin provided.

Voight just nodded and held out his arm. O passed it over to him, so he could take a look at the price. Wasn't bad. "Erin's always giving me shit about not buying him clothes," Voight said. "Camille would've wardrobed him."

"Yea, well, that's grandma's job, right?" O offered.

"Mmm …," Voight allowed.

Because it was true. There was a whole lot that Camille was missing out on. Not just with their kids but now with Henry. It was a slow realization that it wasn't just his kids who didn't have a mother. That their youngest was growing up without his mom. That it was his grandson who didn't have a grandma now too – to spoil him and dote on him and to talk to J and Olive about things about raising a child and being a parent in ways he didn't know how to talk to them about. Advice that he didn't know he had in the same way Camille – a mother – would. It hurt to know that H was missing out on that too. And that J and Olive were missing out on those conversations and support. He struggled enough to play Mr. Mom with Magoo. He didn't think he knew how to be Popa and Nana too. Didn't think he had the first clue how to be a Nana to the kid.

Popa was just going to have to do. But he supposed it meant that sometimes he found himself tapping into things he thought Camille would've wanted for H. Things she would've done for him or provided him or would've wanted to see and do with him. And Erin was right, she wouldn't have spent a fortune, she would've been practical, but she would've bought some of the cute little boy baby shit to put him in and take pictures – even though he'd outgrow it all in two minutes. But because they're only that age and that small for so long and you've got to enjoy it while it's there because it's gone way too quickly and you've got grumpy teenagers and then damaged adults on your hands. Not a cute little baby that you've still got all the hope in the world for – that you pour your everything and more into – because you just want things to be all right for them. For them to have every and any opportunity. And that you'd go to the ends of the earth and beyond – you'd die in the fucking dirt – to give them that.

He finally found a couple shirts that looked to be boys' sizes and flipped through a couple styles, deciding which one E would likely wear without comment or battle.

"So are these things in style right now?" O asked.

Voight shrugged, gazing at the rack. "Maybe today."

The rack clattered again and O held some other shirt up at him. A girls. "A teenaged girl would wear that?"

Voight shrugged again. "Sure, if the size fits."

Because who fucking knew. Didn't know if things in style today would be in style tomorrow. Didn't know how a teenager – girl or boy – would react to anything. It all shifted from day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute. Best you could do was make sure the size fit and then give them the opportunity to wear it. To live it. To be them. And then just fucking hope for the best and that you hadn't fucked up too bad.

Parenting was a way bigger crapshoot than real police work. Pristine planning didn't count for shit. You just did the best you could and let the chips fall as they may.


	112. Shopping Around

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 109 - One Size Don't Fit All.**

Jay let out a quiet annoyed sound and moved forward, away from the shopping cart, to where Eth was fumbling around in his attempt to haul a watermelon as big as him out of the fucking bin.

"You don't need one that big," Jay muttered at him, rolling it away from his hands.

Eth glared at him and reached to retrieve it again. He was tremoring like a motherfucker that evening. There was no way he was going to be able to muster up the strength and stability in that arm to lift up the thing.

"Yes, I do!" Eth chastised.

"No you don't," Jay put to him more bluntly and grabbed another one of the melons - a much smaller one – out of the crate.

"It's the Fourth of July! We need watermelon!" Eth huffed at him.

Jay held up the melon at him. "We've got watermelon."

"That's not the one I want!" Eth complained.

"It's the one you're getting," Jay said, depositing the fruit into the cart and gesturing at the end in his not so stutle message that Eth was to get back on the end of it so he could push them around the store and get this done as fast as possible. Ethan on his crutches would not make this effort as fast as possible. The kid was moving so fucking slowly. But likely because they'd just come from his physio and Eth was clearly exhausted, sore and whiney after that ordeal.

He wondered how the fuck he got stuck with this job. The how and why he agreed to it. But he knew the how and why of how and why he agreed to it. Erin asked. And he had her back. But how he got stuck with total house-husband duty overall? He didn't know. Considering a year ago he was hardly allowed to acknowledged Eth's existence. Hardly allowed to look at him. Now he was playing taxi service, health care babysitter and doing his fiancée's family's groceries. Seriously, what the fuck?

But he told himself that he'd known the deal when he got back together with Erin. Officially. He'd bought into it when he'd given her the ring. And that overall this was progress with Voight. If Voight even knew Erin had delegated these babysitting and family chores. Though, he must. He was the one who'd let her bring up Kim for the case. He had to know that they were still chasing the case. Trying to close the file. And that it was him who had Eth in his care that night.

Yet somehow that just pissed him off too. Eth wasn't his kid. Wasn't his brother. But he was doing this? He could think of a lot better things to be doing with his evening. The gym. Molly's. A documentary or two. Watch the game. Go for a run. Work on one of his own case files or go check in with some CIs. And it wasn't even that Eth was a bad kid. He was a nice enough kid. He liked Eth a lot. But he was a real fucking pain in the ass too – especially when he was in one of his whiney moods, which seemed to be more often than not since the fucking summer heat set in. He got it. The kid was in pain. He was flaring all over the place and his body just wanted to rest. It was giving out on him while Eth kept trying to push through rather than listening – just making himself more fucking fatigued and grouchy.

And, Jay thought most of the time he could deal with that. It didn't bother him too much. He was able to rationalize it and understand it. He could cut the kid some major slack – because he was just a kid and he did have a lot on his plate. But maybe it was this. Doing the preliminary round of grocery shopping for the long weekend – for fucking Justin's visit. That he was doing fucking son and big brother duties here for the real son and big brother who just didn't seem to give a fuck. Who likely wouldn't appreciate it and who would likely do something to fuck it up for everyone.

But Erin had asked. Voight hadn't put up a fuss. And Eth hadn't batted an eye when it was him who'd picked him up – like it was the most natural thing in the world. That shouldn't make him angry but some how it really did. Not at Eth, not at Erin, not at Voight. But at Justin. Even though whenever he brought up anything about Justin, Erin said not to get involved. And he should listen. Because the guy wasn't worth wasting that energy on. And if he got too worked up about it – ranted and vented too much – Erin always turned it into some fucking psychoanalysis about his own brother and his own father. Which was also a discussion he didn't want to get into. His father and Will had nothing to do with what a fuck up Justin was and how much he abandoned his family and how much he let his little brother down. How much he hurt his family and his parents. Over and over.

But apparently Eth wasn't quite strong enough at that point in the evening to put up a fight, so even though he gazed forlornly at the watermelon, he remounted the end of the cart so they could get moving.

"I don't think it's gonna be enough," Eth muttered, as his fingers gripped at the metal and Jay placed his elbows on the push bar to look at his phone.

"We'll make do," Jay muttered back as he examined the list Erin had sent him that Voight had sent her – or more likely dictated to her. He didn't think Voight did much texting – let alone using anything that resembled an app that could make and organize the lists or calendars for him and share them with everyone who seemed to have bought into helping him manage his family life and home life. Namely him and Erin. Again, not fucking Justin.

"Or we could just get a bigger one," Eth said again.

"We aren't getting a bigger one," Jay put more firmly and glanced up to see that Eth had pulled out his phone again too and was staring at it while gripping on the cart one-handed. "What are you doing?" he put to him even more firmly – his annoyance with the kid creeping up again.

"Checking to see if there are any Pokemon here," Eth said flatly, not even looking up.

"No," Jay shook his head and stuck his hand out. Eth glanced up at him – examining his hand, and giving him his big innocent eyes that worked way too well with Erin. But he wasn't Erin.

The kid had already had the fucking game open at the rehab centre and kept grabbing at it every chance he had during his physio. A total distraction and nearly a lost session until Jay had taken the phone away from him. Apparently he shouldn't have given it back to him when they left the RIC. He thought that maybe having it in the truck while they dealt with fucking rush hour traffic in getting back across town would mean that Eth would sit and listen to his music. Hadn't worked out that way. Kid had listened to music but it had been him fiddling with the sound system in the Bronco. The kid had total fucking ADD when it came to music. You couldn't listen to a song without him switching it less than thirty seconds into a song. No wonder Erin had adopted a strict "don't touch" policy with Eth and the turntable. He'd be scratching all the fucking vinyl with his fifteen-second attention threshold.

"You aren't supposed to have games on your phone," Jay told him sternly.

"It's not a game," Eth squinted at him. "It's an immersive reality."

Jay rolled his eyes and reached to yank the phone out of his hand – having to give it a good tug before Eth released it. "That's such fucking bullshit."

"We're supposed to be swearing less," Eth pressed at him.

Jay cocked an eyebrow at him. "Oh? Is that a rule you're going to listen to tonight?" Eth's squint turned to a glare and Jay shoved the kid's phone into his back pocket. "Rules are that phone is for communicating with your dad and sister and listening to your music. You're not supposed to be using other shit on it. Games go on the tablet with your dad's permission."

"It was free," Eth hissed.

"I don't fucking care, Ethan," Jay put more firmly. "The phone has rules. You want to get in shit about that – that's your business. But don't draw me into it."

Eth huffed at him. "It's just a game."

"A game that people are walking off cliffs with," he said sternly and pushed the cart forward, causing the kid to jar a bit and to really shift his attention to gripping on more tightly. "You don't need to become another one of these phone zombies living in some sort of alternate reality."

"IMMERSIVE," Eth corrected, "and you sound just like Dad."

"Yea, well," Jay muttered, glancing at his own phone and the list again, "sometimes you dad's rules make sense."

Eth huffed but shut up momentarily as Jay attempted to navigate around the grocery store. It was fucking busy with a lot of people trying to get their grocery shopping in before the weekend. He wasn't used to having to use a cart in a store. Grabbing a basket was usually enough. He wasn't sure he'd ever had to buy for a weekend for like seven people. He wasn't sure that he wanted to see what number rang up at check out. Erin had shoved some cash at him that he was sure Voight had shoved at her. But even though he didn't feel paying for this was anywhere near anything that fell within his realm of responsibility, he also felt weird about using a wad of cash provided by Voight. So he wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do when it came time to square up the bill. Or to try to give back the cash.

"We never shop at grocery stores," Eth said, casting him a look. "Dad says you should support the businesses and people in your community."

"I'm not going to like six stores to pick up this stuff," Jay said.

"Dad says food at stores that focus just on the one kind of food have better food," Eth said.

"Ethan, this is the most overpriced store in the city. It's going to be fine. It's all organic."

"It better not make me sick," Eth grumbled.

"It's not going to make you sick," Jay grumbled right back.

Jay parked the cart in front of meat aisle and took in some of the options. Eth stepped off the edge of the cart, and struggled to pull his crutches out of the basket. Jay glanced back at him and sighed and reached to do it for him.

"Do you really need these every time you get off the cart?" he muttered.

Eth cast him an upset look. "Yes," he yelped. "My legs are wobbly from physio."

Jay wouldn't argue that. He actually thought it had more to do with how hot it was, though. He'd been watching how the heat affected Eth the past few weeks. The first give away was the tremor in his hand starting to move from his fingers until he was shaking right up to his elbow. But then you could visibly see his gait change – even when he was using his crutches. His one foot just dragged more and more and he got slower and slower in his movement forward. You could just then see that flushing in his cheeks combined with that pallor in the rest of his face set in and his wording became more confused – sometimes even stuttered. At that point, if he hadn't admitted himself that the fatigued had hit – you knew it had and you had to stop him before he did himself in.

Still, even with that, he really wished Eth would stay on the end of the cart just to get this done. But the kid seemed used to grocery duty and wanted to be involved in the selection of every fucking item. He glanced around at the refrigerated meat.

"We get meat from the butcher," Eth said, casting him a rather concerned look.

"Not today we aren't," Jay said and looked at the list again.

"Jay! We can't get the meat for the barbecue from here! Look at it! It looks gross!"

Jay gestured further up the aisle. "There's a butcher right there," he said. "This is just how they package it here."

"It's gross!" Ethan pressed again.

Jay cast him another look and scrubbed at his face. He was really starting to understand why Voight did that so fucking much when he was dealing with Eth. The level of frustration balanced against the fact he was just a damaged kid and you were trying to keep your temper and annoyance in check.

All Jay could think was that he better fucking get laid tonight – because Erin fucking owed him for this one. This was more than taking one for the team. Loving her wasn't enough to make this worth it.

"OK …," Jay sighed after staring at the meat for a moment longer. "We'll stop at the butcher's—"

"Gene's," Eth provided bluntly.

"Yea, fine," Jay mumbled. Voight had a guy for everything. It made him so fucking annoyed that Erin had decided he had his own guy for everything too. Because it was clearly a thing for her. That was normal. And that normal had been established by "dad", which likely meant she saw "dad" in him, which was so unattractive on so many levels. But fuck it. Life was easier when you had a guy for certain things. Especially with the job they did. Erin had her own guys for her own things too.

But Jay was not going to go to the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker to get this done. He was going to be dropping his whole pay check as it was at this fucking place. Still, Eth had a point. Voight was going to bust his balls if he showed up with the meat from the wrong fucking place. Voight had some fucking paradigm about where his meat came from. And his bread. Fuck. Pretty much his everything. But again – not turning grocery shopping into some fucking road trip with them stopping at every fucking pullout for souvenir shopping and photo taking.

"But we're picking out the meat for tonight here," Jay pressed at the kid.

"Why?" Ethan asked.

"Because I'm going to take you home so you can start dinner and then I'll go to 'Gene's' and get the rest of this," Jay said and picked up some chicken legs to look at.

"I have to go with you so you get the right stuff," Ethan argued.

Jay cast him a look. "No," he said more sternly. "It is your night to make dinner. It's getting late. We are finishing shopping. You are going home to start dinner and then I'll go get the meat for the weekend."

Eth huffed and gazed at the meat. "No one is even going to be home for dinner," he said. "We aren't even home for dinner."

"You are going to eat dinner," Jay said with blunter force. "And your dad and sister will eat when they get home. It's your night to cook."

Eth squinted at him and then moved to get back on the cart, fumbling around with the crutched again to get them off his forearms. "I'll make eggs."

Jay shook his head, resisting the urge to give his face another scrub as he neared snapping at him. "You're going to make a real meal."

"It's my holiday!" Ethan argued. "It's the only week I get off before summer school and camp!"

"Does your dad get to take a holiday from cooking for you and taking care of you on his days off work?" he pushed at him.

Ethan huffed and looked away. Clearly indicating he knew the reality – the truth – behind that statement.

Truth was it wasn't just Voight who didn't get a day off. Him and Erin didn't get a whole lot of days off from it too. It seemed like when they weren't at work there was always some fucking element of Ethan drawn into their reality. Even if they weren't having to spend the day with him, they were dropping him off or picking him up at some appointment, or going and sitting at some game or practice, or getting a call from Voight asking if they could stop and pick up a prescription or some fucking ingredient if they were in the area. On the very few days where they completely managed to get a Voight-free and Ethan-free day, Erin usually still called one or both of them to check in on him. And Eth texted his sister all the fucking time. There really wasn't anything that truly was a Voight-free or Ethan-free day.

And it wasn't that Jay really minded. He knew he'd bought it. But lately it just felt like a little much. Maybe it was because it was summer. The weather was nicer. He'd prefer to be outside doing shit with his fiancée and not having her little brother tag along for everything. He would've liked to have booked some actual furlough and go away for a few days or even a fucking week. To get in the car and drive. Fuck. Maybe even all the way out to the coast. Get some oceanfront beach time rather than the lake. Get up to the cabin on a few of the days or weekends they weren't scheduled. Do some fishing and some canoeing and some sleeping in the hammock. Work on the truck. Look at some more places. Maybe even fucking buy something so he could start tinkering on some home renovation shit. Painting and putting in shelves and making the place their own. Especially if he had a yard. Even better if he got a garage so he could really work on some of this stuff. Get in some barbecuing and grilling and picnics in the park of his own – rather than Voight's. Some beach days with just Erin. Some sitting on patios rather than inside Molly's. Get out of the fucking city when some of the festivals and tourists and crowds rolled through. There was a whole lot he'd like to be doing with the summer weather. Things that didn't involve burying himself in work or playing babysitter to Ethan.

But maybe it was more that it was summer again. That he was acutely aware that it'd been a year. That a whole year had gone by since the kid had been home. Since him and Erin figured out their relationship again. Since they'd tried again. And somehow in those twelve months so much had fucking changed while in other ways so much had stayed the same. But it'd all been exhausting. Really, really exhausting. As much as he learned and gained from it – it'd been full of sacrifices too. And just now – Justin coming home for the long weekend, the ticking time bomb of knowing he'd be back in September and that was going to bring more change and chaos and disorientation to it all – it made him so annoyed.

That he'd done all this for Erin. And Ethan. And Voight. And then what he got out of it was being regulated to the sidelines on the long weekend and being lectured about keeping his cool and biting his tongue. And this underlying feeling that come September he was going to be the one mopping up messes. As Erin tried to keep the peace. While Ethan struggled to try to wrap his head around why his brother was the way he was. Because, let's be real, Justin wasn't suddenly going to be a quality older brother just because he was back in town. He wasn't going to be a great husband or father. He wasn't going to be the good son. He was just going to be back in the family's face, stirring the pot and needing managing. And Jay knew that he'd be the sounding board for Erin's hurt and anger and frustration with it all. That he'd be her shoulder to lean on. And even though Eth likely wouldn't say shit. That he'd try to hide his hurt and his confusion and his struggle to try to be someone to Justin – that Jay would see it there. Sitting on the surface so fucking visibly that it would pour off the kid. And then he'd step up and try to make it easier or better. To provide him with some sort of distraction. To remind him that he had value and was important to a whole lot of people and had a lot to offer – no matter what kind of ass wipe his brother was.

But for now all that was expected of him was to play nice. That was demanded of him. And he went along. He gritted and bore it as best he could – and then went to Dawson's gym and beat the shit out of a bag or got in the sparring ring and beat the shit out of some poor fool who'd agreed to fight him on the wrong day. Or he'd put in an extra five miles. Or ten. Beat the concrete with his feet. Or he'd just use more force than necessary with the next asshole on the job who more than deserved it – even if the brute force wasn't needed. He'd hold that gun. Put on his game face. And he'd do the fucking job.

Just like he was doing now. Family was a job too. Erin was family. Ethan was her family. He was important. He had a future – as damaged as it was. So put on the game face. Do it. Now. Get it done.

"You're making your family dinner," Jay said and pushed the cart forward a bit. "They'll appreciate coming home to a real meal."

"We could get take-out," Eth said, giving him a hopeful look.

"Sure. That cash coming out of which one of your allowance jars?" Jay raised an eyebrow at him.

"Didn't Dad give you money for groceries?"

"Your dad gave me money for groceries. Take-out is not groceries," Jay put back to him.

Eth made a noise and mumbled, "You're a lot less fun now that you and Erin are engaged."

"I'm less fun because you're trying to play me," Jay said. "We've been around long enough to know the drill, Eth."

The kid just made an unimpressed noise and slouched against the cart. "Are you all grouchy because you're mad you don't get to go to the cabin this weekend?"

Jay sighed and looked at him. "No," he said flatly.

"Because you had to spend last weekend at my tournament and now you don't get to go?" Eth rephrased his question.

"We didn't have to go to your tournament," Jay said seriously – giving him a firm look. "We wanted to. We had fun. We liked watching you play."

Eth examined him and gripped at the cart a bit more. "But now you aren't going to the cabin this weekend too and it's a long weekend," he provided.

Jay shrugged. "Oh, well."

"You could still go," Eth offered. "I don't care."

Jay gave him a thin smile. "That's not true." Because it so wasn't – and it wasn't going to happen.

Eth examined him a bit more. "Maybe you could go and I could come too?"

Jay allowed a little amused noise and shook his head, looking back to the fresh fish on display. "Eth, no one is going to the cabin this weekend. Your family spends holiday weekends together."

"Not all of them," Eth tried. "Not like President's Day or Memorial Day and stuff."

Jay gave him a patronizing look. "Independence Day is a little different."

"Not really," Eth offered. "It's not like Christmas or Thanksgiving or anything."

"Ethan," Jay said more firmly. "Your family has traditions for the Fourth. End of story."

"But it's going to be another one of these stupid 'Henry's first' things but then it's going to suck because he's a baby and can't do anything. Like the beach."

"Henry can go to the beach," Jay muttered and picked up some trout fillets to take a look at.

"Not for long," Eth argued.

He cast him a serious look. "Ethan, you can't handle being out in the sun and the crowds for that long either."

"It's not even going to be that crowded!" Eth pressed back. "Dad says we aren't going to the beach on the Fourth because it will be too busy and that we have to go to one of the ones that has like a park and shade and a playground and stuff. Not our usual beach."

Jay shrugged. "Sounds fine to me." He held the fish at Ethan. "How about fish tonight? That's easy."

"I don't eat fish," Eth put to him but again stumbled off the cart to look at the options.

Jay raised his eyebrow. "Ethan, you eat fish. I've watched you eat fish."

"Fish I've caught. Who knows where this has come from."

"It's trout," Jay said. "It came from the lake." Ethan gave him an unimpressed look. "We'll do some foil packs," Jay offered, adding the fish to the cart. "Throw them on the grill. It will be like camping. You'll like them."

"Dad doesn't like me using the grill without him there."

"I'll be there," Jay muttered starting to push the cart forward but Eth didn't move.

"He doesn't like people using his grill at all," Eth added but leaned into the bin and pulled out another option.

"He'll get over it," Jay said.

"This one," Eth said, catching up and retrieving the trout and dropping a new package into the cart.

Jay leaned over and looked at it. "Tilapia?" He shrugged. "OK. Get another pack. That's not enough for all of us."

Eth diligently listened and then finally got back on the end of the cart so they could get the show moving.

"Dad says we aren't going to fireworks too," Eth told him. "Because of Henry."

Jay rolled his eyes. This had been an ongoing conversation all week. "Taking an eleven-month-old baby to fireworks isn't bright, Eth. He'll be tired. It's loud. It will scare him. He'll cry. That will suck for everyone."

"What's the Fourth of July without FIREWORKS?" Eth demanded.

"Someone will take you to the fireworks," Jay put firmly.

"I want my dad to take me to the fireworks," Eth said.

"Then tell him that and your dad will take you to the fireworks."

"But you and Erin won't come?" he asked.

Jay sighed and shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. We haven't talked about it. We'll see how the weekend goes."

Eth examined him. "You think this weekend is going to suck too, don't you?"

"No," Jay said. He wasn't entirely lying but he wasn't going to get into details with the kid. A thirteen-year-old didn't need to know his feelings about his brother or the family dynamic. And Erin would likely at least try to castrate him if he ever did give his opinion on any of it to Ethan. That'd be crossing a clearly defined line.

Eth gripped more at the cart. "Are you going to bring the truck on the weekend?"

Jay shrugged. "I don't know, Eth. I guess it depends on if me and Erin stay at my place or her place the night before."

"The Bronco is better for the beach," Eth said. "I can ride with you guys."

"Great …," Jay allowed.

"Justin will be jealous of your truck. Him and Olive have a total like … soccer mom car now even though H isn't old enough to do anything yet," Eth said. Jay made a sound that mildly indicated he was listening while he worked at adding some eggs to the cart and searching out the only brand of coconut milk that Eth would drink that always seemed impossible to find. This was likely part of the reason Voight went sixty-million places on his grocery runs. Nothing that Ethan could eat or would eat could be found all in one spot. "Are you going to swim?"

"Likely," Jay muttered. "It's supposed to be hot. It's the beach."

"That will make J mean too. Because you're probably way stronger than him," Eth said.

Jay cast him a look from his search through the milk cartons. "Your brother made it through boot camp. He's on base. He's doing PT every day. He'll be doing fine in the strength department." He grabbed a carton of unsweetened almond milk and showed it to the kid. "This is what we have in Erin's fridge. Will you drink it?" Eth made a gag face and shook his head. "Well, I don't see your coconut milk," Jay muttered.

"Because we're in the wrong store," Ethan said firmly and then added. "But Justin's way hairier than you. So's dad."

Jay made an amused sound and looked back to the kid. "That's got nothing to do with muscle mass. That's just genetics."

"Did you have delayed puberty too?" Eth asked abruptly.

Jay made a noise and put the almond milk in the cart even though Eth made another gagging sound at it. But he figured it'd be better to have something in the house rather than nothing if Voight didn't get a chance to go wherever he went to get the fucking coconut milk before the weekend.

"Ethan," he said firmly, "everyone keeps telling you this. It's not called delayed puberty until you're like sixteen. You're fine."

"So did you?" the kid asked again.

"No," Jay said firmly. "I didn't have delayed puberty."

"You just didn't grow hair?"

Jay sighed and pushed the cart away from the two women in the diary aisle that were now casting them odd looks. He couldn't tell if they were amused or horrified. But he knew he was fucking annoyed that they were eavesdropping and looking at Eth.

"Some guys just aren't as hairy as other guys," Jay said. "And we're in public, bud. So watch the filter, OK?"

Eth gripped at the cart and eyed him. "You can't talk about puberty in public?"

"Just … ," Jay sighed and shook his head. "We don't need to be having this conversation in the middle of a grocery store."

Eth gazed at him. That broken look where you knew that no matter how fucking hard the kid tried, he was always going to be missing a few pieces in the puzzle. He was a good kid. A smart kid. A bright kid. A nice kid. He was just damaged and he was never going to quite all be there. He wasn't ever going to quite fit the social norms. And Jay got that was hard. But just because someone was broken didn't mean you avoided them. Didn't mean you cast them aside like some piece of trash. That you tried not to look at them. That you tried to fix them. There wasn't anything to fix. It just was what it was. Trying to fix them just made it less normal and harder for everyone. You had to learn how to live with it. Work within it.

"Is Erin going to swim?" Eth asked, apparently accepting that talking about chest hair and puberty and the bodies of the three adult men in his life wasn't acceptable public conversation – at least not the levels he was having it.

"Likely," Jay allowed.

"She going to wear her swimsuit or bikini?" Eth asked.

"Ethan, I have no idea. I'm not in charge of Erin's wardrobe. She'll wear what she wants."

The truth was that he would prefer if she'd wear a bikini – because he liked the view. But he also knew that she was less likely to wear a bikini at a family outing with Voight and her little brother. Especially since Eth would likely want people roughhousing with him in the water or tossing a ball or Frisbee around with him in the sand. Beyond that Jay figured she might be on her period or something. She'd been pretty uninterested in any touching the past few days. So if she wasn't done that by the weekend, he doubted she was super excited about a family beach day either and would be even more unexcited about putting on a bikini.

At least he hoped it was just her period and not her having some sort of … internal struggle about something or some memory or he did something to trigger her and she just wasn't telling him. Sometimes they really sucked about talking about that stuff. Mostly because he so didn't want to open the doors to talk about any of it. He'd already let himself open them a crack and it so fucking felt like the floodwaters were now pressing against that opening and he just didn't want to go there. It didn't matter that it was her he'd be talking to. He just couldn't manage getting into that headspace and still going to work each day without filling out fucking kill shot paperwork weekly and ending up in the Ivory Tower in front of a board and likely sent for repeated psych examines and therapy that might result in him fucking benched again. Or out of a job. And he just couldn't handle that either. So it was best not to revisit the past. Living in the past didn't get you anywhere. Coping with the now – or burying yourself in so much other shit that you were distracted from the now – was easier.

Maybe Ethan's fucking 'immersive reality' games weren't such a bad idea. Though, fucking videogames hadn't been so good to him in the past either. So it was probably another thing he shouldn't be revisiting. Unless it was to play Star Wars Lego or Forza or something just as juvenile on the thing – with Eth.

"Because I don't think Olive will wear a swimsuit," Eth said.

Jay gave him a firm look. "Olive can wear whatever she wants too," he said sternly. "And she's likely going to want to go into the water with Henry. You better use your fucking filter Ethan and not say anything that makes her feel uncomfortable."

Eth squinted at him. "I just meant that Justin might not like if Erin is wearing a bikini around Olive."

"Both of them can wear whatever they want," Jay said. "And if anyone – you and Justin included – says anything that makes either of them uncomfortable about that, they're going to be dealing with me."

Eth eyed him carefully. "Olive keeps telling me that swimming is really good for M.S.," he said.

"Your physical therapist keeps telling you that too," Jay muttered, as he examined the yogurt. They also did not appear to have the fucking almond milk yogurt that Eth ate. It was pissing him off. He shot Erin off a text asking where the fuck Voight bought any of this crap.

"Yea. So maybe Olive will try to swim with me," Eth said.

Jay shrugged. "Yea, maybe."

"The physical therapist says that I should try para-triathlon," Ethan said.

Jay picked up one of the coconut milk yogurts instead to examine. Why did the kid like coconut milk and not almond milk? But almond yogurt and not coconut yogurt? It didn't make sense.

"You've got baseball, summer school and camp this summer—"

"And vacation and the cabin," Eth interrupted.

Jay gave him a glance from looking at the ingredients. "Yea, exactly. You don't have the time or energy to manage triathlon too."

"We get to try some of the events at the RIC camp," Eth said.

"There you go," Jay said. "So if you like it maybe you can do it next summer rather than baseball."

"I'm not going to like it more than baseball," Eth said firmly and then pointed. "Blueberry."

Jay glanced at him and immediately grabbed the flavor the kid at least seemed willing to try. Mission partially accomplished.

"I can't wait to go kayaking at camp," Eth said. "Do you have a kayak at your cabin?"

"Canoe," Jay said and pumped the cart a couple times, the kid casting him a smile, before he started to move it forward again.

"We could fish in the canoe," Eth said.

Jay nodded. "Yea, we can," he agreed.

"So when are you taking me to the cabin like you promised?"

Jay shrugged. "Me and Erin haven't really nailed down a date yet. We'll get you there. Don't worry."

"This summer, though, right?"

He allowed another small shrug, as he rounded the corner of the store to start going up and down the processed food aisles. He'd hoped to just stick the exterior but Erin had some other crap on the list. So now that they'd managed meat, produce and dairy, he was going to have to wade into the junk and hope Eth didn't put up too much of a fuss and meltdown about what he could and couldn't have – and what he actually wanted.

"We've got to work around your homework and your baseball and our schedule's, bud," Jay said. "If we don't get there this summer, we'll take you for a weekend in September or October. It'll still be nice."

Eth let out a little sigh at that and stepped off the cart to examine the ice cream in the freezer aisle. Jay gave him a warning look but the kid didn't budge.

"I have to read two whole books in summer school," Eth said as he stared at the fogged glass. "One of them has to be off this list. They all look so boring and so long."

"But you'll do it because you don't want to repeat Seventh Grade," Jay put flatly.

"But that's not even all the homework I'm going to have," Eth near whined at him. "There's going to be math and a SES project too and likely STEM stuff. Like everything!"

Jay shrugged. "And you'll do it because you don't want to repeat Seventh Grade," he repeated again.

Him and Erin had already discussed how much July was going to suck for all of them because of this summer school thing. It was going to be fucking hell dragging Eth through the homework. Jay knew Voight dealt with the vast majority of it. He was a fucking hard-ass about it. A drill sergeant. But so fucking patient about it too. But it didn't mean that him and Erin didn't get stuck carrying part of the load. Jay got stuck helping with a lot of the math. Erin more dealt with him organizing his projects and getting them printed up and glued on poster board and colored in. And she was really fucking good at standing over Ethan and telling him off. But with her it was a fine line before she got so annoyed she took over, which just pissed Hank off. Voight seemed to be able to sit at the dining room table for hours with the kid and just glare at him and patiently hold his finger under each word and sentence and paragraph without even blinking. To go over every answer. To slowly let the kid work it out on his own while giving him the moral support of just being there and indicating he knew he could do it in his own sweet time. And Eth usually did. It was just his own sweet time sometimes was hours and hours. Which sounded like a really shitty way to spend a summer, in Jay's opinion.

"Do you think my Rubix cube robot might count as my STEM project? If I have a STEM project."

"Don't know. Have to ask," Jay said and reached to nudge the kid's shoulder a bit to get him moving but he only moved a few feet before he spotted the coconut milk ice cream and stared at it. Eth reached and open the door. "Ethan, no," he chastised.

Eth cast him a look over his shoulder. "Dad got me coconut ice cream for my birthday."

"That's not the brand he had," Jay said. "These likely have sugar or something in them."

Eth reached and grabbed a little container and showed it to him. "It says no sugar," he said.

Jay sighed and grabbed it from him, looking at the ingredients. "Bud, it has all kinds of crap in it. No. Put it back."

Eth sighed heavily but put in back in the freezer. "It's not Fourth of July without ice cream either," he said dejectedly.

"You can ask your dad where he got the ice cream," Jay said. "Maybe he can pick up another container for you."

Ethan let out another sigh. "He said it had to be special ordered and that it's just a treat."

Jay shrugged. "Then there's your answer."

Eth gave him an unimpressed look and opened the next door. "What about these?" he asked and pulled out some ice cream bars.

Jay let out a small annoyed sound but took the box and examined the ingredients again as well as the nutritional breakdown. He made a little noise but reached to retrieve his phone, leaning his elbows against the cart, as he listened to it ring, feeling Eth's hopeful on him. It ran so many times that he was pretty sure that Voight wasn't going to pick up but then his gravel was in his ear.

Jay skipped pleasantries – because they had an unstated agreement that they kept their talks to the point.

"Where's agave nectar fall in Eth's diet? He's got some ice cream bars here he wants," Jay put simply and listened. "…Coconut milk. … Nah. It's just the coconut milk and the agave. … Breaks down to 12 grams per bar. … OK. … He was wanting corn on the cob too—"

"Nachos!" Ethan added firmly and Jay cast him a look and a little nod to try to get him to shut up.

"… Yea. OK. … What about corn chips?" Jay looked down into the cart. "Don't think that was on Erin's list. … Yea. Sure."

He put the phone back in his pocket and handed the box back to Eth, giving him a little nod. "Pick one," he said.

Eth's face lit up and he pulled open the freezer door again to gaze at the few kinds of the bars. "Can I get strawberry and chocolate?" he asked hopefully.

"Did I say pick two?" Jay put back to him.

Eth huffed and grumbled, "There's only four in a box." But he went back to his concentrated examination of the options until he finally picked on and handed it out to Jay. "Mom liked strawberries and I won't be allowed strawberry shortcake this year."

Jay took the box but gestured in the box. "We've got strawberries," he said. "Erin's got coconut cream on the list. It will be close."

"Not the same," Eth said.

Jay gazed into the cart and then pointed a bit farther up the freezer aisle. "We can get some frozen strawberries and make you some smoothies. You want to get chocolate?"

Eth examined the box carefully – reconsidering his decision but then shook his head. "I want to make pineapple smoothies this week."

Jay shrugged. "OK," he allowed and put the strawberry ice cream bars in the cart. Kid's decision wasn't going to argue with him. He rocked the cart a bit to encourage Eth to get back on but only pushed it up to the end of the aisle to the frozen fruit anyways to toss in a couple bags of the berries that Erin or Voight had put on the list – none of which were pineapple. But they already had a pineapple and bananas from the produce section anyway.

"What'd Dad say about nachos?" Eth asked as Jay returned to the cart.

"That he doesn't want you eating corn," Jay put flatly and pushed the cart again.

"That's not fair," Ethan complained.

Jay shrugged. "Take it up with him."

Eth huffed, as they started down the next aisle, retrieving some cocoa powder and the almond-hazelnut butter that Jay had witnessed the kid eat right out of the jar and Voight almost seemed to condone it, clearly just wanting the kid to get some fats and protein into him. Ethan gazed in the cart as each item landed in the bottom of the basket.

"It's kind of weird you know this stuff," E said suddenly.

Jay glanced at him as he pushed the cart into the next aisle. Voight had said to look for these crackers that Eth liked. They looked and supposedly tasted like tortilla chips. The kid could eat a whole box in one sitting if you put them in front of him with a bowl of salsa or guacamole. Erin would undoubtedly make the kid guacamole. She made a pretty good guacamole for a woman who claimed she didn't know how to cook. Jay was learning that was mostly just an excuse not to have to cook. When she cooked at Voight's house – for Ethan – she was fine. It was pretty clear that Voight and his wife had schooled her on some more than basic cooking skills and recipes. She just preferred to keep it simple. Jay could appreciate it that. Cooking for one sucked. It was easy to get into the happy of microwave meals and chocolate bars and take-out. He'd just put a lot of effort into avoiding that. But Erin would've grown up with simplicity, cheap and no cook options being the only options most of the time. Some times those kinds of foundational, ingrained habits were hard to beat out of yourself even when you were provided with the tools to do better. Stress and environment made it pretty easy to fall back onto old habits. They died hard.

"What stuff?" Jay asked, as he scanned the boxes and then held up one at Eth. "These the ones you like?"

Eth nodded but pointed at the box as it landed in the cart. "That stuff. J doesn't know that stuff."

Jay was really fucking aware that Justin didn't know that stuff. He also was at the point that he doubted that Justin was going to put much effort into learning any of this stuff when he did arrive in the city. He wasn't creating any delusion for himself that suddenly taking care of Eth was going to be divided between three camps. That Justin was suddenly going to be super involved and interested in spending time with his brother and helping the family and learning about how to cope with a life-long chronic and degenerative illness. That he'd suddenly be ready to accept that reality. He knew Erin and Voight were hoping out hope about that. But they kind of had to. That was part of what being family was. You usually gave them the benefit of the doubt. Though, Jay had learned there reached a point that some people – even family – just beat that doubt out of you. They didn't deserve that benefit anymore. And that was something you just needed to accept to protect yourself and to avoid more disappointment.

Justin wasn't suddenly going to be more helpful or less of a pain in the ass. If anything he was just going to be another mouth to feed when Voight did have people over for a 'family' dinner. A loud mouth that they all just sat there silently and listened to while he did some verbal masturbation at the dinner table. The only thing Justin would be doing would be coming up with new excuses to give the family. That he was bogged down with school. That reservist weekends and training exercises were keeping him busy. That he had shit to do at home with Olive and the baby. That he had his own friends and connections he wanted to spend time with. That this and that and the other thing needed to be done and he just couldn't make time for Eth. He couldn't help out his dad and sister who'd done more than a little to give him more than one hand up over the years.

Olive would get the benefit of the doubt. Jay could already see she was going to try. But Eth had some walls up with her. He was closed off and awkward around her. A little mistrusting. Sometimes he was outright rude. He wasn't himself. But Olive would still likely try to help as much as anyone let her. But the poor girl would be caught in the net of her dick wad husband. And then she had a baby and her own house to keep and family to manage. Not to mention, it actually did sound like she was trying to get her life in order and get ahead. That she had real fucking plans to try to better herself. To get a job. To farther her education. Made Jay wonder what the hell she saw in Justin. How the hell she'd ever gotten mixed up with him in the first place. But he supposed everyone made a few shitty choices when it came to the bedroom in their lifetime. She'd just gotten into the shitty situation where her choice had ended up with a lifelong responsibility which would mean she'd always be connected to Justin Voight in some capacity.

Though, Jay might get on board with placing some bets on how long that relationship might actually last in the long run. He figured it probably wouldn't make it past five years. Especially now that Justin was set up to be with the military long-term. He didn't get the impression that Olive was loving being an army wife – and Justin hadn't even been deployed yet for her to get a real taste of what all that meant. Beyond that the two of them just seemed on such different pages and so totally different people. It was hard to imagine them spending a lifetime together. Olive could do better. And he didn't even like Olive that much. He just liked her comparatively better than Justin.

"Justin doesn't live here," was all Jay provided, though. Because again – Erin would rip into him if he ever really provided Eth with his real opinion on his brother. At least at this age. "What salsa do you want?" Jay asked, gesturing at the options. Though, he knew he was going to have to read the ingredient lists on whatever one the kid picked too. Still, Eth seemed happy to be given the option to actually pick something and stepped off the cart. Though, he was clearly starting to wane. He didn't grab for his crutches and kept a hand on the cart to use as support as he looked at his choices.

"Do you like being a big brother?" Eth asked, asked as he picked up a jar of green salsa and looked at it while scanning the rest of the shelf.

"Will's older," Jay muttered, as he picked up another jar to start scanning the ingredient lists.

"But, I mean, after you and Erin finally get married, you'll be kind of like a big brother. Or brother-in-law?"

Jay made a little sound and gave the kid a smile, reaching to pull the rim of his hat up and down a bit before screwing it slightly off to the side. "Yea," he allowed. "I like that."

Eth gave him a shy smile and then looked back to his jar, placing it back on the shelf and grabbing a mango salsa to look at instead. "Me too," he said quietly and then gave him another nervous glance. "Erin says we can't go and pick out my clothes for the wedding until you pick yours. Because she said the colors and tie should match."

"Mmm …," Jay allowed and grabbed a jar of the peach to look at next. So far he wasn't seeing anything that had apple cider vinegar in it, which might be a problem or he might just say fuck it and let the kid get whatever he wanted.

"So when are you going to do that?" Eth asked.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess after we pick a date. Maybe after Erin picks her dress."

"When's that going to be?" Eth asked.

Jay gave him a look and knocked the rim on his hat up a bit again so he could see his eyes. "When we're ready."

"But if you aren't ready why'd you get engaged?"

"Because we love each other," he mumbled and looked back at the jar in his hand. This was another conversation he didn't want to get into with the kid.

He wished that Erin would pick a date a bit faster too. But she definitely wanted to wait it out as long as possible before firming up on anything. Give them both as much time in Intelligence as they could muster. He got it. He didn't really want to leave Intelligence either but he'd pretty much come to accept that it was going to be him who would be leaving. Any conversation they had about it that was pretty much the conclusion they'd come to. It just made more sense. In a lot of ways. Sucked, though, because he didn't really want to go to Narcotics. He didn't want to get into any sort of situation where he was having to go undercover for weeks or months on end really. Not regularly. He knew what that kind of lifestyle could do to a family. So Vice was probably a shitty idea. He wasn't sure that Gangs was his thing, even though that was a pretty important job in the city. Maybe Homicide but there was a darkness there that he wasn't sure he wanted to wade into. So it was likely going to be Narcotics he wanted up at. Though, he'd been planning with the idea of trying to transfer into the Special Investigations Group. He could see maybe doing OK in Youth Investigative Division, though, Erin had some opinions on that idea. So maybe the Fugitive Apprehension team or Violent Crimes Task Force. At least there were some options.

But the more frustrating part about it all was that whenever they started talking about their wedding they really just ended up talking about their careers. He completely agreed with Erin that their career paths were important. That in their thirties now, they should be getting pretty set on their trajectory, especially if they wanted to start a family in the next three to five years or so. But that didn't change the fact that he just kind of really wanted to fucking marry her. He hadn't given her his mom's ring –his grandmother's ring – just because.

"Because Erin said that Kim and Adam broke up because they weren't ready even though they were engaged," Eth said.

Jay gave him a look and clattered his jar back on the shelf. "That the one you want?" he asked of the salsa, Eth had in his hand. The kid just shrugged at him. But Jay took it and dumped it in the cart without even bothering to look at the ingredients.

He wasn't going to get into a discussion with Eth about Burgess and Ruzek. Him and Erin weren't even comparable to them. It was clear from the get that those two wouldn't last. It was fucking retarded. If he'd been a betting man, he would've made a killing because he saw that demise from a mile away. And he'd pretty much seen this love triangle and its fall out too. He liked Kim but she made really fucking stupid choices about relationships. And she didn't seem to think about her career at all in terms of making them. And she was lucky that Platt and Voight liked her or at this point her dumbass choices should've really bitten her in the ass. Hard. So maybe Erin was right. Their wedding discussion did need to include a whole lot of career discussion too.

Jay gestured impatiently for Eth to get back on the cart and he reluctantly did but eyed him nervously. "I hope you don't break up—"

"Ethan," Jay put firmly, "we aren't breaking up. We're fine. We just aren't rushing into the wedding."

Eth kept gazing at him, and Jay started to navigate around the people in the store faster. He was at the point he just wanted to get the kid home. Get him set on making dinner and then let him take his screentime. Shut him up.

"That's OK," Eth finally said. "My mom and dad didn't rush either. They knew each other forever and Dad didn't even propose until after Mom was done her school stuff because he wanted her to finish it before they got married and stuff."

"Mmm …," Jay allowed, giving the list a cursory scan again. He thought they were just about done. Just needed to find the coconut water and grab a pack of brown rice pasta to have in the house.

"Erin says that Justin and Olive rushed their wedding because she was pregnant and that's not how most people get married," Eth provide like some sort of mea culpa.

"Yea, well …," Jay allowed because what more could he say about that without getting in shit too.

"Dad says too that Mom is one of the best people he's known his whole life. So she was always worth waiting for," Eth provided.

Jay allowed the kid a thin smile at that – accepting his efforts at trying to smooth things over.

It was also so weird to hear things about Voight and his wife. The level of intimacy of their relationship just wasn't something he'd grown up around. He wasn't sure it was something he'd really known existed or could be real. Though, he was starting to get it - more than get it – with Erin. He could understand where the guy was coming from.

"Erin's one of my best people too," Eth said. "She's one of yours too, right?"

Jay let out quiet amused sound. "Yea," he agreed.

"Yea," Eth nodded. "She's pretty good."

"Yea, pretty good," Jay smiled a bit more at the kid.

"Erin says I'm one of her best too," Eth said. "But that I'm a pain in the ass."

Jay suppressed a laugh. The kid was beyond a pain the ass but he could also see how he could get on the 'best people' list. He was a pain in the ass. He was a lot of work. He was frustrating. He lacked a filter. But most of the time, he was worth it. Getting to develop a relationship with him too was worth it. The relationship it'd allowed him to develop more deeply with Erin was worth it.

So he just reached and tugged at his ball cap's rim again. "Yea, Eth, you're a real pain the ass," he agreed.

"That's OK," he shrugged. "That says that too. And he says it about Erin and Justin and Mom too. We're pains in the ass but we're the best and he loves us anyways."

"Mmm …," Jay allowed. "Maybe he's got a point."

Because maybe he did. As much as he hated to admit it, there were a lot of things that Voight ultimately had a point on. And usually a good one. Even if he was doing it his way. His own way. A way Jay might not entirely agree with.

But one thing he'd definitely learned from Voight was that when it came to being a husband and a father – he usually had valid point. That he usually had some things to teach him. Show him. Advice to give him. Even if he didn't entirely want it. But it was a hell of a lot better advice and example than Jay had ever grown up with. So sometimes it was worth taking the point. Listening. Learning. Both.

And maybe he'd end up with a family of his own that was as much of an awesomely, frustrating pain in the ass as Ethan. And that didn't seem like the worst thing at all. In fact, maybe it seemed pretty damn good.

He'd like to get there. To make the time. The space.

To have that.

Some day.

Maybe sooner than later. Like now.


	113. Breakfast Smoothie

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 110 - Shopping Around**

"So Dad gave me extra allowance for the week – since it was my holiday. Twenty dollars. So that's like almost two weeks allowance," Magoo continued in his rapid fire chatter to Olive – and Voight supposed Henry, though he didn't think the little man cared to much what his uncle was going on about. Good habit to start. Poor H was likely going to have to learn to just take a lot of the blabber that came out of his uncle's mouth with a bit of a grain of salt. Learn how to make listening noises like the rest of them. Though, Hank got the impression that Olive was trying to make more than listening noises to the kid. Actually almost trying to be involved in the conversation. She was likely almost happy the kid was even talking to her since he usually gave her a bit of breadth.

"Oh, yeah? So what'd you do?" Olive asked.

Ethan shrugged. "Well, sorta lots. I went to Movies in the Park with my friends and a sleepover. But then the week was kinda weird because Dad doesn't like me being home alone or at other people's houses if their parents aren't home."

"Oh …," Olive allowed and Voight gave another glance over from where he was working on getting the ribs seasoned to through on the grill with the smoker boxes for the day.

"Yea, so some days I had to just go and sit at the District and Dad didn't even let me come upstairs much because he said I was being too much of a distraction for everyone. Only Mouse works upstairs now so I couldn't go sit downstairs with him in the tech and equipment room and Dad said I'm not allowed to sit in that room myself either. So I basically had to just sit with Trudy and she says I'm old enough to be of use now so she kept making me do stuff and kept telling me I have bad penmanship. Whatever that is. And even though she was making me do stuff, I didn't get paid or anything."

"Ethan," Hank barked at him. "You were sorting mail. Trudy's not paying you for that. She's done lots of nice things for you. Watching you ain't no job she's getting paid for either."

Olive gave him a thin smile at that but Magoo just huffed and looked back to the woman. "I had ball practice one night and we played a game another night. And I had physio too and other stuff with the therapist people. But mostly when I didn't have to go to District, I got to go to the boxing gym and hang out with Michelle. But she had a boyfriend now. And everyone in the junior league is all just talking about the Olympics and so that's kind of boring even though Antonio knows lots about the Olympics since he competed like forever ago. But that's still kind of cool. But it's not cool right now since no one from the gym is going to Rio but they still all want to talk about it and like how they think they'll go next time. So that's dumb. But we did other stuff a bit. Like we went to a movie."

"What movie?" Olive interrupted.

He looked up at her from his slurping on his breakfast protein smoothie that he'd mastered mumbling around the straw and motor-mouthing at the same time.

"Independence Day," Eth said. "Michelle and Ian – that's her boyfriend – they wanted to see something else. But Dad said it wasn't allowed because it was rated like PG-13," he said and cast him a disgusted look.

"They wanted to see the Conjuring," Hank directed the across the room at Olive, who allowed him a nod as she attempted to feed H some of the pineapple, banana, coconut concoction that Magoo had blended up that morning. So he put to his soon, "It was rated R. And you don't do well with horror movies."

"Michelle said the first one it wasn't even that scary," Ethan spat indignantly. "But Dad talked to Uncle Al so he'd talk to Michelle and basically made it so we'd all get in trouble if we went. So we had to go to Independence Day even though none of us wanted to see it."

"Doesn't make much sense to spend money on a movie you don't want to see," Voight provided.

"The only other thing was Finding Dory!" Ethan spat again to get a small amused sound out of Olive, which caused Magoo to give her a confused look. "None of us wanted to see that. It's for kids."

"How old are Michelle and Ian?" Olive asked.

"Fifteen," Ethan provided. She nodded and he apparently took that as an invitation to continue with his rambling rendition of his just over a week-break between the end of the school year and the start of his summer school. "And we went bowling one afternoon. Some other kids came from the gym and some of Michelle's friends too. They said I was cute. But Michelle said I don't have a chance with them since I'm not in high school and that saying cute is just them trying to be nice about me acting weird because she says I basically act like a weirdo little freak all the time—"

"She doesn't say that to you," Voight interjected.

Ethan shrugged. "Sure she does," he allowed. He grunted and rolled his eyes. He'd have to have a talk with the kid – and possibly Alvin about that. "She says she's allowed to say it since she's basically my cousin and since she's my friend and likes me even though I'm a weirdo little freak."

"Ethan, don't talk about yourself that way," Voight put to him firmly.

His kid glanced at him again. "I don't care she says it."

"I care she says it and I don't want you talking that way – about yourself or anyone else," Voight put to him even more sternly.

Eth let out another huff and looked back to Olive taking another long sip out of his shake that he really could be eating with a spoon he'd gotten it so thick. Olive it was feeding it to the baby with a spoon, taking some bites of her own between Henry's half-hearted interest in the breakfast option.

"Well, I got a strike bowling," Ethan said. "And it was pretty fun. Other than that me and Dad went to the Cubs on Wednesday but they were just playing the Cardinals and they lost. So that sucked."

"Oh yeah?" Olive tried to get a word in edgewise again. "Have you used any of the coupons you got from Erin and Jay?"

Ethan nodded hard. "Yea! I used the videogame one. I got Ghostbusters because my baseball friend – Eva – she likes playing too and we can play online. But I'm still playing the game you and Justin gave me a lot too. It's basically the only one Jay wants to play when he's over. But Dad says that I'm real close to losing all my screen-time privileges because I'm abusing them and summer school starts next week and I need to concentrate on that. So that's going to make things even more sucky. He's already put stupid timers on like everything."

"Wouldn't have to do that if you weren't abusing your privileges," Voight put to him directly. Eth huffed again but the kid didn't likely realize just how close he was to completely losing his privileges. Couldn't have him buried in the fucking games after school started and he wasn't about to engage in a battle of the wills with a thirteen year old about videogames. He didn't want to follow the rules – he'd just lose his privileges. Period.

"Yea, well, I didn't get to use the other half of the coupon because it gives me a sleepover at Erin's with playing videogames as much as I want without any screentime rules. But Erin was busy and working late a lot this week and says she doesn't want to do a sleepover on a work night. But I really wanted the game so I just used the coupon now."

"Oh … well … maybe she'll let you use the other part of the coupon later?" Olive suggested.

"Yea, she better or else that will suck too," Ethan nodded.

Hank just shook his head where he was working at the counter. Kid was full of some piss and vinegar today. Hyped up about his brother and his nephew and Olive being home for the weekend. Hyped up about it being the long weekend and all his Fourth of July plans he had in the works. Hyped up about with all his anxious energy about summer school starting up on Tuesday. Spouting a whole lot of negativity about that.

"Maybe you'll both have time to do it later this summer," Olive offered.

"Yea, hopefully, but after summer school starts, Dad likely won't let me do it on a school night either."

"When's summer school start?" Olive asked.

"Tuesday," Ethan lamented. "It's going to suck so bad too. "I'm going to have to read so much and work so hard and school is just really hard." Olive made a sympathetic sound, which prompted E to keep going. "Dad had to go in to talk to them since I'm IEP, though, and he says I'm going to like my STEM project but won't tell me what it's about."

"Give you something to look forward to," Voight offered.

"Yea, but maybe it actually sucks," Eth called across the kitchen at him.

"It doesn't suck," Voight rasped.

"Then you should tell me what it is so I know for sure," E argued.

Voight gave him firmer eyes. "Take the attitude down a notch."

That huff again. The kid was really cruising and it was only seven a.m. Might be a real long day in a real long weekend. Could end up being a real exercise in patience between Magoo and Justin.

J hadn't appeared yet. Apparently sleeping in after making the drive the night before. Voight wasn't too sure how he felt about that. Wasn't a big fan of anyone sleeping away the day as it was. But he really didn't like that his son was leaving Olive to deal with morning duty with getting the baby up and changed and feed for the start of the day.

Voight would've been happy to do Henry duty for the morning. Let Olive catch a bit of extra shuteye too. But he'd already been up and on the go by the time H starty squawking around 6:30. Hank had heard him and had headed back upstairs to offer to take the baby but Olive was already getting hi diaper changed and looked to be on the go. Declined the offer to hand the kid over and lay back down for a bit.

Voight appreciated that on some level. Liked an early riser. Liked that Olive and H had their little established routine. But also knew that the woman had to do the routine on her own a lot of days. That J would already be up and off to PT. Sounded like he got home a lot for breakfast and a shower with them having a house on base. But didn't get to be there long before heading back in for his duty, training and classroom hours. Then wasn't home until dinner or later a lot of nights. Sounded like some nights he didn't come back in the door until Olive and H were into their bedtime routine. Knew that Fort Campbell did schedule a lot so its soldiers got four-day weekends pretty regularly. But the guys sure paid for that with the hours they were on duty and the just as regular weekends that they were scheduled for training days. Guys rotating out of there sure paid for it too with the frequency and the kind of hot spots they deployed to. But he tried not to dwell on that too much. Wouldn't be happening now with him in Signal Corps training and then off to school. Be more training after that before he got based somewhere again and who knew where the hell that would be or how long it would be for before they sent his son off somewhere. Wasn't his business, though, Knew that being deployed was more than a possibility when he'd dropped his son off at the recruitment office and knew that Justin was more than old enough and should now be educated enough about army life and what a career in the military meant. He'd made the decision for himself that he wanted to pursue the education and extend his commitment. Had to respect that on some level too. At least it seemed like his son had some direction now.

So he supposed him sleeping in on a Saturday morning after putting in a work week and driving seven hours the night before wasn't that wrong. But Voight also thought that his son wasn't the only one who deserved a break. That parents didn't really get breaks and when it came to kids as little as H, it sure as fuck was usually the mother who wasn't getting anything that resembled a break more days than not. Stuck at home with the little baby. Didn't matter how much you loved the kid or how happy you were to have them – how cute they might be in any given moment – reality was they were a whole lot of exhausting, mentally, emotionally and physically draining work. They were royal pains in the asses. So Voight's feeling was with them being home, back in Chicago, it meant that Olive should get a bit of a break. Didn't like that she wasn't accepting the help and taking it – but respected it on some level. There was some toughness in that girl. Woman.

Reminded himself too that it'd only be a couple more months before he had his son, daughter-in-law and grandson home. He could help out a bit more then. Make sure that Olive was getting some breaks and a bit of time to do her own thing or do a bit of nothing. Re-energize. Knew that even the tough cookies needed that. Had been more than a few days when J and when E were little ones that he'd walk in the door from work and Cami would just hand them off to him and she'd disappear upstairs with that door closing shut. Clear message that it was his turn and she was done in that moment. She needed at least 20 minutes to just be away from what a baby and toddler demanded. Enough with the touching and whining and talking and squawking. Just some peace and quiet to do whatever it was she got up to up there.

Been weekends too where she'd none to discretely told him that he needed to get the kids – all of them – out of the house for a couple hours. She wanted the space to herself. She wanted to get some things done with out teens or pre-teens or toddlers underfoot. She wanted to read and watch a movie without them interrupting her or putting on one of their shows or demanding one of their stories. Been other times she'd just told him she was going out. Disappear for a bit. Knew sometimes she went and got her hair cut or had a coffee or met up with a friend. Other times she just did some of the family errands without having a kid in tow.

Voight was OK with all of that. Part of sharing raising a family. And knew his wife had been home dealing with their hellions for a lot more hours than him most weeks. She deserved the break just as much as he thought Olive did right now. Hell, Olive was in a harder spot with H still being so little and her still being an at-home-mom and stuck on that base. Camille had gone back to work. But that was its whole other kettle of fish in terms of balancing acts and exhaustion. Though, it seemed like she'd been glad she'd decided to keep on with her career. To still have that piece of herself and her identity. To get a bit of escape from the kids even if it meant other challenges for them to navigate. He'd be supportive in that. Would've supported her whatever she'd decided. Stay-at-home or back to work. She'd done stay-at-home for a while when J was little but just wasn't her. Though, she'd talked about it again after J started acting up a bit and with Eth still a little guy. Did take a bit of time off but at that point with the kids the ages they were and with the school they had them in and the lifestyle they'd settled into, not having the second income had been a little rough so her sabbatical had just been that. Tried to right the ship a bit and had headed back.

Hank knew Olive was thinking she'd like to get back to work when H was a bit older too. That she wanted to work a bit on finishing up her qualifications for physical therapy and get an internship or residency or whatever the fuck it was called in while she was in Chicago. Maybe get some work experience in the big city too. Seemed reasonable to him. Seemed like a pretty good skill set to have in your back pocket when you were living around army communities. Could see a lot of folks eventually needing some physical therapy at some point. Knew that E's therapy was sure helping him a lot. So respected her pursuing that role too. Good work. Reasonable career path. Smart.

She'd mentioned some that she thought she might try to at least do a part-time job after they got back in the city to bring in some extra cash while J was just on a housing subsidy and reservist pay while he got his degree. Made sense. Chicago wasn't exactly cheap anymore, especially if they wanted to raise H in a reasonable family community over the next few years. Might be hard for her to swing, though. Finding something part-time and it being worth it with the cost of childcare got into a whole slippery slope thing. Childcare sure wasn't cheap either. But he'd let them figure out that math on his own. Bite his tongue.

He was willing, though, to help out some. Didn't want to end up being the presumptive babysitter and the nanny they had on speed dail but he sure didn't mind having his grandson around. Wouldn't mind taking him for part of a day on occasion. Wouldn't mind doing a bedtime routine with him so J and Olive could get a night on the town now and again. Likely would be willing to do the occasional overnight and weekend too. And definitely wanted to get it all settled into a routine so he was seeing his grandbaby at least once a week. Maybe try to get the kids settled into a Sunday dinner again. See if J and Erin could manage that for him. He'd have to hope. They both seemed to be trying to mend bridges a bit. Erin trying a bit more than Justin, though, when it really should be the other way around. But Voight was again doing his best to bite his tongue there and letting the kids sort it out on their own. Got to let siblings rip each other apart now and then and just hope that when push came to shove they'd be there for each other when the real shit hit the fan. So far that had seemed to be the case. Though, Erin seemed to get it more than his son. But she was older. J was getting there. Fatherhood was getting him to grow up a bit. Incrementally.

"How long is summer school?" Olive asked.

"Alll month," E lamented. "It's going to suck sooooo bad."

"Well, at least you'll have August off?" Olive tried, Henry smacking at his high chair and squealing out a demand for some more of the smoothie.

"Sorta," Eth agreed. "I've got summer camp for part of it. But that's going to be pretty awesome. Some of the people on my baseball team got into the camp too and some are in the same session as me. We're going to get to do like mega awesome stuff. And the days we aren't at RIC, we're at the new park with the awesome playground only it's not like a playground it's like … I don't know. You have to go see it. DAD! We should go show them!"

Hank looked over and gave his head a shake. "Be too busy," he said. "And H is too small." He looked at Olive in the eyes again. "Maggie Daley," he provided flatly.

She nodded some acknowledgement at that.

"But it will be awesome!" E said, back at Olive. "They've got a climbing wall and basically this camp makes sure that everywhere lets us do everything. It doesn't matter if you've got bad legs or no legs. My friend Eva doesn't have a leg. You still get to do everything. Like kayaking! And scuba diving! But just in a pool. And horseback riding and mini golf and marital arts like karate and judo and TRIATHLON! And to the movies and a play and a museum. Basically it's going to be sick. Only I'm not going to get to go on the best field trip because Dad won't sign the form."

"You aren't going to the amusement park," Hank said sternly.

"Dad!" Ethan argued with him. "Everyone is going to Six Flags."

"You're not everyone," Voight put to him simply.

"Dad! There will be kids in like wheelchairs who get to go! Eva gets to go! She says she'll just not wear her leg that day or take it off before rides. It's not a big deal."

"Ethan," Voight said even more firmly. "We've talked about this. Position's not going to change. Your body and your head doesn't need to be rattled around on all those rides."

"It's not a big deal," Ethan huffed again and clearly rolled his eyes at Olive to show his distaste.

"You can go to the water park," Voight said.

"Yea," Ethan said overly dramatically, "if I let you or Erin come. That's so lame."

Voight gave his own shrug. "Guess you don't want to go then."

"Dad, it's just a water park. I can swim. You don't even swim. You go down slides," he argued harder.

"You spend the next five weeks or so working on proving to me that you can manage getting up and down stairs on your own – while carrying an innertube – and that you know enough to keep putting your sunscreen on and taking breaks in the shade and keeping yourself hydrated, and maybe you'll get me to believe that you don't need an escort on this trip," Voight graveled at him.

"So you'll let me do everything else alone with the camp counselors but you won't let me go to the water park?" E mouthed off again. "You don't make any sense."

Yea, Voight thought – and he'd already expressed to Ethan – everything else was supervised by professionals, for short periods of time and either inside or at facilities where the kids would be getting inside within about a 90 minute space. The rollercoaster trip and the water park trip were optional. Extra fee on top of the program and with signing a whole new series of liability and waiver forms and a volunteer form sent out to parents and guardians near explicitly stating that depending on what their child's disability was it pretty much made a whole lot of sense for them to have a personal escort and caretaker accompanying them. That these were family trips – within the program – not fucking field trips. Voight didn't have the time to go to both of these things and he didn't like his kid on rollercoasters anyway. Banging around his battered body and his scrambled head. Didn't sound bright to him. And he was getting sick of hearing about it out of his son.

"Ethan, you're cruising," he warned.

Ethan huffed even louder and crossed his arms on the table in a pout. His chin setting down on his folded forearms.

Kid knew the line. Had heard it most of his life. But lately E had been decidedly testing him. Trying to see if it really was a veiled threat since they both knew that he didn't hit his kids. There wouldn't be a bruising in the offing no matter how much he was cruising. But there were a whole lot of other ways that Voight could leave his smart-mouthed thirteen year old in a world of hurt.

Extra chores. Lost screentime. Confiscated tablet and laptop. No allowance ridiculously early lights out. Missed ball practice that had resulted in him riding the bench at a game. It'd shut him up. Had taken some incremental punishments piled on for him to get the point but he'd reeled in on the talkback. Until this weekend apparently. But Voight knew that was E putting on a bit of a show. A front to try to play the big man for his brother. Show off a bit for Olive too. Try to prove some sort of bullshit to his nephew. A whole lot of monkey-see, monkey-do. It was what Magoo had spent years witnessing J do. That chest puffing and chip on the shoulder while he tried to be the big man that was nothing more than a show-off. But Voight wasn't going to put up with another one of his son's going that route. Wasn't going to go through six or eight years of that as a single parent. Wasn't going to see what that looked like in manhood – because he already knew. Magoo was going to be going down a different path.

So he wanted to put on a bit of a show for Olive. Let him. But Voight was going to shut him down before J showed up. Wouldn't be continuing out of that kitchen. Wouldn't be continuing from here on out. He'd gotten his moment. Got to talk like the big man to his sister-in-law. Now he could act his age and mind his manners.

And Voight knew that with that line – his son had acknowledged he'd reached the end of the line. A step farther and he'd be tumbling off an edge into an abyss he didn't want to see on the Independence Day weekend. Not when the kid had a list of things he wanted to get to do. E wasn't that stupid. Sometimes he could be. Just like all kids could. But he wasn't that stupid. He knew when to toe the line. To shut the fuck up. Something that J was still learning.

"Well, you'll have your camping trip too when you come down to visit to look forward to too?" Olive tried, clearly picking up on the tension and Ethan's sudden sulk.

The kid gazed at her slightly. "Yea," he allowed. "But that's not until almost the end of August and it's mostly to help you guys pack and move."

"Not just a work trip," Voight interjected, giving the kid a bit of leeway. "Told you to start planning our route and our stops."

"Yea," Ethan allowed quietly and stirred to sit up a bit straighter to look at Olive. "So far I think we should go to the Indy Museum and there's the Louisville Slugger Museum and Factory in Louisville so we should definitely stop there. You can even get a bat made and engraved there while you like watch. So I think I'll save up for that. Maybe."

"Those sound like fun stops," Olive gave him a little smile.

"Yea," Ethan shrugged. "Dad says we're going to Mammoth Cave too because it's somewhere him and Mom always wanted to take us but we didn't ever go. But it doesn't have mammoths or anything. It's just a big cave."

Just a big cave was right. Biggest in the world. They'd always planned on getting the kids down there on a camping trip at some point. Life just hadn't worked out that way. Wasn't sure if Cami would be happy or a little jealous he'd be taking their boy there now.

Had thought about stringing E along for a bit and letting him think they were going to see mammoth bones or tusks or fossils or whatever. But didn't like twisting the truth too much with his kid. E didn't need that kind of bullshit in his life, even if it was all in good fun. Besides, he figured that E would likely be more disappointed if he'd built it up for himself to be some dinosaur thing only to find out that it was "just a big cave."

Thing was they might not even be able to see too much of the cave. Most of the tours were pretty long with fair distance of walking and not much opportunity to sit down. Not to mention some of the tours had more than four hundred steps. That just wasn't going to be an option with E. So they'd end up on one of the basic tours. More family friendly ones, which were really designed for folks showing up with real small kids. But at least they'd finally get to see the place and him and Magoo could get an overnight camping and some fishing in too. Appease him a bit. Though, he thought that E would like the cave more than he thought he would. Kid was just at that age that he had to be unimpressed with pretty much everything. No pleasing them at that age.

"Not to far outside of Bowling Green," Voight offered to Olive. "You and J are welcome to join us with Henry, if you want. Get in his first camping trip. Real nice family-friendly campground not far outside of the park. Jellystone run."

Olive gave him a nervous smile. Didn't get the sense she was much for the whole camping thing. Though, he figured if J and Olive did join them with the baby, he'd look into getting a cabin rental for them. Give them some creature comforts and make it a bit easier on the baby.

Hadn't had J out on a camping trip since he was a teen. Not in a real long time. Might be nice. Be real nice to know he got his two sons out to the damn cave his wife had so wanted to take them to too. That'd count for something. Get his grandson out there too. Might as well if they were just doing the family tour anyway. Make some memories. Get some more photos to put in frames for Camille's cabinet there in the kitchen. She'd like that a lot. Make her happy. Three boys together at the cave. Maybe he'd even allow himself to get in front of the camera and in on the thing too.

"I'll talk to Justin …" she allowed but the tone suggested that the talk wasn't likely to be one where she expressed too much excitement about the idea.

Voight would have to think about if he wanted to step on Olive's toes and talk to his son himself. Not just about the cave or getting to be with him on H's first camping trip. That it was about his mom. But wasn't sure he wanted to put his son in that spot. Bit manipulative.

"E and I been talking 'bout stopping at the Corvette Assembly Plant in Bowling Green too before we came down to base," Voight offered instead. Thought that might be a bigger seller, at least with Justin. "If you guys haven't made the trip out there yet."

Olive gave him another shy smile but turned to E instead, clearly not wanting to disappointment by giving him negative feedback or some kind of excuse about that extended family getaway he was proposing.

"Sounds like you're really getting into cars, Ethan?"

Ethan shrugged. "I just like building things and motors and circuitry and stuff. But Dad knows lots about cars and some of the stuff is fun to collect. I like collecting stuff."

Olive allowed a little smile. "Henry likes cars too," she allowed and gave Voight another gentler look.

"Only his talk and are annoying," Ethan said.

"Ethan …" Hank warned.

He caught his son start to roll his eyes but E seemed to catch himself too and settled on the table again.

"Well, it sounds like you have a pretty busy summer planned," Olive said.

Ethan shrugged. "Yea. We're going to do some other fun stuff too. Maybe. Dad says it's all like … contingent … on positive attitude and good behavior."

Olive smiled a bit wider and cast Voight a look.

"But there's like a dinosaur exhibit coming and the Tall Ships are coming and there's a real Viking ship this year and there's the air show. So we might do that stuff. And they do fireworks every weekend on the Pier and me and Dad go watch them on Northerly Island a lot," E said. "Because I like fireworks."

"Guess you're looking forward to this weekend's then," Olive provided.

"They're the best fireworks of the year but Henry isn't likely going to want to come since he's …. One."

"Oh …," Olive said and looked at Hank. "I mean … you can still go …?"

Hank nodded. "I'll still take Magoo down. He's got our whole itinerary planned out all weekend."

"Oh, yeah?" Olive allowed, giving Ethan a look. "What you got planned for us today?"

"Well, usually Saturdays are me and Dad days but since you guys are here—"

"Ethan," Hank warned firmly. The kid and his fucking filter.

Ethan looked at his dad innocently and somewhat confused. Again not seeing that he'd been remotely rude. Sometimes socializing the kid felt like an uphill battle. Didn't need the kid to be soft and cuddly to everyone around him. But wished he was a bit nicer to Olive at times. Though, he'd have to just accept that that morning the kid was being about the most socially with her he'd ever been. At least Olive seemed to get that the kid said a lot of stupid shit and didn't know what he was saying. Didn't understand he was acting inappropriately.

"Dad thinks we should go to the zoo," Ethan provided to Olive. "And since he likes my dinosaurs, Henry will like the zoo because they've got lots of reptiles too. Like snakes and lizards. Frogs. That sort of thing."

"Oh …," Olive seemed to brighten a bit at that idea and cast Hank a look. "That sounds like a fun day."

"Yea," Ethan said. "And Dad says that we can either go have lunch at RJ Grunts. Because they've got a totally retro salad bar or we can go pick up a picnic pack at Castaways and hangout on the beach. But we're going to the beach tomorrow so it's OK if you don't feel like going today. But we can go both days. That's OK too."

Olive gave E a thin smile but again didn't comment on any of those options. Olive and Henry were both so fair skinned, Hank doubted spending two afternoons on the beach were on her list of priorities. But Hank hadn't had much of a chance to talk to her yet to see what any of her priorities were for the weekend. Maybe she just wanted to sit around the house or take H over to her aunt's or not go any farther than the park at the end of the block.

So he glanced at Magoo and went to wash his hands, getting the spices he'd been massaging into the back ribs off his hands. He had them in their racks, the woodchips in the smoker boxes. He was set to get it going but thought he should really get his son going too before he moved out to the backyard and left him in the kitchen with Olive.

So he headed over to the table and scruffed at Eth's short hair. The kid looked up at him with big eyes.

"Put your glass in the sink, rinse it out and head upstairs to brush your teeth," he instructed. "Want you to take your mutt out for a walk before it gets too warm."

E gazed at him for a long moment. Could tell he was thinking about if he wanted to protest but apparently he thought better of it and managed to get himself up from the table and headed for the upper level – forgetting to take his glass to the sink. Voight made and unimpressed sound but didn't remind him, picking it up to do it himself.

"Sorry he's motoring at you," Voight allowed as the water ran into the cup. "We've been trying him on this new medication to try to help a bit with his spasticity but seems to be making him a whole lot more agitated … chatty."

Olive shrugged and took the washcloth that Hank had brought back over to the table for her to work at cleaning up the mess of smoothie that H had spread all over his high chair tray and his face. "That's OK. I don't get to talk to him that often. He seems excited about the weekend."

Voight returned her shrug. "Sure, but don't feel like we have to check off every item on his bucket list there. You don't feel like going to the zoo—"

"No, it really sounds like a nice day," Olive interjected.

Voight allowed a little nod and contemplated her statement – weighing the honesty of it.

"They got a train and a carousel too," Voight said instead after deciding she likely wasn't lying. He turned to the cabinet and pulled a photo frame from there, handing it to Olive. Was E and Camille. E sitting on the cheetah on the carousel. Couldn't remember why the kid had picked that animal out of all the options but did know it was appropriate. Kid moved about a hundred miles an hour from the moment he could walk. Olive smiled at the picture. "Took the kids a lot when they were little guys. Got more than lizards even though that's what Magoo wants to look at these days."

Olive smiled and looked up at him. "I went as a kid too," she conceded. "I haven't been in forever."

"Mmm …," Voight grunted and looked at his little grandson. A lot of places in the city to get him to. Good places. Chicago wasn't a bad city to raise kids in. Good things to see. Good experiences to share as a family. He was glad his grandson was going to get to experience some of them as a little guy. Glad too that hopefully he'd get the chance to share in at least some of them too.

But there was a loud clatter of approach as J came down the stairs and rumbled into the kitchen. He decidedly looked like he'd just woken up. Didn't look like he'd bother to do anything about cleaning up any, though beyond pulling on a tshirt and the jeans he'd been in the night before. Hair was still a mess.

"E's working on waking up the next block up there," J muttered as he slumped into the table. Henry shrieked excitement at his dad's arrival and Justin gave him a bright smile. "Hey, Nipper …" he greeted, though Voight and Olive hadn't even gotten a good morning. But he reached and unclipped the tray on the high chair and extracted his son, pulling him into his lap and blowing some air with pursed lips against his son's neck, which just made Henry squeal even more and clap happily while pawing at his father's face. J sat up straighter away from the on sloth and cast Olive a look. "He's all sticky."

"Ethan made him a banana pineapple smoothie," she said.

J made another disbelieving face. "He ate that?"

"He liked it," she said.

He shook his head. "He always tries to start World War Three with anything banana at home," he muttered.

"You couldn't really taste the banana," she said, and handed him the washcloth to work some more at Henry's sticky hands and face. But he seemed to think it was just a game from his dad and tried to dodge Justin at every movement.

"What'd you eat?" Justin mumbled as he battled the kid's perpetual motion.

"Smoothies," she said.

"Really?" he said and then cast Voight a questioning look. "What happened to your eggs and bacon Saturdays, Pop?"

Voight grunted at that and moved back over to his ribs on the counter. "Doing dinner prep. Figured you're all old enough to handle feeding yourselves in the morning."

J snorted at that and cast Olive a look. It effectively ended any interest Voight had in doing up breakfast for his son. Had initially been waiting for him to get up but so had everyone else and they'd opted for smoothie to hold them over. Didn't hear anyone else saying that wasn't enough to get them through to lunch.

"What's that?" J nodded at the frame Olive was still holding.

She showed it to him – pulling it back a bit when H grabbed for it. J leaned forward and looked, making a little noise of acknowledgement.

"We were talking about taking Henry to the zoo," she said.

J made another face. "What? Today?"

"Yea …"

Justin gave Hank a look. "Don't you think it will be a bit of a gong show this weekend, Pop?"

He shrugged as he picked up his racks and headed toward the breezeway.

Justin looked back to Olive. "Yeah, well, you guys do what you want," he said.

"Justin …" she sighed a little too meekly and Voight stopped his retreat to get the dinner smoking on the grill.

"What?" he put to her more bluntly. "Told you I needed to meet up with those people today."

Olive looked down, clearly deflated. Voight's ears rose and he stepped back into the kitchen.

"Who are you meeting?" he said.

Justin looked his way and shrugged. "Just friends," he said. "You don't know them. Don't worry about it."

He put the ribs down on the counter. "You telling me you came all the way home for a family holiday – get your little brother all excited – and you're going out with 'friends'?"

"Pop," Justin said with that condescending head cock of his and that wannabe shoulder shrug that apparently even the army couldn't beat out of him. "It's just today."

"Stepping away from your wife and son on a holiday weekend isn't a big deal? Missing out on your son's first visit to the zoo?" he graveled at him.

"C'mon, Pop, it's just the zoo," he said with the look again. "Been there a million times before."

"Your son hasn't," Voight pressed at him.

Justin gave his head a shake. "It ain't like it's a big family event," he muttered.

"Your mother took both of you boys to the zoo," Voight put to him.

Justin shook his head even more impressed. "Don't play the mom card, Dad," he said. "Mom took us lots of places."

"And you don't want to be with your son going to some of them?" Voight pressed more firmly.

"I can deal with missing the zoo, Pop," Justin said. "Not like we all have to be there to witness it. Erin's not here."

"Your sister and Jay are planning on joining us after we get on the go," Voight said sternly. "Been waiting for you to get your ass out of bed and on the go."

Justin made a sound and handed Henry across the table to Olive, rising from his chair. "Well, Pop, I've got my ass out of bed and I've got to go," he said, moving back toward the dining room and the stairs. "Don't need you to bust my balls about it. Only going to be a few hours. Got to take care of business. You know how it is."

Voight glared at him, fuming. Because he didn't think his son had a fucking clue how it was. How it had been when he was growing up. How it was now. But he couldn't argue with him about it. He wouldn't. Because his little man was now sitting in his mom's lap screaming with his father's departure. And Olive looked about as deflated with it even though there weren't immediate tears. Had yet to see the woman cry. Didn't need to see it today either.

So he ignored his son and turned his focus to his grandson. Moving across the kitchen and taking him from Olive. He pulled H to his chest in his wails and rubbing at his ear with some soothing sounds as Olive finally let him help.

Could only hope she'd let him help a bit more.


	114. Priorities

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY BREAKFAST SMOOTHIE.**

Voight gazed down to the lakefront – watching the kids goof around at the water's edge while the sun beat down on his bare back. He might be paying for that but the sun and the breeze felt good against his skin after being in the cool water. Kept him in the moment. Kept him trying to see the good going on down there in front of him rather than dwelling on the missing pieces. That his wife couldn't be there to see this. And that his oldest son had decided not to be.

And J was missing out. Too fucking much. Again.

Had missed the show Eth had put on about being too old for the zoo that had lasted all of about five minutes until they walked over to the polar bear enclosure and him and H both had their hands planted against the glass in the underwater viewing area. Both with wide-eyed pure glee as the big bears glided around in the water. They'd had the right idea. It was a scorcher.

Had missed how scared little H was when they first got over to the gorillas and then all the shrieking he did when one came over to the glass where they were standing.

Hank had been holding his little man, pulling him out of the stroller, so he could get him closer to the front and get a better view of the giants. The kid just kept looking at him and squealing "Ta! Ta!", which Olive was doing her best to try to convince him was the 11-month-old's best effort at Popa. Hank wasn't so sure he was buying it but H definitely was slapping his little palms against Popa's cheeks before turning back to the enclosure with that big baby-buck-toothed smile of his, as if to say, "Look, Popa! Look!"

"Ta! Ta!" was a new one in Henry's limited vocabulary, which was already steadily growing since he'd seen his grandbaby just a month ago. But his favorite seemed to be "Dat!" Everything was "Dat! Dat! Dat!" E had been pretty convinced that H wanted to go see the bats but Olive had again translated that he was really just saying "that". That his grandbaby had that same inquisitive mind he'd seen in his wife and his youngest – and it was endless question. Him already wanting you to tell him what everything was.

"Dat!" Henry would squeal at nearly every enclosure.

"That's a zebra, Henry," they'd all take turns telling him.

"Dat!" he'd just demand again, pointing even more demandingly, like he hadn't gotten the answer he wanted.

"That's a cheetah, H."

"DAT!"

Every time. It was pretty damn cute. Hank had been hanging back a bit, letting Olive manage the stroller and then Erin get in on some of the goo-goo, gah-gah action of doting on her nephew. But when the two of them hadn't been hauling him out of the stroller too much, Voight had decided to take over. Been happy to pull his little guy up to his chest and dodge through the crowds so he could get a look. Go over the this and that of each and every animal.

"Hi! Hi!" H had managed at a bunch of them too when some of the monkeys and meerkats had been right up near the glass. When there had been some swans in the little reservoir.

Hank had tried teaching him "bye-bye" as they finished looking at each animal. H didn't seem too sure about wrapping his tongue around that one. Olive had said she'd been working on it too but he didn't seem too interested. But kid was a good waver. You said "bye-bye" for him and he started waving like he was a member of the fucking Royal Family.

Real cutie. Big trouble, though. Wasn't too interested in being held that much. Not that Hank blamed him with how hot it was. He was strong for a little guy and when he was ready to be put down, he put up a good fight and had done some demonstrations on how good his lungs were. A fucking howler monkey.

"Ma! Ma! Maaaaaaa!" he'd screamed when he'd decided he was done with letting Popa carry him.

Hank hadn't minded too much, though. He was OK holding at his grandson's little hands and trailing behind him instead. H had been pretty insistent on attempting to navigate the zoo's pathways on his own. H seemed to think some of the pebbles and twigs on the ground were a hell of a lot more interesting than some of the animals in display. He been doing really good at picking them up, showing them to ya and then promptly trying to shove them in his mouth.

Sure didn't like the word "no". Not that any of Hank's kids had. Telling any of them "no" was a way to just ensure that they did what you didn't want them too. H was sure taking after his father that way. J had likely been the worst of the lot of them with that.

But H, you just say "no" to him and he looked at you all innocent like, repeat "Na!" and then still moved to take his snack. Supposed that everyone was going to eat some dirt and grit in their life but Hank had been doing the best to not let him be choking on any of it on his watch. H definitely was keeping Popa busy in keeping up with him and supervising him.

Eventually he'd relented and let Olive put him back in the stroller for a bit. H had taken a bit of a fascination in Magoo's crutches and kept grabbing at them. That had resulted in some stumbles for Eth and some pinched fingers for H. But both of them seemed to get over it fairly quick after each doing some own of their shrieking noises. Mostly out of surprise and annoyance at each other than anyone getting hurt.

Getting H back in the stroller made navigating the zoo a bit faster anyway. Though, likely wasn't it as fun for anyone. But it was a little crowded and with the heat, they didn't need to be going at a baby' pace through the place. Though, going at E's pace had them snailing along nearly as slowly. Even more slowly when Magoo had decided he wanted a turn pushing the stroller, which Hank wasn't so sure was that he wanted time with his nephew or he wanted something to lean on for some additional support. Maybe it was that he liked some of Lincoln Park young mom types up there giving him some attention in asking if that was his baby brother and him getting to announce it was his nephew. Seemed proud enough to say that, which felt nice to hear. Because sometimes Hank wasn't so sure how E felt about the whole uncle thing. Hard concept for him to wrap his head around when he was still just a kid and when he hadn't had any real uncles in his life. Alvin. Not blood, but still family. His kids lucked out that way, at least.

And, Hank was just happy that his boy seemed to be having a decent day too – so let him set the pace. Push the stroller. Hobble along.

But he was watching him carefully too. Made sure he was handling the heat and the crowds and the walking OK. Was doing pretty good. The heat had him tremoring a good bit was doing a reasonable job at hiding it with putting his weight on his crutches. Though, even with the crutches, Voight could see a bit of a wobble in his gait and was watching the clock to make sure they didn't over do it. Get him in some A/C to cool him down and reaccess. But even with his body putting up some protest, Eth was putting up a good front. Was still motoring off his mouth.

They'd gotten a real fucking monologue about every fucking reptile the zoo had in their reptile house. Sometimes Hank didn't know where the kid stored this stuff. How getting him to retain certain information – learn it – was such a fucking struggle with some things. But then others? His son was such a fucking encyclopedia. Like his mom that way. But knew that Camille would be smiling hearing their boy rattling off all this crap about the turtles and the frogs and the toads and the lizards. Though, E was way more interested in the snakes. They'd stood in front of the fucking boa, python and rattlesnakes enclosures for ages while Halstead and Erin worked at reading every fucking placard in the place to him. Good thing there'd be the otters just outside the pavilion and the things had been all over the place goofing off, or Voight was pretty sure Olive and H would've about lost interest and pulled the plug on waiting for Eth to finish up with the dinosaur's cousins inside.

Been one point that Erin and E had gone off to take a bathroom break that took so long that Voight was starting to think that Magoo must've had some sort of mishap and was embarrassed to come back out and grab the change of clothes they had in the daypack that Halstead had taken on lugging around without so much as a word when they were unloading the Escalade of all Eth's and the baby's crap. The guy had just grabbed it while he'd helped Olive with getting the stroller set-up and the diaper bag on hand and the lil' nipper settled. Didn't have to ask. Guy just did.

When they'd finally appeared, E had a fucking gift shop bag. Hank had felt some annoyance. But Erin had found his eyes and given him a warning look. His boy had gone right over to where Olive was taking a break on the bench in the shade with H.

Out of the bag, E had pulled a stuffed animal and held it out at his nephew.

"There, Henry, since they were your favorite, I think," E had told him.

H seemed to approve of the toy. Had grabbed at it and giggled as much as he had when they were watching the meerkats run frantically around their enclosure, standing up on their back feet to check out just who was making all that noise on the opposite side of the glass. The giggling only lasted until the toy got shoved in his mouth. Everything went in the mouth. Best way to check it out. But seemed to have H's seal of approval.

Had Hank's too. Had wrapped his arm around his shoulder and held him close for the few seconds he let him, before the kid realized they were in public.

"Didn't need to do that, Magoo," Hank had said to his son.

But his boy had just shrugged. "It's so he can tell his dad about them since Justin didn't come," Magoo had said and then mutely added. "Besides I had some money left from holiday week anyway and this way you can't say I spent it on something stupid."

Voight had allowed him a small smile at that and a squeeze of the shoulder. But it had really struck home again that his oldest hadn't come out for the day. That he'd opted out. And he was really starting to wonder how much Justin did opt out on. How much he really had his priorities straight. How much he really got that family was everything. That after you were done your job – you went home to your wife and kids. That that's where you should be spending your time. That should be where your priorities were. Be there for as much of it as you could.

It didn't matter that H was just a little guy. That he wouldn't remember this trip. That he'd have lots more zoo trips in his life time. This was his first one. And it was one he'd had the opportunity to go on with his whole family. His aunt and his uncle and his popa. Not just his mom and dad. But his dad had checked out. Treated it like it was some sort of optional activity.

And it grated at him more when his thirteen-year-old kid was standing there and doing something in his own little way that showed, he fucking got it. That maybe none of this was at the top of Magoo's list of ways to spend his Saturday either – but he got why they were there and who they were there for. He got it wasn't all about him all the fucking time. And that even if it was some stupid shit you didn't particularly want to do, you could make the best of it.

Doubted that this was on the top of the list of ways that Erin and Halstead wanted to spend a Saturday on their long weekend either – but they'd shown up too. They were helping and they were present. Doing their best to make it a nice day for everyone.

It'd smacked Voight in the face again when they'd taken Henry over to the carousel. Eth had been doing some humming-and-haing about if he was going to go on it – because he'd decided it was for little kids. Real little kids. But Erin had put a bit of a production – overt enthusiasms – about wanting to go on. Been enough to convince Eth that was "lame" as it was it wasn't that lame. That it was "cool lame" or some fucking slang word he'd used that Voight hated coming out of his mouth.

Hank had been holding Henry on the lion as the thing went around so Olive could take a couple pictures. H wasn't too sure about the whole thing. Kept looking up at Popa with these big, confused eyes. But he just smiled down at him and kept pointing over at his mom, trying to get him to turn that way so Olive could get a decent shot.

He'd been trying to keep an eye on Magoo, though. He'd claimed an ostrich not too far in front of them. The tallest fucking animal on the ride. So tall he'd needed help to get up on. It'd been a bit of an operation of getting his tossed over the thing. Erin and Halstead were goofing around on the rhino next to him. Taking selfies or some shit. Not watching the kid. When Voight had started to see Eth wobbling a bit up there.

"Ethan …" he'd called at his son. But the kid didn't react, just fumbled a bit more – to the point that Voight thought he was about to hit the ground. But his hands were keeping Henry in place on the ride. "Erin!" he barked instead.

She'd startled a bit but it'd been Halstead who'd spot the problem been off the fucking rhino, catching the kid in an instant.

"I've got him …," he'd managed.

And Erin had been over too a second later. "What happened? Are you OK?"

"Yea … I just got dizzy," Ethan had muttered embarrassedly.

Olive had returned to take over handling Henry but even in the few extra seconds it'd taken Voight to get over to his boy, Erin and Jay had it handled. Talking to him. Propping him up with some additional support. Getting his crutches back on his forearms and under him. Water bottles pulled out of the backpack and getting him to drink. Checking at his temperature and his eyes.

They were doing the whole mother hen thing. Had the situation under control. When Voight wondered if Justin had been there, if he'd known what to do. If he'd been there as fast. If it would've even happened when they'd had an extra hand up on the ride in the first place.

Taken it as a clear indication that it was time to get inside. Tromped everyone over to this family place that him and Camille had used to take the kids too years ago. Still a family-friendly place. Still a fucking hole in the wall that looked like it'd never left the 1970s. But they had the A/C blasting, reasonably priced foot and a good view of the park.

H had fallen asleep in the stroller before they'd even gotten over there. As soon as the A/C hit Eth, Hank had thought he might fall asleep too. Was looking a little dopey but seemed to perk up after he got some food into him. There was lots on the menu but E got the salad bar and everyone else seemed to think that meant they had to too. Voight didn't mind. One of the better deals in the city. And on days that hot, you didn't want anything too heavy sitting in your belly anyways.

It'd again been Erin who'd helped out her brother. Filling his plate for him so he didn't have to try that operation with his crutches. Again something she'd just done so fucking naturally and without even thinking. Bringing her brother's food over for him before she went to get her own. Halstead waiting for her up at the salad bar and not even taking his first bite until she'd come and sat back down after perusing over the hundred-and-something items in the damn thing.

So Halstead waits her out. When Erin probably didn't care if he started. Hell, Voight wasn't even sure if she'd noticed that the guy had waited for her. But Hank had. So he's got his one kid here with her finance – who's playing the husband and the brother and showing some know-how in care and parenting. And his other kid, who's actually already married and has a kid, couldn't even show up. And he really fucking doubted that it would've been Olive and Henry he'd be making sure ate first if he was there. Even though Voight wanted to think he was raised in a house that taught that was the way you were supposed to treat your family. That your wife – that caring for your kids, taking care of the little ones, the younger ones – that's what came first.

Hank had thought they were pretty much done for the day after that, but with H still napping, Olive had expressed a willingness to cross the street to the beach, if Eth was still interested in that. He hadn't taken much convincing. The answer had been near instantaneous. So even though by the time of the day, Voight knew his boy was nearing his burn-out hour, he'd gone along with the idea. Figured the kid could manage another hour or two before getting back across town and giving him some downtime. E would likely be needing a nap too. Maybe him and Henry could go down for one together that afternoon. Give all the grown-ups a bit of a break.

Beach was busy that day too. But that was too be expected. Would be all weekend. All of them. There was no avoiding it. Even if they drove a bit out of town, he was sure the lakeshore was going to be packed. Between the long weekend and the scorcher weather, if people hadn't entirely left the town or the state to their private or weekend getaways, they were going to be spending at least part of it down by the water. Just the way it was.

But they'd managed to find a decent spot. He'd forked out some extra cash to get an umbrella rental to try to get E some extra shade but the kid hadn't been sitting up on the sand too much. So was just having to hope between the base cap, sunglasses, UV top and layers of sunscreen that him and Erin had both smeared all over him, that he was going to be protected enough.

Voight had gone down with the kids for a bit. He'd floated H around a bit about chest deep, splashing some water up on to him. But the kid hadn't been too sure about any of it. Screamed some bloody murder. So he'd handed him back to his mom and played around in the water with E instead. Cooled down from the morning in the zoo. Tossed him around the way the kid liked. Given Erin and Halstead a bit of space. They hadn't too discretely wandered a couple hundred feet from them in the water and had waded out passed their waists. He'd seen some embracing and some stray and relatively innocent necking going on in the few times he'd glanced over to spot them. Not much more than a couple pecks that seemed to be punctuated by Erin snicker at something he'd said and smiling up at him.

Sometimes it was hard for him to see too much of that. Two of them weren't overtly touchy-feely in public but there was some PDA. Voight supposed, though, that most couples should have some occasional PDA. Wasn't like they were rubbing it right in their faces. Just could be a bit of a challenge separating the couple from them being partners who he had to supervise on the job. Not that he'd caught any PDA at work even if there'd been enough flirting to rub him the wrong way. So he had to remind himself of other things. Like the way the two of them were looking at each other. That he got her to laugh. That he seemed gentle and respectful with her – and his daughter deserved that. And that he did things like wait for her at the dinner table. And showed up to fucking family activities that he likely could've come up with a whole lot excuses to bail out on.

But E had tossed his crutches not too far from the waterline. Seemed like the direction of the wind must've changed some and the water was lapping closer to them than Voight would've liked, so he'd grabbed them and gone to take a bit of a break of his own with the towels. Apparently he was getting to be more of a grandpa than he thought. He was about done his threshold for family activity too that day and would soon be pulling the plug on the day. Get everyone home for a bit of rest and get back to the grill to check to see how the ribs were doing. So hot he likely hadn't even needed to put the fucking grill on low. Just leaving them in there with the lid closed might've been more than enough.

So now he was just watching. H seemed a lot more happy to have his feet on the ground. Toddling back and forth along where the water was lapping up with his mom. Squealing every time the water tickled at his toes and stamping around like it was a never-ending puddle. Damn cute in his little body suit and sun hat that he kept pulling off and Olive kept depositing back on his head only for H to pull it off again and look at it questioningly before gazing at his mom in a clear demand of "why do you keep putting this damn thing on my head?" only to drop it in the water and sand for Olive to pick it up again and shake it off and wring it out and put it back on his head. When she wasn't doing that, she was trying to knock the handfuls of sand he kept picking up and looking like he wanted to shove in his mouth. She was managing to keep him from doing that but H was still sticking his fingers in his mouth. At first it hadn't seemed like he was too impressed with the grit he was getting. Was making a really funny face. Clearly unimpressed as he licked and smacked around the dirt in his mouth. But now he seemed to have acquired a taste for it and wasn't listening too well to his mom's efforts to get him to just dance around in the water. Though, she looked pretty funny doing her own little dance of hops and jumps and foot stamps in the water. Funnier still when H tried to copy her, jumping up and down. Had fallen a couple times in his efforts and let out some more wails. So Voight thought he was likely nearing his next nap time too at that point.

Jay and Erin had come back over to watch Ethan some. Had found some stick or something they were tossing around and goofing off with. But mostly it was a lot of wrestling going on and splashing. E trying to get the best of them and apparently not too worried about the fact they were bigger and stronger than them. Seemed to just be shooting for them to flip him and dunk him.

There was some movement next to him and he glanced over to see Justin settling down on the towels. "Fancy set-up you've got here, Pops," he muttered about the umbrella, as he proceeded to dust sand off himself and all over the fucking towels.

Voight just stared at him. Nearly two in the afternoon. Likely not more than thirty minutes before they'd be calling it a day. And now he shows up. He didn't know if he should be happy that he'd decided to fucking show. Maybe he should've been. But it wasn't. It really just made him madder. So he shifted his eyes back to the water.

"How are your 'friends'?" he asked. Not that he really cared about the answer.

"Good," Justin shrugged.

"Mmm …," Voight grunted.

"How was the zoo?" his son asked.

"Mmm …," Voight grunted again.

Justin made a noise. "C'mon, Pop," he huffed. "Don't be like that."

Voight just kept looking down at the water. Focusing on what was there. His youngest who was smiling. His daughter and her fiancée all smiles and playing with him. His daughter-in-law trying to be the best mother she seemed to know how and his little grandson being a cute little bugger. Trying to keep positive energy focused on family. Because holiday weekends – that's where the energy was supposed to go when you had a family of your own. Right there. To those people he had down in the water.

"Get your business sorted?" Voight rasped.

"Yeah, Pop, I did," Justin said firmly.

"Mmm …," Voight grunted. "Hope it was pretty important."

He could feel J's eyes set on him. His eyes still weren't where they were supposed to be – down in that water. J still wasn't where he was supposed to be with his ass sitting on those towels rather than down in the lake.

"Yeah, Pop," he said. "It was pretty important."

"Better've been," Voight rasped. Justin just shook his head – like he was just providing some sort of inconvenience. Justin did a real good job at making them all feel like they were just some giant fucking inconvenience most of the time. "Sometimes don't know why you're coming back," he provided flatly. Let it get out without biting his tongue.

"Pop," Justin sighed with even more annoyance. "Don't start."

Hank just shook his head. "Justin, you don't even want to spend time with us on a fucking holiday. Can't manage being a family for a day … three days … and you want to move back here? Why?"

"Getting my degree, Dad," he said. "It will be better for my career. My family."

"Could've gone and got your piece of paper lots of places," Voight muttered. He'd dully noted that his career had been ranked ahead of his family in that statement. And no matter how proud he was of his son pursuing a higher education and a meaningful career, he had trouble feeling any pride in where he placed his priorities on that scale.

"Yeah, well, Olive wanted to come back here. And I thought you'd want to be closer to Henry," Justin said under his breath.

"Mmm…," Voight grunted. Because there wasn't anything he could say there that would come off right. Wasn't going to deny wanting more time with his grandson. Wasn't going to deem Olive's wants. But still didn't help in the feeling that his son just … didn't give a shit.

"Look, I was just trying to get my family's housing situation sorted, OK?" Justin finally spat, giving him a firm look. An angry one – like it was him who was in the wrong.

Voight shifted slightly to cast him a side-glance – to measure the truthfulness of the statement. J's body language told him it was a half-truth at best. Olive's body language all fucking day had said it was likely less than that.

"Get it sorted?" Voight put to him anyway.

J shrugged and did look away then. A major tell. Justin was never very good at looking him in the eye. Not since he was a little kid. He was telling his big tales and he wasn't looking at you and as soon as you called him on his bullshit his line of sight hit the floor. His feet got real interesting.

"Yeah. Just about," he said.

"Mmm …," Voight allowed and looked back to his family again. "So where's this housing?"

Justin made a noise and cast him another annoyed look. "You ask Erin where she's house hunting?"

Voight grunted. "Don't have to. She talks to me."

"Yeah, OK, Pop …" he said and finally did seem to cast his eyes down at the water. Erin had come up to the shore at that point and was bend down talking to Henry who was holding up some treasure – looked like a twig – for her to see while his mom once again tried to get his hat back on.

"So where's this housing?" Voight put to him again.

There was a glare. "Cicero," Justin put bluntly.

Voight cast his eyes more directly at the kid, weighing that statement. Trying to see if J was just trying to get a reaction out of him. "Cicero?" Voight repeated back to him.

Justin shrugged. "Yeah, Pop, not all of us can afford to look at places in like Wicker Park," he said with this vile edge.

"Your sister ain't looking in Wicker Park and don't see how what communities she's looking at has anything to do with what you're looking at," he put bluntly.

J just shrugged again. "Then I guess you shouldn't care that I want to raise my family in Cicero."

Voight let out an annoyed breath. But he decided not to bite. Decided that his son was trying to get a rise out of him. Decided that if his son really wanted to live there than that was his fucking business. And he'd reserve his opinion. Because they both already knew his opinion and he wasn't going to get into some pissing match about it on a holiday weekend that he wanted to focus on his family – not some stand-off with his son.

He watched as Halstead and E got out of the water, saying something to Erin, before spotting that Magoo was struggling finding his footing on the sand. So he'd said something to Eth and then squatted a bit, E wrapping his arms around the man's neck and them making the trek up the beach. Voight could feel J's eyes setting on that show too. Glaring. As the two of them got over and Halstead let the kid slide down his back.

"You came," E put to Justin with a smile that wasn't returned.

So Voight turned his attention to his youngest in the hopes he wouldn't notice the scowl on his brother's face. Grabbed the sunscreen and started applying a new, thick layer on the scarring Eth had down the side of his head.

"Dad …," Eth whined and tried to dodge him not to differently than the trick H was pulling on Olive down by the water. But he ignored his son's protest just was much as her.

But then it was Justin who was barking – at Jay. "Why are you taking cash out of my sister's pants?" he demanded.

Halstead straightened from where he was bent over the towel, rummaging through where him and Erin had left their clothes in a pile. Eth glanced back at the scene, so quickly that Hank had nearly smeared sunscreen in his eyes, as he turned back to Justin's scowling face.

"Erin's treating everyone to froyo," Eth directed with his own edge back to Justin, before finding Hank's eyes. "She checked. They have diary free and sugar free sorbet, Dad. Two kinds. So I can have some, right?"

"Mmm…," he grunted in vague approve. Instead, he glanced up at Halstead. "You'll watch him? What he gets."

"Yea …," the man confirmed.

He just nodded and looked at his kid, swiping at the newly applied sunscreen once more. Trying to get it in a bit better. The scarred spots never seemed to absorb it very well but always burned like a fucker if they weren't careful.

"Listen, E, after the ice cream, we're wheels up," he said.

"Yea, sure …," Eth, muttered, taking Jay's hand, as he pulled him back up to his feet. Halstead glanced at the length of sand they were going to have to navigated to get up to the pathway leading to the beach house and concession stand and stooped again to retrieve the kid's crutches. "What kind do you want, Dad?"

Hank shrugged. "Trust you to pick," he said. Because he did. Because his youngest listened to him enough that he at least knew his basic preferences. His likes and dislikes. Some of his interests. His rules. His morals. Wasn't sure he could say the same of Justin, despite him having a decade more to learn them over Magoo.

"What do you want, Justin?" Eth asked. Polite but flat.

And all he got back was, "Don't want one."

"OK. Whateva," Ethan shrugged. Apparently he'd become so non-invested, he wasn't even going to try to encourage him to join them. And apparently Justin was so non-invested, he couldn't put up a front of having some fucking ice cream with the family. His level of involvement in that Saturday couldn't even include that.

E reached to grab his crutched from Halstead but he just crouched to pull his arms over his shoulders and bounce him up on his back again.

"I'll get you up to the path," he muttered and they took off.

Hank moved his eyes back to Justin who was scowling at their departure. His son's eyes shifted to him.

"You baby him," Justin put to him directly. "You all do."

Hank just shook his head and pushed himself to his feet.

"I treat him like my thirteen year old kid," Voight graveled down at his adult boy. "Erin and Jay – they treat him like he's their little brother and they're the adults in the relationship. You have a problem with any of those relationships, Justin, that's your problem. And, maybe rather than giving us all this negative bullshit about it. Projecting jealously and sibling rivalry with a little boy – maybe you ought to think about what you want your relationship to look like with him – or any of us – after you get back here. Because right now, it looks like you don't want much of one."

Since his son didn't look like he had any interest in interacting with his baby son, his wife, or his sister – Voight would. He'd go and enjoy another ten minutes or so with them at the water. Enjoy some ice cream with his family. And wrap up a decent day – that his oldest had done everything in his power to avoid participating in. And from that vacant look on his face, it sure looked like he'd be continuing that.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: I haven't been posting at 24 hour intervals the past few days. So you might want to check that you didn't miss Breakfast Smoothie or What You Can Offer.**


	115. Missed Memo

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 131 - Priorities.**

Erin pulled her eyes away from Jay's where they were sitting at the patio table on the back deck. His eyes were dancing at her – quite pleased with himself at the little quips he'd been making.

They'd somehow descended into a ridiculously random conversation about Jack Nicholson. She actually did know exactly how they'd gotten there. It was actually a sad progression. It probably said more about them as people and as a couple than she wanted to think about. Likely confirming they were getting old – and that they were weird. Or maybe in this case – strange. But she'd already known that.

Ethan had been begging them to convince Hank that they – namely he – should get to binge watch Stranger Things that weekend, since it was a long weekend and since it was only PG-13 and since it was about kids his age and since "EVERYONE" on his baseball team was watching going to be watching and they'd be talking about it at practice next week. But most especially since Evan was watching it so now Eva was going to watch it too. And if he didn't AT LEAST get to watch the first episode than he wouldn't know what anyone was talking about and he NEEDED to know what his new friends were talking about. So they didn't think he was MORE of a loser since he'd already bailed out of the sleepover mid-sleepover the previous weekend. Erin had done some arguing with him that that didn't indicate he was a loser and that if they really felt that way about him they weren't friend anyways but he'd just given her that little boy trying to be a definant teenger glare of his. But really, he was on a baseball team full of kids who had their own personal medical problems – or at least a notable medical history. She thought they likely hadn't thought too much of him leaving early. Or at least he was dwelling on it way too much.

But she understood that he just wanted to fit in and didn't want to lose these potential new friends he seemed to be clicking with – especially when one was a girl that he seemed to have more than a little interest in being friends with. It was kind of ridiculously cute. Not that she'd told him that. She'd get more than that definant glare then. Even though she so wanted to tease him about it. She was being nice for the moment. She'd start the teasing after the friendship was more established. She could just imagine how red Ethan would get and who pissed and twitchy. It'd be worth dealing with his denials and potential tantrum about the teasing. So worth it.

Ironically, though, after this whole debate about how grown-up he was to be allowed to watch the "horror" TV series that "wasn't going to be that scary because it's only PG-13!", she'd then escorted him upstairs for his afternoon nap. Not that they called it that. Because what thirteen year old wants to be told he needs an afternoon nap? To the point that it was pretty much mandated into his day – or at least his weekends. "Taking his break" was how her and Hank – and she supposed Jay – refered to it when Ethan was within earshot. Nap got tossed among them when Eth wasn't around. Or more likely they refered to it as Ethan having reached his "burnout point" or that he was "about to flameout" or that he was "due for his meltdown". The fact they had so many ways to talk around it just further drove home the reality – and the fun and games – of having a teenaged kid with M.S. She thought some of the phrases they'd put around it were a little polite. "Tantrum time" or Eth having a "terrible thirteen moment" might be more accurate description of what their late-afternoons and early evenings looked like if he didn't stop to rest.

She'd thought he wasn't going to stop to rest that day. Not with the way he was powering through the zoo and beach time – even though there'd been moments where she was pretty sure they were nearing his flameout moment. She'd been even more sure that he wasn't going to settle for his afternoon rest when Justin showed up. But even though Justin had shown up, apparently at that point visiting with them wasn't the priority. They hadn't even come back to the house with them. They'd gone over to Olive's aunt to – in Justin's words – "get that visit out of the way". Erin had seen Olive visible wince to the point she looked almost crestfallen when Justin had said that. But she hadn't said anything. It actually seemed like Olive didn't say a hell of a lot to Justin. Sometimes Erin wondered what the hell the two of them talked about. If they even talked. What they even had in common beyond going to the same high school and Henry. She supposed that counted for something. But it was no random conversation about Jack Nicholson.

At first her and Jay had debated on if they were going to sit with Eth and watch anything where it was going to be. At that point in the day, she really didn't think she could handle Hank's fascmille attempts at anything that resembled air conditioning. It was just too fucking hot. She actually didn't know how Eth wasn't having pseudo flares with how fucking hot it was. Though, she supposed they'd been pretty concscious about managing his core temperature and making sure he got opportunities to cool down. But she definitely wanted to get into A/C sooner rather than later. So if they were going to watch this thing with Eth, it was going to mean dragging him to her place, which she didn't think was a bad idea considering the heat. But she knew Hank would put up a protest about Eth being around to visit his brother and nephew. So he likely wouldn't be too supportive of her pulling him away for the evening. And she supposed that she wasn't too upset about that because she'd honestly just about met her Ethan threshold for the day. Or her whole family threhold. There was the usual drama and bullshit mixed in with the good … fun … nice moments. And even ignoring that, trailing after her little brother and her little nephew for nearly six hours in that heat – it was exhausting. She was ready to crash out – and watch Netflix. Just not with Ethan.

Unfortunately, though, in their back-and-forth on how long they were going to stay at Hank's and where they were going sleep that night (and if Ethan would be sleeping there too), Jay had started his Googling about just what this show was actually about. He'd quickly determined that it was some piece of '80s nostalogia – and at that point she'd completely lost the battle about if they were going to watch it. Now it was just a conversation about when and where – with or without Ethan, she was now going to have to endure it. Jay was such a sucker for all these late-70s, '80s and early-90s sci-fi and horror movies. It was ridiculous. Turning off the documentaries hadn't saved her from boredom, it'd just launched her into a whole different realm of boredom with an added layer of cheese.

That discovery had descended into calling about adaptions of Stephen King novels (which Jay had felt the need to point out to her that most of the movies they were talking about where actually adadptions of Richard Bachman short stories – and she'd just had to gape at this complete nerd she'd somehow ended up with. He hid it well until you started chipping at those walls and he started talking and then you realized – Grade A Nerd in his very own nerdy way. No wonder he related to Eth. She really doubted that it was just rich kid vs. poor kid that kept him from fitting in at private school even if she forced herself to ignore the rest of the baggage that was also slowly been divulged to her). Somewhere in the Stephen King movie talk they'd ended up on the Shining – which lead to Jack Nicholson. Or more accurately, it lead to Jay's frightening (and, yes, humorously) accurate impression of the "Here's Johnny!" line. Though, she also hadn't told him that, she'd just cocked her eyebrow at him and looked away. Mostly so he wouldn't see how much it'd tugged at the corners of her mouth, threatening to get a smile to pull across her face.

Instead, it'd gotten a, "Oh, c'mon, that was good."

She'd just shrugged and kept scrolling around her phone. She wasn't going to admit anything. Or encourage that type of nerdiness.

"OK. What's your favorite Nicholson movie?" Jay had asked.

She'd shrugged again. "I couldn't name another Nicholson movie."

"Liar," Jay had asserted.

"Do you think we watched a lot of TV at Bunny's house?" she put to him. "That requires power. And a television."

"You spent your teens with Voight. Don't try to convince me that he's not a Nicholson fan."

She'd shrugged.

Jay had cast her annoyed look. "Don't," he said. "Everyone likes Nicholson."

"I'm not everyone," she'd asserted.

He'd given her a thin smile and reached to still her hand, holding it on the table, gazing briefly at the ring on her ring. "That's the truth," he'd said but then his eyes had come back up to her. "But you know what … YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!" She'd just cocked her eyebrow at him again and pulled her hand away. "C'MON!" Jay protested again. "A Few Good Man. You've seen A Few Good Man."

She gave him a look. "Is that the one with Tom Cruise?"

Jay rolled his eyes. "Yes. So you'll watch Tom Cruise movies? You're secret teenaged crush?"

"No," she put flatly, going back to her phone.

"Voight likely likes him. Jerry Maguire? Show me the money?"

She cast her eyes back to him and cocked her eyebrow unimpressed. "Voight definitely does not like Tom Cruise. The guy is slightly unhinged."

"Are we talking about Cruise or Voight?" Jay quipped at her.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

He just sighed at her. "OK, we really need to work on your movie repertoire. Because Nicholson. He's classic. Chinatown? Cuckoo's Nest? Please tell me you've seen Chinatown?"

Of course she'd seen Chinatown. Who's house did he think she'd grown up in? Hank and film noir. Any old detective flick – she'd more than seen it - he had a fucking collection of them. He actually probably still had a bunch of them on VHS and you only had to log onto the Netflix in the front room to see that Hank was actually using the thing himself after Ethan was asleep. The queue was just filled with old movies.

But she was having fun poking at Jay so she'd just said, "I think I saw him in some Adam Sandler movie."

"No," he just shook his head. "No, no, no. We need to fix this now. Like now."

But then the back door had clattered open. She'd been a little surprised, thinking that Hank was already back. But she actually thought he might want to get in on his conversation. Though, Jay might shutdown when he realized that Hank had some strong opinions about some of the films he was listing off too and couple probably tip him off on a several others.

Camille had been a bit of a cinema buff. The old stuff. The real old stuff that back when she was a kid she didn't understand why the hell her and Hank would sit through them. She'd actually suspected it was a poly to get her and Justin to go to bed earlier and not come back down disrupting their alone time on the main floor. But considering Camille had been gone for years now and that Hank still put on the films to watch – just like he still sat down with his books to read – she knew it was a lot more than just a parenting tactic. It was part of their relationship. An interest they shared. Or at least something to do together that likely spurred conversations, because as much of a tough guy that Hank was, he was frighteningly well versed in a variety of other topics. You just had to be on the short list of people who he let his walls down around too to actually get to know that he had interests and knowledge beyond police work and beating the shit out of people.

Hank had an artsy side (or at least a knowledge of the arts) that he didn't like on display. Compensated with his classic car and auto-mechanically mind instead. And the Blackhawks.

But she liked that he'd introduced her to film noire. She liked some of the old detective pulp fiction he'd added to her bookshelves. She liked that Camille had books about painters and sculptors and artwork as readily available in the house as she did the textbooks and anatomy guides about fish and reptiles and lakes and oceans and waterfowl. Possibly outweighing the encyclopedia-sized histories of Chicago that filled the house – and Hank and Camille's minds. And their parents when they'd still been around.

It was the grandparents that really were a treasure trove of stories and tidbits about the evolution of the city too. Unfortunately, Erin thought she'd been too young at the time to be at an age and stage where she'd really listened and absorbed it as much as she wished she had now. Sometimes she still found herself thinking that Hank's mom or Camille's dad would know the answer to some question she had about the city – where, when, who. Though, Hank was usually just as good anymore.

But it wasn't Hank who'd appeared to loop in on the conversation. It was just Justin and he was giving her that sour look that was all she'd seen on him that day. He looked like someone had really pissed in his coffee that morning. But he always seemed to look like that when he was home. She really hoped that his face hadn't permanently creased into that scowl because it was incredibly unattractive. Even Hank fucking smiled – for the people he cared about, for a good, well-placed, well-timed joke. And if this is what Justin looked like 24/7 anymore, him being home was going to be even more frustrating and depressing than she was anticipating it to be. Not to mention it was likely scaring Henry. Sure seemed to be scaring Eth – and he'd grown up with Hank's scowl. Though, Eth seemed to draw out a lot of smiled from Hank.

"Where's Pop?" Justin put to her, casting an unimpressed look at Jay, who was giving him a just as unimpressed one right back.

Erin eyed him. "He's the on-call sector sergeant this weekend. He got called to a scene."

Justin made a snorting sound, shaking his head, and crossing his arms in the door. "And he gives me shit about having to go deal with my things for a few hours?"

"It's work, Justin," she said firmly.

"Yea, Pops is always working …," Justin muttered.

She glared at him. "Actually, he's not. He had to book a mileage weekend so he can go down for Henry's birthday and the fact he booked a week of his furlough in the middle of summer – which shockingly is a period that's in period high demand – so he could help you move. So he had to trade some of his on-call rotations. And this happened to be one he got stuck with."

"Hmm …," Justin nodded. "Yea. So Pop agrees to work the weekend that's historically the most violent in the city when we're up for a visit."

"You're so fucking selfish …," Jay muttered under his breath.

"You got a problem?" Justin glared at him.

"Yea, I do," Jay said firmly, drilling holes into Justin. "He's on-call this weekend so he can spend other weekends – weeks – with you and his grandkid. Your kid. And you're still giving him shit."

Justin snorted. "What do you know about it, Deputy Dog?

Jay allowed an amusedly annoyed sound but glared even more. "What do I know about it?" he pressed.

"Jay …," Erin pushed at him with a warning tone.

But he just cast her a firm look – one that said he wasn't shutting up this time. Wasn't going to bite his tongue. Because she'd told him to do that at Christmas and at Ethan's birthday and she'd lectured him about it before this visit too. But Jay worked on the rules of threes a lot. Third strike – and you're out. And Justin was definitely striking out where.

"What I know about it is that we," he said gesturing between him and Erin, "gave up a long weekend, where we're both actually fully off, not on-call, not on rotation, to hang around here so we could see you – and your wife and your kid. And you don't even fucking show up today. And when you do – you give all of us the usual fucking lip and attitude."

"Jay—" Erin warned more firmly.

But that time his eyes only sat on her for a moment longer before moving back to Justin again and grilling into him. "What you thinking there, Justin? That I've been around all of two minutes? What do I know about it? I know that I may have only been around two minutes but this whole little show you put on, it's already getting really fucking old. And if I feel that way after two minutes – imagine how the rest of your family feels. And maybe they're just too fucking nice to say it. But you know what? I'm not very nice."

Justin just stared at him. It was a long stare. The two of them in some sort of game of chicken that Erin didn't know she wanted to interrupt. Because there wasn't much fault in what Jay had said, even though he'd been warned against getting involved, warned against digging a hole or stepping on any toes. But maybe the whole family had danced around stepping on Justin's toes so long that they were just tripping all over reach other in the process. And they'd tripped so many fucking times they were all bruised and bloody. And just so fucking tired of it all.

So she let them glare. Let them have their silent showdown. Because she was also pretty sure that Jay would win.

"Why don't you just take a step back?" Justin finally huffed out.

Jay shrugged and rose from the table. The move seemed to surprise Justin and it was actually him who took a small step back, though, as soon as he realized he had, he secured his footing, tensing like he was readying for something. But the whole thing just made Jay let out another disgusted noise and shake his head.

"Sure," he said, "why don't I step back. And I'll step inside to cool down – in that fucking sauna when I could be home in my A/C." He moved to press by Justin, being sure to get close to him. To measure him up, to get in his face, to dare him to flinch. But those they both held a stare for a moment longer, Jay than cast her a look and said much more evenly. "I'm going to check on Eth …"

She gave a little nod and a quiet "Thanks …". Because it'd been a while and one of them should. Because it was nearing his injection time and his evening pills. Because they were going to need to get him on the go again soon to feed him the dinner that his dad had made but it looked like he wasn't going to get to enjoy with them – but that Erin and Jay would stay for anyways because they couldn't trust Justin and Olive to deal with feeding him and giving him his pills and injection and making sure he wasn't flaring in the heat. Because Jay had already noted many times that day that Eth was tremoring bad – that he'd expressed concern about it – when Erin wasn't even sure Justin had noticed it. She wasn't sure how much he'd looked at his brother. He was too busy glaring at Jay and casting her that scowl.

Jealousy? Disapproval? Self-righteous bullshit? She really didn't fucking care. She was just sick of looking at it.

"What the fuck is his problem?" Justin put to her after Jay had disappeared inside.

But she just shook her head in annoyance too and rose, heading for the door. "You," she put to him flatly. "So did you somehow miss that too, Justin?"

He just glared at her but she ignored it. She went back into the sauna too. Because she had a feeling that Olive likely needed help getting Henry settled back into the house and comfortable after his full day and visit with his great-aunt. But it didn't look like Justin was going to help in that regard either. So someone had too.

Because that was supposed to be what family was for.

But she thought Justin had somehow missed that too.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: I've been updating regularly the past few days and I know FF hasn't been bumping and I've gotten some feedback about people not getting alerts too.**

 **So these are the chapters that have been posted:**

 **Who You Gonna Call (Chapter 124)**

 **Now (Chapter 125)**

 **Breakfast Smoothie (Chapter 111)**

 **Hungry Caterpillar (Chapter 127)**

 **What You Can Offer (Chapter 130)**

 **Priorities (Chapter 131)**

 **What You've Got (Chapter 132)**

 **Your readership, reviews and feedback are always much appreciated.**


	116. Asshole Special

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 133 - Missed Memo.**

Jay gazed at Erin. She looked so content in that moment. Not distracted. Checked in. Elbows on the picnic table in the shaded shelter, gazing off in a direction of her own. Staring over at the little sandpit that had shade of its own covering all the toddler level tables that her nephew seemed fascinated with.

The little guy kept using his plastic shovel to scoop up a pile of sand from the ground and then dump it into the one of the bins on the table. Jay didn't think he was doing a spectacular job. Henry didn't exactly have enough stability or motor control or even dexterity to be completing the exercise in any efficient fashion. By the time he was dumping the sand in the raised sensory bin there wasn't much left to dump. But the kid seemed pretty committed to the process anyway. Like stubbornly committed. The couple times he'd seen Voight or Olive try to help him the kid had let out a wailing protest. Clearly didn't need or want any help on whatever project he was working on. Whatever the fuck the project was.

Moving sand from one place to another. Kinda of pointless but couldn't you say that for most projects in life? Kinda like their job. Move scum from one place to another and a lot of them just ended up with their feet back on the ground before they ended up in the place you wanted them to be – locked up. Said a lot about the Justice system. But at least Henry was getting used to that reality now. Move crap around. Watch shit fall over the edge. Pick it up again. Try again. Decent metaphor for life. But he was one. So rather than getting all philosophical about it – reality was he was just a little kid playing in the sand.

Still. It was kind of fun to watch. All of it. All the all of Henry aspect of it. He was a cute kid. Watching the rest of Erin's family interact with him was kind of cute too. Strange. Brought out different sides in them. Especially Voight. Even though Jay had gotten used to seeing the softer dad-side of him, the grandpa side was a whole different story. The guy loved his kids but he was clearly like beyond smitten with his grandson. Like a whole different person. The guy lit up with the kid. Changed the tone of his voice. Actually smiled – like pretty regularly. It was so weird.

Weird too to watch Erin with Henry. He knew Erin had a soft spot for kids. She was awesome with Eth. Not that she took that compliment well. She always brushed it aside as him just being her little brother and that's what she was supposed to do. But their relationship was so much more than that. Weirdly more too. It was such a different relationship than he had with his brother – but they had biology and fewer years between them – that he had some trouble getting it entirely.

He'd talked about it with Antonio once. Strange conversation. After a nasty case and likely too many drinks at Molly's to dull the mind a bit. But Dawson had pointed out that him and Gabby had about the same age gap. That they'd lost their parents while Gabby was still young like Eth. That it did change things. You had to be all to them and they're you're younger sibling so you're going to be fiercely protective of them anyways. That they grew up but that some aspects of that dynamic never changed. Still your little brother – or sister. Still would do anything to protect them. Make sure they're OK. Get through in the world. Find their way and are surrounded by the right people. That's your job when you've got an age gap like that and the parents are absent. Just the way it works.

Jay still wasn't sure he could relate. Wouldn't say Will had ever felt that way about his brotherly responsibilities – especially his older brother responsibilities. But, again, they didn't have more than a decade dividing them. But Eth and Justin sure did, and Jay sure didn't see the kind of relationship that Antonio was describing between the two of them or anything resembling the connection that Erin and Eth had.

So as much as he didn't know, what he did know was that as much as Erin and Eth fought like brother and sister sometimes, that Eth would look at her with these eyes that were all hers when he was trying to get her to smile. And that the kid could nurse those coy smiles out of her and laughs that sometimes made him a little jealous – of a fucking little kid – that again were all hers and all for him. And that Erin mothered Eth in a way that made Jay know that if they ever had kids, she was just going to rock it. Because she already knew that balance of being the friend and the grown-up and the mother – and the sister too. She had figured out how to do that. Somehow. By necessity.

But even beyond her own family, Jay had seen how she was with kids at work. Knew that whenever there was a kid involved that Voight usually put her on the case of managing them. Sometimes Jay didn't know how great that was. She related to some of these cases a little too much. Felt a bit too much empathy. Didn't make enough space for herself. And sometimes he thought relating to things that much, feeling others' pain that much, being their advocate so sincerely, wanting to get them justice – or revenge – to the point it could be consuming. That just wasn't good for her. or them. Or anyone. He wanted her to have her own life too. And to be able to sleep at night without it being disrupted by things she did or didn't do. Worrying too much about other's. It was a hard line to walk. He knew it. He struggled with it all the time too.

Jay didn't know if it was his military training – the things he'd seen and done – or if it was just because it was a guy. But he thought he was a lot better about the how professional distance and compartmentalization thing than Erin. Or at least he tried to convince himself he was. Sometimes he knew he was only fooling himself. The things they dealt with, you weren't ever going to be able to completely shut it off and forget about it. Distance yourself from it so much that you didn't feel it in some way or think about it sometimes. There were always going to be those cases or those taken (or not taken) actions that kept you up at night. That just followed you around for the rest of your life.

Maybe that's part of why he liked watching her with Henry. Maybe it was part of why it felt weird too. Because it was just … pure. The kid was just pure. He hadn't been through any bullshit yet. Not any real bullshit. Hopefully it wouldn't be. But that was hard to say when your dad was making a career in the army. Even in a best case scenario, it meant you were going to be an army brat. The kid would likely spend the bulk of his childhood bouncing around between bases. Crisscross across the country. New homes. New schools. Trying to make new friends. Stress and loneliness in all of that. But at least he seemed to have parents who loved him – so far. And he had a whole extended family who did too. Aunt, uncle, grandpa.

Jay knew that having that grandpa that cared about you could be your fucking lifeline when the rest of your little kid world was going to shit. That having that one person – even if your dad was a complete asshole – having a quality grandparent could really keep you afloat. Keep you going. Give you some normalcy. Sometimes it was confusing when you were little. Like why'd grandpa like you so much but your own dad hates your guts? Why's grandpa want to play with you and take you places but dad doesn't? Why's mom send you away for a week or weekend to be with grandpa and why's she look like she'd been crying (or worse) all weekend by the time you get home? Never seemed like the tears were because she missed you or was so happy to see you – like she always claimed.

Erin must've felt herself being watched and gave him a bit of a glance. He allowed a thin smile as she did.

"My mom would've liked this," he told her.

He knew he didn't talk about her much – his mom. Hardly at all. And he saw Erin's face crease with some question and some sadness at the reference. But she too managed a little smile and brought her hands down from where she'd had them clutched and snaked her arm across the table to find his hand. To squeeze it and then weave her fingers in his.

"Yeah?" she put to him. Gently but inquisitively.

"Oh, yeah …," Jay said and let his eyes drift back to the sandpit too. To Henry and to Voight and Olive who were supervising also seeming to chat a bit. Voight mostly just nodding and Jay knew likely just giving some vague acknowledgements that she'd spoken. More than likely it was a bit of an interrogation too since he had her alone without Justin around and without them within earshot to eavesdrop on the details of the shitshow that the poor girl seemed to have landed herself in. But if he ignored the fact that that was likely the context of the conversation, he knew that they – all of them – just looked like some sort of multi-generation family on a day out on the holiday weekend. A fucking real low-key day out in a community park. And that's something his mom would've liked. A lot. It was just the kind of day she would've planned – for when they could just have a day out from under his father's thumb and trying to live up to his demanded illusions. "She would've been all about this …"

And she would've. She so would've. He actually found himself having vague thoughts about if she would've wanted to come if she was still around. Maybe not yet. Might've been a little weird to have some kind of family day with his fiancée's family. Jay didn't really know what the rules were about that but he knew that his dad had his mom so beaten down that she likely would've felt like she couldn't go. That it would some how be inappropriate. Because he knew that Erin's family – Voight's family – wouldn't be his father's definition of the kind of people the family should be associating with. Not flashy enough. Jobs not prestigious enough. Pay checks not big enough. House too battered. And their Fourth of July weekend plans too mundane to acknowledge or subject themselves too. So even if Mom had wanted to come, Dad likely wouldn't have allowed it and she would've listened rather than put up a fight. Because at the end she didn't have much fight left in her anymore and Jay guessed he hadn't fought hard enough for her either. He'd just got sick of the fighting – and he'd left. He probably never should've done that.

Maybe if he hadn't done that things would be different. Maybe she'd still be here. Maybe they would've actually divorced and she would've actually gotten to live the life she wanted – and she so deserved. And if she had been nervous about coming to the park with them, he knew he probably would've convinced her otherwise. Or Erin would've. Because she would've loved Erin.

She would've told him that she always knew he was going to end up with a spitfire. And she would've told Erin that it was a good thing he did because he needed someone to keep him in line. That he had a mouth of his own but not to listen to what came out of it too much because most of the words were just a way of him saying that he needed someone to take care of him. That sometimes he forgot to be kind to himself.

"Be kind to him." It's something that he'd heard his mother crying through the walls. Something she'd scream at his father while he ripped into him again for … nothing. For existing. That she'd lecture at Will when Will teased him and fought with him and wrestled with him so hard that Jay was always the one who cried 'uncle' first. But he knew that was something that she would've said to Erin too. The only promise she would've asked for. The first question she would've asked when Jay told her about Erin or said he was ready to propose. "Is she kind to you?"

And the answer was yes. And even though he knew it was something Mom would've order of Erin herself, it wasn't something Erin needed to hear. Even though she'd caused him hurt, she wasn't unkind to him. Ever. She was unkind to herself. A lot. So maybe he heard his mom's words ring in his ears with that line more as a reminder for himself – to be kind to her. Because she deserved it as much as his mother had and hadn't had the chance to see in action and feel in a relationship. Not in her married life. Maybe in some long ago relationship from when she was a teenager.

There was a way her eyes twinkled when she talked about when she was young. About growing up in the city in the 60s and 70s. About how community was different then. About how it meant something. About the dances at the community halls and the church. The banquets and bingos and white elephant sales. The way you helped people around you. The parks and the pools in the summer and the roadtrips that grandma and grandpa took her and her sister on. Just like the ones Grandpa took him and Will away on too. Far, far away from Chicago and Canaryville and all the isolationist politics of that shithole that she'd never been able to escape no matter how much Dad might've tried. But maybe Mom had never really wanted to leave because living there had meant something to her. Maybe pulling her away – from her community, her people, her support – was what had partially killed her. Had divided the family even more. They were never going to be able to shake who they were or where they came from, no matter the veneer Dad had them paint their lives with. The community boundaries they crossed. The fancy school uniforms they put on. They were still fucking white, Catholic, Irish living in Chicago – born in Canaryville and that followed you. You didn't shake that off your back. And maybe it shouldn't be something you ever did.

And as much as Mom likely would've looked at Voight with some speculation. Austrian ancestry. Married to an Italian. Near living in Little Italy. She would've raised some eyebrows about that. Would've asked questions about who he knew and where his connections were – who his family was, how long they'd been in the city. About the only thing that would've calmed her some would be that his kids went to St. Ignatius. A nice Jesuit school. He'd leave out the part about them being there because of Voight's connections and that they weren't practicing Catholics. He'd take enough flak from her for distancing himself from the Church as it was. But he'd never told her the real reason. It likely would've killed her sooner – and more slowly. But even though she might've frowned a first glimpse, Jay thought she would've appreciated Voight's view on community and family. It might've slowly won her over.

He'd like to think Voight would've been OK with his mom coming out for the weekend too. That he probably wouldn't have made a big deal about it. That he'd get it too. And even if his mom wouldn't have wanted to come now, he thought that if him and Erin ever had kids, she likely would've been all over it. In an instant. And she'd be over there playing grandma just as much as Voight was playing grandpa. And that made him a little sad.

Erin squeezed his hand again – a bit more firmly and he let his eyes drift back to her. "You OK?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yeah …," he said. "It's a good day."

And it was a good day. He was having a good day. In a lot of ways. Even if Erin had just caught him in a bit of a melancholy moment. But maybe seeing Justin with his family and Voight as a grandpa and Erin as an aunt and Eth just being Eth this crazy fucking little kid trying so hard to be the big shot and so not knowing how. It just had Jay thinking about a lot of things. Things from the past. Things about the future. What ifs and what nows. Yesterday, today and tomorrow.

So maybe mentally it wasn't his best day. But he was having a decent day. A good one, really. It was almost surprising given the blow up at Justin the night before. Not that that had done anything in getting through his thick skull. He'd still treated him and Erin like fucking servants that night while he was supposed to be some sort of honored guest in the house.

So it was him and Erin who'd finished dinner and gotten it on the table. Only to get fucking commentary about why there wasn't corn and why the coleslaw had apple cider vinegar on it and nothing more. And why the ribs just had dry rub and not barbecue sauce. Just fucking complained. Acted like he hadn't had explained to him multiple times about Eth's dietary restrictions and that when cooking at home, they got honored and that generally when they were eating with Eth they didn't eat shit he wasn't allowed – because that was just mean. The kid had to go to school and ball practice and camp and the gym and see kids his age eating whatever the hell they wanted all the time. All day, everyday. The least the family could do was to eat a meal together once a day where everyone was eating the same thing and not bitching and moaning about it or rubbing in his face what he was missing out on. But then Justin had to still point it out to the kid and put on a show. When Jay was pretty sure that Hank had smoked the ribs all day for his son. It was likely a good thing that he wasn't there to hear the criticisms.

It'd been hard not to lash out at Justin again sitting at the table. The only saving grace was that it'd been fucking Olive who'd started reciting off research about diet as a way to manage some of the symptoms of M.S. Olive who'd tried to end Justin's onslaught by directing some questions to Eth and ultimately Erin about his diet. Erin had just given some vague one-line answers about Eth seeing a dietician who helped them with eliminating the foods and making meal plans and suggested certain supplementations or pointed out holes they had in what nutrients and vitamins Eth was getting. But Erin was mostly glaring at Justin while she recited it and just kept checking in with Eth.

Poor Eth tried to act like he was deaf. Like he didn't hear the bullshit that Justin was spouting. That he was trying to counter it by reaffirming that he thought the ribs were really good. That him and his dad had picked out hickory wood chips for the smoker but maybe next time they could do applewood and get apple butter to put on them since Justin missed BBQ sauce. Jay didn't care what Justin fucking missed and he didn't think anyone else should either. He could go and eat whatever the fuck he wanted whenever he wanted. The least he could do was try to show some appreciation for his dad making a meal he thought he'd like and trying to make it in a way the whole family could enjoy and share.

The guy was so fucking clueless. Or he just didn't care. Didn't want to see. Didn't want to grow up. Had on fucking blinders.

Still had fucking blinders on when it came time for clean-up. No offer to help. Not even to bring the plates into the kitchen. He'd just gone and sat in the front room. Even had the fucking balls to come into the kitchen where him and Erin were trying to clean up – where fucking Eth had done his fucking chore of clearing the table, which always took the kid forever on the days he was using his crutches (or needed to use his crutches) – and asked for a beer. Like they were supposed to serve him.

Erin had glared athim at that point. "There's the fridge," she said with a gesture.

The guy had glared back at her in a way that almost got Jay to rip into him again but he'd gone over and looked in it before casting his eyes back at her and shutting the door roughly. "There's none," he stated flatly.

Erin shrugged. "Then check the basement, Justin," she said.

"I did earlier. There's none down there," he said with such fucking annoyance.

"Then I guess your dad didn't buy beer," she said. Justin just looked at her like this was the biggest inconvenience of his life. "He doesn't drink beer, Justin."

"You drink beer," he put to her.

She stopped the dishes at the point and faced him more directly. "I don't drink here," she said.

Which was pretty much true. They were over at Voight's a lot anymore and since the whole banana peel thing, Erin didn't do much drinking at Hank's. Had a couple around the holidays. Had one after surviving Ethan's birthday but those were about the only times that Jay could think of that she'd been offered a drink by Voight or that she'd sought out her own at the house. If they were going to drink, they did it at Molly's and even then she never had much anymore. Lately they hadn't been even going into Molly's and she hadn't had beer in her fridge for post-coital rehydration in a while either.

"I drink here," Justin said. Again, like it was clearly all about him and no one in the house had bowed down to his presence enough by neglecting to have the fridge fully stocked with cold beer for him.

Erin gestured at the door. "Then go buy some beer, Justin," she said. Her own annoyance was seeping off her.

But the guy had just huffed – in a way that was so much more fucking annoying than when Eth made the sound. "I'm going to go help with Henry's bath," he'd said instead – when that was likely something he should've been doing in the first fucking place – and stormed off.

Jay had looked at Erin. A clear 'what the fuck' look. But she'd just shook her head and made some lame excuse – again for Justin – about him never being very good about helping in the kitchen. How that happened, Jay didn't know, because Eth had pretty clear fucking chores and responsibilities that involved the kitchen and food preparation and helping out with clean up and groceries. And Voight was a hard-ass about rules and chores. But Justin clearly seemed to think he was some sort of special case now. Prodigal son? More like prodigal fucking asshole. It was like he thought he was better than the rest of the family. Above them in some way.

And that just so rubbed Jay in the wrong way. It made him think of his father. But it also made him think of Will – in their teens, in their twenties. Though, something about that revelation while he was standing there and drying dishes to put away - in a home that he shouldn't even know where the dishes went but did – made him understand a lot about Justin, he thought. Not that it made him like him anymore.

It'd seemed like they were going to be stuck there for hours, though, and at that point neither of them could handle it. Not how hot the house was. Not having to wait on Justin or listen to his fucking monologues. So Erin had thankfully ended up calling Voight – and after multiple tries, he fucking picked up the phone and agreed to let them take Eth to her place. Because, yeah, he was going to be longer, and no, he didn't trust Justin or Olive administering Eth's nighttime meds – or getting him to bed at a decent hour so he survived the rest of the weekend. And Eth had already proved the previous weekend that he was still way too timid about doing his injection himself and tried to take his pills when no one would say – which meant delaying taking them. So him being left alone with his fucking almost twenty-five year old brother who was a father wasn't an option.

So that sucked but it was for the best. Jay didn't want to leave the kid along in that sauna turned gong show either. Even though he was pretty done with the Voight family for the day by the time him and Erin had finished cleaning up and packed Eth up and told Justin and Olive the plan. The plan hadn't gone over that well. There'd been some comments about Voight thinking Eth needed a night in A/C but that his grandson didn't. Some bullshit about a hotel – and who should be paying for it. Just retarded. Justin had ended up taking Eth – and the dog – out to the car while Erin dealt with it. Hadn't planned on taking the dog but Jay also wasn't sure that Justin could handle remembering to let the dog out for his late-night piss or filling up his water bowl for the night either with it being so hot. Beyond that, he wouldn't even with it on Bear to have to put up with that bullshit for a moment longer. So the mutt could get air conditioning and quiet for the night too. Fuck it.

Unfortunately – but so not surprisingly – Justin was still putting on a fucking show when they'd gotten back in the morning. They were there at eight and the guy was already pissing and moaning about why they were getting on the go that "early". Voight was giving him some line about crowds and temperatures. But it was just such further indication that Justin so didn't get it. Or operated on his own other planet.

Seriously. Jay had slept over at Voight's house enough times that he knew that it didn't matter what day of the week it was – if you had it booked off, if you were booked for a night shift, or you'd just pulled a double – your ass was expected to be out of bed within about sixty-minutes of his. Work days it was more like thirty. And Voight seemed to get up around 5:30. Weekends he might "stay in bed" until like 6. So, yeah, you were up at the crack of dawn in his house. And even if you thought about staying in bed, there wasn't a fucking point. He started his day and he didn't fucking tiptoe around about it. You could hear him in the kitchen. You could hear him out back barking at the dog taking its morning shit. Sometimes he'd get sick of waiting for movement and he'd get started with the fucking vacuum or the washing machine – being sure to officially wake up the whole place.

Not that you weren't awake the moment Voight got in the shower. Because the guy didn't go downstairs without showering, shaving and dressing first and as soon as anyone turned on that shower all bets were off about sleeping. It sounded like it was back under fire in Afghanistan the pipes rattled so fucking much. It had seriously caused him to bolt awake thinking he'd had some sort of flashback nightmare the first few times he slept at the house. Even now when it jolted him out of sleep like that he had some mornings where he had to make himself do some grounding exercises to remind himself where he was. Not that he'd tell Erin that. It'd sound a little too PTSD-y and she might say something to Voight and that wasn't something he wanted to get into with the guy. Not as his future father-in-law and definitely not as his boss when he had to do a high-pressure job with guns that saw him taking a whole lot of kill shots without thinking about it too much. Didn't need any more psych sessions. Already had to go do that song and dance on a more regular basis than he'd like because he didn't play no sticky-finger when it came to pulling the trigger.

Erin wasn't awake ever to tell anyway. The pipes might wake her up but she seemed to have developed a coping mechanism with it. Was able to block it out. Or at least she was able to groan, roll over, pull a pillow over her head and sort of pretend to drift back to sleep. Eth seemed pretty skilled at that too. Jay supposed that to them it was just Dad in the shower – a sign of safety and security – not the sound of fire raining down on you. So he supposed it made sense they could pretend like they didn't hear it.

Didn't really matter that Eth slept through it, though, because the kid was on a schedule with his medication. A lot of that shit had to be taken at the same time every day and it had to be spaced out a certain amount and it had to be taken with food or without food. There'd been a fucking spread chart on the fridge when Voight and Erin were still working on learning and understanding all his medications in the first few months after his diagnosis. Now it was a fucking weekly activity of Voight sitting down and sorting out all the kids pills in pill boxes. But him and Erin both still had some alarms set on their phones to go off every fucking day to remind themselves to get the kid to take his pills or go give him his injection. Jay had a couple of them on his phone too since he was over there some afternoons.

The reality was, though, that even on weekends – on a fucking holiday – Eth got his first set of meds at 6:30 and there was a battle to shove some food down his throat a long with them. So that was the latest Eth was ever up. He was up. He was dressed. He was fed. He was on the go. And with Eth that meant his "good period" was usually until about 11 or 11:30. By that point the kid usually need some kind of rest. Downtime. Get some food into him. And if you didn't do that, you were going to be in big trouble by about 1. Did do that and usually he'd be fairly manageable until about two or three. Then again, the kid needed a break. Usually a real one at that point. Let him lay flat for an hour. Take his screentime. Take a nap. Just get away from the sound and noise. Get him some place cool. Deal with any aches and pains he had going on. And get him off his feet. You do that and usually by 4 or 5, you'd have a tolerable little human in front of you again. Sort of downhill slide quickly. Again by about seven, Eth was done for the day even though he didn't officially have his lights out until like nine. Seemed like nine-thirty a lot of nights lately with it being summer and him having games and practices in the evening. But even with having the official lights out time that his dad was also a hard-ass about – there were a whole lot of nights that Jay had been over in the evening that he'd seen Eth drag his ass upstairs on his own accord sometimes as early as like seven-thirty-eight.

So there was a real fucking limited time period to have Eth out and about and him actually enjoying the activity in a way that meant you could almost enjoy the time too. That period in the morning was usually your best shot. If you were able to get him to stop and to eat, you might be able to extent it a bit into the afternoon. But really, there was about a four hour window that yielded any sort of enjoyment for anyone and not just a whole lot of frustration and battle of the wills and the kid either turning into a little a-hole, having a complete meltdown, or worse him (or you letting him) pushing himself too far and then all of you paying for it for days after because he'd destroyed himself.

So yeah. Getting up and on the go at 8 a.m. on the day they were going out seemed pretty fucking reasonable to Jay. But apparently Justin was still so fucking checked out – or so fucking self-absorbed – he still didn't realize any of this. Was still busting his dad's balls about it and still saying this shit in an arena that his little brother could hear, which just again went world's toward making the kid feel like shit. Some sort of inconvenience, which again, reality check, Eth was a big fucking inconvenience. But if Justin would stop fucking whining about it and spouting self-centered bullshit about it, he'd see that the kid was worth the inconvenience.

And Jay just didn't understand anyways why getting up and on the go for 8 a.m. was such a fucking big deal when you already had an infant. He was pretty fucking sure that Henry wasn't letting no one sleep-in – whether it was a holiday weekend or you were "on holiday". But Jay also got the impression that Justin didn't do a whole lot of dealing with that. That that was Olive's "job". Which was just such fucking bullshit. It made him wonder just what kind of man he was. But he thought he had a pretty good idea of what kind of man he was. He'd spent enough time under the same roof as two guys who carried those kinds of chips on their shoulder. Who were all about the show. That were all ego and all chest-puffing.

Will grew up. He got a fucking reality check. They'd lost Mom in the midst of that and it'd still taken a good two … three … seven … years for that to happen. But it'd happened. Apparently it hadn't happened yet for Justin. Apparently losing his mom, paralyzing a teenaged kid, going to jail, boot camp, the army, marriage, a kid, a sick little brother. None of that was driving home for him yet that life was short and that you aren't the center of the fucking universe. Maybe he'd never get that. Or maybe he'd get that after he got deployed and lost some friends right in front of his eyes. Or maybe when you were as self-fucking-centered as Justin seemed to be nothing really ripped you out of that little universe you were fucking rotating in.

He didn't fucking know. Because Erin defended him. She spewed off all sorts of crap about it being hard growing up as Hank's son. About how Justin tried to be the tough guy but that he really is just a nice guy. That he got made fun of a lot at Iggy's. That he tried to hard to fit in and then when he didn't, he just started the tough guy act. He tried to act like he didn't care. That he was his own person and didn't need anyone else. But he needed other people. That it was hard for him when she came home to suddenly go from an only child to having an older sibling, when she wasn't exactly a cake walk when she arrived in the Voights' house and needed a lot of time and attention that was suddenly stripped from him. That he could've made her life a living hell but he didn't. But that he struggled more when Eth was arrived on the scene and he really wasn't the only then. That he felt even more isolated and alone. That it just came at a bad time. When he was entering his teens and starting a Ignatius. That he just started distancing himself from everyone and acting out and making bad choices. That he'd lost his mom and his brother was so sick and that Hank had spun out some in all of it. That Erin had to take care of Justin. That she had to move back home while Eth was in the hospital and Voight was hardly coming home. That it all just went off the rails. That it was a lot for a seventeen year old kid to deal with. That none of them got a grip on it soon enough and it just turned into a mess. That it was just taking a while for Justin to find his feet. That he was trying really hard with the army and the signal corps thing. That he was really trying to do right by Olive and Henry and that said a lot. That Olive seemed like a really nice girl and a really great wife. That Henry lit up when he saw Justin so that must mean he was doing something right there too.

OK. Sure. Jay didn't agree with about 95 per cent of those explanations. Because they didn't sound like explanations to him. Other people went through that kind of shit and weren't the Grade A assholes that Justin was. In his opinion. So they weren't explanations. They were just excuses and he got the sense that Erin had been spouting excuses for Justin for so long that she'd started to believe them herself. Even though Justin had fucking hurt her too. That he'd been an asshole to her too. But let's forget about that and just go straight to the heart of the issue. What the fuck was his excuse for treating Eth like dirt? For making the kid feel like shit regularly? Do diminish him? To bring him down? He'd nearly lost his brother. You'd think that would've rattled some sense into him. But of course it didn't. Nothing else had so why would that. Still, you'd think as an adult having your little brother coping with traumatic brain injury meant you'd at least try to be patient and understanding. Maybe you'd try to make things a bit easier on what's left of your family by not being a fucking jagoff. But – apparently – also too much to expect. OK. Maybe too much to expect out of a seventeen-year-old kid (again, not something Jay completely agreed with, but let's pretend) but so shouldn't be when he was fucking nearly twenty-years-old and driving around drunk. Should be even easier to expect that a fucking twenty-three – nearly twenty-four – year-old man should've been able to find some way to cope with his little brother getting diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. That you could educate yourself and not be a dillhole. Be supportive of the kid. And do your best to support your family even if you weren't in the same state at them. And, for God's sake, if you can't handle that then at least don't turn everything into a shitshow when you do come home for a "visit".

But he'd bit his tongue – hard – while they helped with loading up the vehicles. It'd been then that Jay had realized that the real source of the fucking whining was likely that Justin was hung-over. That he'd smelled like a bar. That he looked like he'd been up all night – and not because they were sleeping in Voight's sauna and the baby had been crying. Because he'd been out carousing – or whatever the fuck he did with his 'fellas' – again.

Justin being in town really seemed to have very little to do with visiting his family. And, Jay supposed that pissed him off more, since him and Erin had given up their long weekend plans when they once again got a delayed notification that Justin was going to be there. And, yeah, Justin being there meant that Erin wanted to be around to see Henry and to just give Ethan some extra stability. Because as much as she defended Justin, she clearly knew he was a complete dickwad to Ethan. And the kid didn't deserve that. Especially since with Eth, Fourth of July seemed up there with Christmas. Not that year, though. Since even Ethan seemed a little timid about Justin's visit. Had asked for him and Erin to take him up to the cabin too. But that just wasn't going to be something that happened. Not for any of them. They just had to power through.

And if they could power through – Justin sure as fuck could suck it up and do his part too. But that seemed to be another memo he missed.

They'd ended up taking all three vehicles, which Jay thought was a little bit overkill. But Justin apparently wanted his own wheels to bail. He'd phrased it around Henry but Jay really wasn't buying that it had anything to do with Henry – not with the kind of protest he was putting up about the planned activity. Voight needed his own car since he was on-call and him and Erin hadn't been invited to ride with Justin and Olive, which Jay was OK with. Because he really wanted to have the opportunity to bail if it reached the point that he was ready to punch Justin in the face. Not that he didn't think the guy didn't deserve it. He just thought that breaking his face might have implications for his job and his engagement. So he'd prefer not to beat the guy senseless, as much as he thought someone needed to do that for him.

Erin had been in a bit of a mood on the drive over too. It was some park in the western suburbs.

"The 'burbs bore me," she'd muttered.

"Mouse's sister lives out this way," Jay had provided. Because technically the whole weekend was a bit of a bore – he didn't think the park location had anything to do with it. It's just when they could be up at the cabin sleeping, canoeing, swimming, reading, fishing, fucking … well, family time just didn't really compare.

"Oh, yeah?" Erin had given him a glance from the road. At least they were zipping through the drive. Apparently they were early enough to avoid the crowds or people in the burbs really did go away for their holiday weekends. "He spending the weekend with them? Should call and see if they want to come out too."

Jay just grunted and gazed out his passenger window. "They were spending part of the weekend with Erica's family," he said. "I don't know what day was what."

"Meeting the parents?" Erin cocked her eyebrow.

"Parents, siblings, nieces and nephews," Jay muttered.

"That's a big step …," Erin said, giving him a more serious look.

"Yea … no kidding …," Jay acknowledged.

"He good with it?" she asked, shifting her eyes back to the road.

Jay shrugged. "Seemed to be. Mouse can be pretty charming."

"When he's not twitching," Erin said flatly.

"Yea … well, I told him to hold off on lighting up until after the introductions," Jay said.

"Won't that make him more twitchy?" Erin asked.

Jay shrugged. "Likely but still likely best to lay off the weed until after he shake's the dad's hand."

"You don't think her dad wants to her about the benefits of medicinal Mary Jane for PTSD?" Erin teased.

"Does any dad want to hear boyfriend, weed and PTSD used in the same set of sentences?" Jay put to her.

Erin cast him a look. "Erica knows, right?"

Jay sighed and leaned against the window a bit more. "She knows enough," he allowed.

Because he didn't want to get into a conversation about why weird, twitchy Mouse, who'd had a girlfriend all of about six months, but was able to talk to her more about some of this stuff than he was to Erin. The easy answer – that wasn't so simple – was that Mouse had had a lot more therapy than him and seemed more open to going through that whole process. That maybe he needed it more to come back from where he was. But Jay wasn't much for having his head shrunk. Forget dealing with what he'd seen, done, experienced in the Rangers – it was inevitable going to lead to some shrink trying to delve into his childhood. Into his relationship with his father. With his brother. With what had happened to him. And what that meant for him as a human being. As an adult. As a man. And those were just things he didn't think he ever wanted to delve into it. Some things were best just left in the past.

But he could feel Erin's eyes move from the road to him again. To set on him. To do that psychoanalysis of him that she was better at than he wanted to admit to himself. Because she'd been through some shit too. Sometimes he thought the reason they worked was because they'd both survived such shit. He wasn't sure they would work if she hadn't. Because he didn't know how to relate to 'normal' people and their 'normal' lives. Whatever the fuck that meant. But he did know that his normal sure didn't seem to be what most people's were and it hadn't been for a very long time.

"He doesn't actually still toke on a giant dubbie, does he?" she asked, clearly sensing that he didn't want to go down the other avenues her line of questioning had opened. Or at leas that they weren't in the right circumstances to start prodding in the direction. Not when they'd be pulling into the parking lot sooner rather than later.

"Only on special occasions," Jay cast her a thin smile for the out. "Don't think meeting Erica's family constitutes as that." Erin grinned a bit and went back to watching her driving. "He's got a vaporizer," Jay allowed. "But mostly does the oil. Just straight."

"Seems to help him, though …" Erin said. "He's seemed really good lately."

Jay shrugged. "I guess," he allowed. "He mostly takes it at night, though. Unless he's having a real episode. He comes across as really stoned when he takes it But I guess with taking it at night, he sleeps most of that off and he usually keeps him pretty level during the day."

"And Erica knows that too?"

Jay sighed and shrugged. "I'd assume so. Don't think he's skipping out on the dope just to get laid."

She cast him another look. "Maybe it's a good excuse not to stay the whole night …"

"Mouse isn't like that," Jay muttered and pointed at a vacant spot in the parking lot. It was no where near the spots he'd seen Voight claim and it looked like Justin was still searching. But an empty space was an empty space by the looks of it. Because by the looks of it, the place was popular.

But as soon as they got everyone out of the car and unpacked and carted over to the entrance path, Jay could see exactly why Voight had picked this park. Exactly why he'd listened to some bullshit Justin was mouthing off about having his balls busted about looking at places in Cicero only for his dad to drag them across the city to go to "some park". Why Voight had just kept saying to Eth "you'll like it" when the kid had been doing some teen-aged whining about not getting to the beach for a second day in a row. Why Voight had ignored Erin's commentary about hating the burbs and hating making the drive when Voight lived within walking distance of five parks – two of them pretty decent.

But this was no urban Chicago park. You didn't get parks like this in the city. Sure, there were some nice parks in Chicago. Some great facilities. Some great amenities. Some good community programming. But expect for right in the core, everything was getting pretty dated. This was so sparkling and new looking, that Jay wasn't even sure how Voight knew about it. This wasn't going to be one of those places that he had some little anecdote about taking the kids to when they were little or it being his wife's favorite picnic spot. It was just another moment that proved, instead, that Voight knew the city inside out. Knew the way it was changing and shifting. And he kept his finger on the pulse of it. Even for something like a park in one of the neighboring burbs. Though, it might've had more to do with knowing about where the money came from for this particular burb to afford a park like this.

But Jay quickly decided that he didn't really care the how or the why Voight knew about the place. What he cared about – what he saw – was a fucking father he understood the needs of his family well enough that he'd picked a place that made enough sense that everyone would have a decent day.

The place had fields and a picnic table shelter. Indoor bathrooms and change rooms. A little community center that had A/C blasting in addition to a canteen and some indoor seating in the cool. A "nature trial" that had a fishing pond. A fucking 36-hole mini golf course. A disc gold course. A sandpit. Two playgrounds – one for the little ones and one for the big obnoxious ones. And a splash pad. Only it was less of a splash pad and more of a miniature water park. A water playground, maybe.

Sure, there'd been an entrance fee. But it was a holiday weekend and they needed to pay for this shit some way. And at four bucks for the adults and a buck for the kids, could you really complain? Well, could you if you weren't Justin. Even Justin didn't have reason to complain since Voight had the wad of cash out to pay for everyone even before they got to the little booth to get their wristbands.

The cost was worth it, though. And as much as Voight had likely picked it because it was a decent place for a family day. Decent place for Henry to get to play around. But it'd been abundantly clear that it'd also been picked so that Eth would come away from it happy. That he'd be entertained. That there were easy, accessible bathrooms for bathroom emergencies and change rooms with space for if Eth needed to change clothes or decided to change into his bathing suit. That there was lots of shade and seating. And that there were opportunities to cool the kid down inside and outside, for if Eth was going a thousand miles an hour wanting to try and do everything, which Jay knew he would. When he warmed up to the idea of the park.

See the thing with Eth was that he was constantly looking to others to measure how he was supposed to act or interact with things. For some sort of reference point on what was cool. What was expected of him. How he should view the world. How to be 'normal'. It was part of what feed into his hero worship of Voight. It was pretty fucking clear. He did a whole lot with Erin too – especially with measuring the cool factor of something. In deciding what was hip and trendy, which was funny since Erin wasn't exactly hip or trendy. She was her own special kind of weird and as much as Jay didn't want to admit it, because it said the same or worse for him, but some of her tastes when it came to movies and television and music were kind of dated – and dating herself. So they were pretty much teaching Ethan how to be older than his years in some of his tastes and interests. He was some weird combination of a '90s kid and a 50-year-old man wrapped up in a damaged teenager's head in a body that looked like that of a ten-year-old. Basically, he was this incredibly awesome little freak when you got to know him and his filter – and you learned to filter him on your own too. Take the good with the bad.

But Justin hadn't learned to do any of that. And he hadn't seemed to have clued in that Eth mirrored those around him in deciding his behaviors and attitudes. And when Justin was one of the people around – he often seemed to decide he was going to put on a bit of a show for his brother. To try to be like him. So if Justin was pissing and moaning – Eth did too. So there'd been a bit of an attitude problem when they first arrived. This shit about it only having things for little kids and how it was too crowded and how they'd driven so far for this when they could've just gone to the beach. He was just mirroring Justin's posturing.

But Erin and Jay knew that the best way to counteract Ethan's attitude problem was to express sudden enthusiasm about whatever it was they were stuck doing. Sometimes that was hard. Jay wouldn't say he was a particularly enthusiastic individual. Neither was Erin. Passionate might be a better word for her. Maybe driven for him. But enthusiastic? Not so much. And could you really get enthusiastic about a splash pad/water playground? Well, they had. Because they had to.

Erin had indicated she was going to change into her swimsuit stat after they'd claimed a picnic table. That she wanted to get down that slide before there was a line. And even though mustering up enthusiasm about the splash pad might've been hard, Jay didn't have any trouble getting on-board with the idea of Erin getting into her swim gear. So he'd been more than happy to put on his little show too. And with the two of them swaying the coolness factor about the activity, Eth had swayed too and obediently come along to change into his bathing suit.

He'd still hesitated a bit about whether he was really supposed to be in the splash pad area even though the sign at the entrance clearly indicated age 14 and under. Technically it was only supposed to be one adult per kid in the area but it hadn't been busy enough yet for them to really listen to it. So him and Erin had taken off to the couple little – and rather lame – slides and Eth had trailed after them. After that was out of the way, and he was wet, then whatever hesitations he had about the place seemed to diminish. He was all in. Spraying water cannons at them. Standing under the tipping bucket. Going over and helping Henry fill his little plastic bucket at some of the flower sprinklers and smacking their hands over the geysers. Eth started goofing around for Henry's attention in this little area where the water was randomly spouting up from holes out of the ground and Henry just started chasing madly after him on his chubby baby legs, giggling like mad. It'd been cute. And it'd given him and Erin a break so he could goof around with her. She was not a fan of the tipping bucket and not knowing when it was going to fall and dump water on them but he'd managed to drag her over and hold her under it until it completely drenched them both and she'd managed to squirm away.

"I'm going to get you, Halstead," she accused, trying to whip her matted hair away from her face.

He shrugged. "You've already got me. And I already sleep with one eye open."

She just rolled her eyes. She'd ultimately ended up stealing Henry's bucket – while trying to look like she was being a good, contentious aunt doting on her nephew. But instead she'd confiscated the thing, filled it with fucking cold water from the drinking water fountain and had snuck up on him while he was working with Ethan to get all these valves turn on this pipe system in an effort to divert the water through the pipes to get it spraying at the other guy. He'd been into it. Eth was figuring out the sequencing and routing of the pipes and the on-off mechanism way quicker than him and Jay didn't like losing. So he'd been in combat mode and distracted and she'd fucking pulled back his trunks and dumped the ice water down them.

"You Fu—" he'd spun around at her and managed to stop himself before it got out of his mouth. Not necessarily because he was in public, surrounded by little kids but because she had this shit-eating grin on her face and she'd done almost too girlie of squeal at his reaction and had taken off. So he'd chased after her. Unfortunately in their darting around the splash pad, though they'd managed to avoid trampling anyone, they did manage to splash Henry unexpectedly in his face and he hadn't been too happy with them.

They'd received another look of death from Justin, even though Erin had immediately tried to scoop Henry up and offer apologies. Justin had grabbed him from her, which just freaked the kid out more and sent him wailing louder where if Justin had just let Erin hold the kid for all of fifteen seconds and get back on water level with him at the sprinkler it would've all been forgotten. Instead Justin's reaction had effectively given the kid a reason to have a meltdown. And it'd been Justin giving them a lecture about their maturity level and Voight telling them to take it down a notch.

Bit of a piss off. But the point was that by the time they took a break from the splash pad, Eth had dropped any pretense about the park trip being lame or him being too old to take part in any of the activities. He'd been gunning to explore more of the park when they were done their picnic lunch. He'd asked about going over to see the mini putt.

Jay and Erin had been down with that. Sounded fun. Less fun – Justin suddenly decided to take an interest in his brother and tag along. Only it had quickly become clear that his interest had been again in rubbing in his brother's face that he was "different".

Eth was using his crutches by the afternoon. To Jay the wobble in his legs was visible – even on the crutches. But the kid had had a long day the day before. Been active that morning. And it was really starting to warm up again now that the sun was nearly the highest, brightest, and hottest it would be in the sky. Eth needed to be on his crutches. But Justin had decided to make some dumb-ass remark about how was he going to golf with the crutches.

Eth had looked at him like he was the retarded and made a smart-ass remark about using one of them as a club. It'd earned a smile out of him and Erin. But Justin hadn't smiled. Instead he'd followed it up with a commentary about the course charging to play after they'd already charged them to come in the park.

"Hope you brought your allowance," Justin had said and Jay had watched how that had immediately knocked the wind out of Eth. The way he'd shrunk by the mention of it. Because it was only three bucks per person to play fucking 36 holes of mini putt – but that was twelve bucks for the four of them and basically a week's allowance for the kid.

"I'll pay," Jay had quickly interjected.

"He wants to do it," Justin had said, "he should pay for it."

Erin had glared at him. "He shouldn't have to pay for all of us," she put to her brother.

"If he's going to be golfing with his crutch, I think he should be paying for all of us," Justin had said.

Erin gaped at him. "He was joking, Justin! Because it was a ridiculous comment. They come off."

Justin had looked at her and crossed his arms. "Look at the backlog. It will take forever when he's already going to take forever."

"Then leave," Erin had spit at him.

Justin had stood there for a long moment but then had left – heading back over to the picnic shelter. Likely to tell some good story about them not wanting him around. When to Jay it sure looked like he'd put in some lax effort to spend some time with Ethan so he could say he had to his dad but had set it up real quick so he wouldn't actually have to participate.

And then Ethan had looked like he hadn't even wanted to participate.

"I'll slow everyone down," he lamented.

"Ethan," Erin had gestured at the course, "there's five-year-olds out there. It's not you who's going to be slowing people down."

"It's too expensive," he'd said. "I can't afford it."

Jay had sighed hard at that. "I said I'd pay."

Because he would. Because – again – he'd been around long enough that he sort of got Voight's rules about money and about when he stepped in to pay for things for the kids. That the whole allowance and savings jars was more of a lesson about the value of money and the responsibilities it came with and general budgeting. It wasn't some exercise in making the kid pay for everything under the sun. He still thought it was way too complicated and showed that Voight had a bit of a stick up his ass. But he'd also seen that Voight wasn't unfair about it. He'd seen both Voight and Erin pull out their cash and pay for things for the kid. He'd seen them tell him off and tell him to dig out his own money too. And doing a three dollar activity on a day they were spending as a family when multiple people were participating in the activity – that's something Voight would pay for. It's not something he'd tell the kid he was responsible for. Maybe if he was going off with his friends. But not a fucking family activity.

But Ethan had just kept shaking his head and looking sad and embarrassed. So instead they'd settled on renting some Frisbees and going out and trying the disc golf course. Because that was cheaper and Justin wouldn't be able to tell on him for them paying for it and that he'd pay them back. It was dumb. Jay didn't need the kid's three bucks. It was so fucking stupid.

They hadn't really known what they were doing despite reading the rules at the beginning of the course. But it probably was a decent choice over the mini golf. At least it wasn't anywhere near as crowded and there was some shade along the way. But it was a fair amount of walking to get through the nine holes … or baskets.

It was pretty fun. They'd gone the general hang of it and developed some of their own rules – just like the three of them seemed to do with just about everything. They just had their own rules to manage their little sub-unit in the family unit. To define themselves and whatever the fuck their relationships were with the kid and to set the rules and guidelines for what was expected out of each other within it. Friends. Babysitters. Augments guardians. Quasi-older siblings. Jay didn't really know but he'd stopped trying to define it. Just tried to work within what they had and most of the time it seemed to work – even if sometimes him and Erin both needed to put on their bad-ass voices with the kid. But they hadn't needed to do it on the course. They'd just thrown the discs. Scored points in a game that they didn't know how to score. And it'd been OK. Just like most of the shit him and Erin had navigated with Eth over the year.

Walking back to the picnic shelter, they'd gone passed the older kid playground. It was more of an obstacle course than a playground. Eth had lit up. Especially seeing the zip line running down the hill they were cresting over. He'd thought that would be a good way for him to get down. But with the wobble in his legs and the tremor in his arm by then – with the time of the day they were nearing – Erin had put the kibosh on that. Immediately.

Eth had sulked a bit and given some tone and attitude while they came the rest of the way down the embankment and back to the toddler area and the shelter but by then they were close enough they could dump him off with Voight for his turn of parenting and they'd gone to take a break at the picnic table. Rehydrated after being out under the beating sun. Refueled a bit on the leftovers in the cooler that just proved that as much of a dad Voight was, he was also a mom. Or as Erin put it he was becoming his mom. Some old Austrian grandma heavily influenced by an old Italian grandma.

And revisiting that comment – that joke that she made that would make Voight bristle when she said it – had just made Jay again think about how good Justin had it and how he didn't even know it. That he'd grown up with parents who cared about him. A dad who really cared about him – still now, as an adult, even after all his fuck-ups. A dad who was really fucking invested in his kids and trying to do right by them even if he was a fucking hard-ass and tight-ass a lot of the time. That he might've lost his mom but that he had a dad who was still trying to fill some of those gaps for his family the best he could. And that all of that said a lot about the kind of dad Voight was even if he wasn't a particularly easy person to grow up under. Even if he cast a long shadow and could be a little overbearing. At least he was fucking there. He tried.

And it was then that he realized why this wasn't enough for Justin. That he was living in some delusion that all of this – life – it was supposed to be more. That being in a nice park doing some corny-ass shit wasn't enough. That it didn't indicate he'd made it or was positioned in a way of some importance or prominence in the city or the army or just life. That all he saw was just a park. He wasn't seeing the people there. He wasn't seeing how that day even happening – in a multi-generational family unit – was more than enough. It was a whole lot more than a whole lot of people could hope for. A whole lot more than a whole lot of people had.

And it was more than enough. It was fucking perfect. And the guy had his head shoved so far up his ass, he couldn't see it.

"Pop! Pop!" the guy's voice suddenly cried out and Jay was pulled out of his thoughts. Erin had jerked next to him too, her hand tightening around his and then loosening, as he knew they were both instinctively scanning to see where the yelling was coming from.

And there he was up on the top of the embankment where the obstacle course was and even at that distance, Jay could see the wild, deer in headlights eyes on the guy. The panic. And it was clear Voight had seen it too because he had shoved Henry into Olive's arms and he'd gone bolting for the hill.

"Ethan ...," Erin had sputtered and started to scramble from the table herself.

Jay was up and away from the bench too. Quicker than her and sprinted so fast that he'd caught up to Voight despite his head start. That he'd gotten to that playground just as Voight was crouching down to the crumpled, shaking form of Ethan next to some spinning, climbing apparatus. Justin just standing there with his hands at his head in continued panic.

"Ethan, Ethan," Voight kept saying to the kid but the kid was basically non-responsive. The eye lids that Voight was pulling up where revealing dilated and unfocused eyes. "Are you OK?"

"Dizzy, dizzy," was about the only stuttered word that the kid was getting out as he tremored like mad. All color had drained from his face.

"What happened?" Erin panted with dismay filling her whole face as she got to them, casting a look at Justin's frantic, guilty pacing at the scene.

"He was just climbing," Justin said.

"Climbing?" Erin spat at him.

Justin sputtered and gestured. "I spun it…"

Erin's eyes bolted to the structure and Voight's eyes shifted there momentarily. "YOU SPUN IT?" she yelled at him.

"He … he wanted me to …" Justin said.

"Are you a fucking idiot?" Jay pressed at him.

"He wanted to do the course," Justin said, staring at Hank's efforts to try to calm the kid.

"Erin …," he nodded at her. "Call a bus."

"A bus?" Justin had sputtered. "But … he's alright, right? He just … he just fell."

Hank glanced at the thing again, gazing up the structure. "How high was he?"

Justin's face sunk. "The top …,"

"THE TOP?" Jay felt his temper flare and Justin looked at him. "Did you not see how much he was tremoring? How he can't even stand on his legs at this point in the day? Or you blind or are you just that fucking stupid?"

Justin glared at him. "You took him—"

"WE PLAYED FRISBEE WITH HIM!" Jay yelled. "We told him he couldn't do the fucking obstacle course! And then you bring him up here and now –" he looked down at Ethan's shaking. The kid wasn't there right then. He was non-communicative.

"Did you see if he hit his head on the way down?" Hank asked.

Justin just turned back, gaping at his brother. "I … I don't know …"

Jay shook his head hard. "If he's fucking hurt, if he's going to be stuck in the hospital again because you—"

"If what?" Justin pressed at him, puffing his chest again, glaring.

And that was enough. It was all enough. It was enough yesterday. It was enough at Eth's birthday. It was enough at Christmas. It was enough with every Sunday phone call. And every lack of returned call or returned text and every fucking disappointment and hurt that Jay had seen the kid put through in the past year when he knew that the kid had been put through twelve years more than that at the hands of his brother.

So he grabbed his lapels, pulled him right to his face so he was nearly growing in it. He wanted to get in his face, he wanted to puff his chest. So he'd get right there. He'd puff his face against him and he'd see who was the tough guy.

"Jay—" Erin warned – an edge to her voice as she stepped forward with the phone pulled from her ear, holding out a hand trying to order him to stop.

But Jay ignored her. Didn't even cast her a glance. Didn't break his efforts at drilling holes in Justin. "Then I'll show you the world of hurt Eth goes through every day," he said, and Justin struggled against his grip but that just made Jay pull him tighter, closer. Twisting at the fabric in his fucking purple polo shirt that just made him look like the fucking wannabe he was. Trying to impress people who didn't matter and trying to be someone he wasn't. And Jay was so sick of looking at him. "Then I'll give you a couple kicks while you're down in the dirt just so you can see what you do to him too."

"Stop," Voight barked.

And that seemed to be enough to break Justin out of his statuesque panic. The realization he was being a pussy in front of his father. Thing was Jay was pretty sure Justin had been a pussy in front of his father for the majority of his life – he just didn't know it. Strength, fights – that wasn't just what divided the men from the fucking wusses. But Justin seemed to think that trying to demonstrate some superiority in the situation might suddenly earn him some respect. Some point. He reached up and pressed his arms forward, trying to push him back. It just caused Jay to rock slightly and then he pulled him even closer.

"Guys, stop," Erin ordered again.

"You're the big guy, right," Jay put back to Justin, still ignoring the orders to step down that were ringing on either side of him. He'd listened to them too long. He'd put up with this shit growing up. Ethan didn't need to put up with it too. He didn't need to grow up thinking he wasn't enough. He didn't need to try to impress people who weren't worth impressing. To try to live up to standards that would always having a moving goal post. To be around people who were always pushing you around, kicking you when you were down, and letting you down every chance they got. "The tough guy. Real tough now that you're pushing around someone your own size."

"Let go of me," Justin hissed at him.

"Or what?" Jay said. Justin just stared at him. Those deer-in-headlights look that just proved that he didn't know how to handle shit. That you wouldn't want him to have your back because he didn't know how. He just always expected others to prop him up while he worked to beat them down. The self-entitled prick. "What's the matter, Justin? You finally run out of things to say?" Jay spittled in his face and then did release him, pressing him so hard the guy staggered back – into the fucking climbing structure that he'd sent Eth flying off of and now his weight hitting it made the Ferris wheel spin even more, causing Justin to lose his balance even more and sag into the sand. Jay let out a sound of even more annoyance at it but Justin was already propelling himself back to his feet, rage setting over his face.

But Voight reached out and grabbed his calf, wrapping his hand tightly around it.

"JUSTIN," he warned at a level, Jay hadn't yet heard him use with his family. But the man's eyes then met his. "Take a walk," he ordered. Jay glared at him. "Halstead, take a walk," he said.

Jay cast Erin a look but she just shook her head at him. Her eyes just as warning as Voight's. So he let out an angry noise and spun on his heel but then turned back and glared at Justin's angry face.

"Ethan's a great guy. He's special. And you've got no fucking idea how good you've got it. How fucking lucky you are," he hissed at him. "Pull your head out of your ass."

 **AUTHOR NOTE: I've been updating regularly the past few days and I know FF hasn't been bumping and I've gotten some feedback about people not getting alerts too.**

 **So these are the chapters that have been posted:**

 **Who You Gonna Call (Chapter 124)**

 **Now (Chapter 125)**

 **Breakfast Smoothie (Chapter 111)**

 **Hungry Caterpillar (Chapter 127)**

 **What You Can Offer (Chapter 130)**

 **Priorities (Chapter 131)**

 **What You've Got (Chapter 132)**

 **Missed Memo (Chapter 133)**

 **Your readership, reviews and feedback are always much appreciated.**


	117. The Playing Field

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 134 - Asshole Special.**

Erin came up the stairs from letting the dog out for a pee and rummaging through Hank's desk drawers to find where he'd hidden the tablet from Ethan's sight that time. She'd sent Jay upstairs to retrieve Eth's dinosaur and see if his headphones were visible without going through all his things. But he was taking forever and she'd decided she should likely grab whatever book Hank and Eth were working on from Hank's bedside table – and Jay wouldn't dare set foot in the master bedroom, even if it was her giving him permission to dart inside and retrieve the novel that would be within easy view. And she should likely pack a change of clothes and some pajamas for Eth anyways, just in case he did end up having to be held over in the hospital. He better fucking not be.

She got the sense from the EMTs that it wasn't anything serious but they didn't know his medical history and after he got in front of the ED doctors at Med who knew him and they paged the neurologist on-call or called up Eth's pediatric neurologist, it might end up being a different story. Seemed like a lot of times Eth at least ended up there overnight if they took him in by the time they got through all the testing and scans and waited on the specialists. If there was a concussion in play here, she wouldn't be surprised with his TBI, he might be held there for some observation too even if it wasn't a big deal. Hank might demand that anyway.

Anything that involved Ethan's head usually resulted in a pretty firm reaction out of him. No chances after what they'd gone through with getting Eth out of the hospital and rehabilitated after his brain injury. Hank didn't pull any punches or having any qualms about just refusing to leave the hospital. And he put on enough of a show that the doctors and nurses that didn't know him were scared of him and the ones that did know him, knew the family had been through enough, to honor his request – or really demand.

So it was likely best to take some clothes over and it was better that she go through Eth's drawers and closet than Jay. If Eth was coherent enough to care, she could snark back to his little boy tongue lashing. Washed his underwear, cleaned up his pissed on sheets, wiped his ass, given him a bath, and changed his diaper enough that she could go through his drawers and pull out some clean underwear and PJs without anyone getting their shorts in a knot. So he could just take that Voight-stick out of his ass.

She'd given Eth's room a glance as she walked by to go grab the book but didn't catch sight of Jay. She squinted through the door for a moment and cast her eyes over to the bathroom to see if he was in there but the door was wide open – reminding her to grab Eth's toothbrush to take over too. But weird. She wasn't sure where Jay had disappeared too. Maybe her room? But that space was being occupied by Justin's family at the moment and she couldn't see him invading that space. And he hadn't. It was open, empty and a baby supply disaster zone when she walked by.

That must be driving Hank crazy to see. Babies came with a lot of gear and it sure didn't seem like Justin and Olive had much of a handle on keeping it organized – at least on visits. She hadn't been down to see them on base since Thanksgiving but she imagined if that was how they kept house down there that Hank must lose his mind while visiting. He wouldn't sit still. He'd be wandering around the place trying to organize and teach them to organize. Though, Erin got the sense that Henry was a little hard to keep up with. He was at the point that he left quite the disaster in his wake now that he was on the move. And, Hank might not remember or have glossed over it, but Erin remembered the house being a bit of a disaster zone when Eth had arrived too – and the first several years after that. Between an infant, a pre-teen and a teenager at home, Hank definitely had to deal with a period of years where his pristine organization and immaculately clean house had been cast to the wayside.

Still, she'd just gone and grabbed the novel, giving the cover a glance. They were still working through Sherlock Holmes. Likely would be for a while since Eth had picked out the complete collection of stories at the used book shop she'd taken him into when he wanted to go looking for his dad's Father's Day gift. He'd been so set on getting his dad a book. He'd said he wanted "pulp fiction" or a "detective story". He hadn't much liked the used copies of James Patterson and Michael Connelly and Stieg Larsson that she kept showing to him. The kind of books that she knew Hank kept in his desk at work and would whip through a few pages when he needed to take his mind off of work for a couple minutes. That he'd sit on the couch and read with the game muted in the background for him to glance at and get the occasional update on the score. That he easily went through at least one a month – if not more like two or three. Enough that she couldn't keep up with what he read to make it easy to buy gifts. Especially since he refused to convert to an ereader or download books to the iPad.

"That's not reading a book," Hank always grumbled when she made the suggestion. When she'd tried to set it up for him herself on the iPad but he'd took as little interest in it as he did any technology that he didn't feel was mandatory for him to learn for the job. Even that technology he had to be convinced of its usefulness, efficiency and effectiveness – because he'd done his job his way, the old school way, a long time and it had sure seemed to work for a lot of years to be going and making it more complicated in his opinions. Don't fix what ain't broke. That was how Hank operated.

It'd been Ethan who'd spotted the copy of Sherlock Holmes. Had managed to read its cover, though he'd shoved it in her hands demanding to know if it was, in fact, Sherlock Holmes. When she'd confirmed it was, Eth had grabbed it back from her.

"Dad is always talking about these books," he said. "Grandpa read them to him when he was little."

Erin had just given him a thin smile. Because sometimes it amazed her the random bits of information Ethan was able to retain. That some comment from his dad had stuck that she was sure wasn't one that Hank was "always talking about" – because if it was, she thought it was something she would've heard too. But maybe it just proved that she didn't know everything about Hank. Or maybe it further proved that Hank did talk to his son. That he had his own private moments with him. His own conversations. That they were creating their own memories and traditions and little rituals and habits together that she wasn't privy to.

And that wasn't a bad thing. They needed that.

Hank was so committed to working through Ethan's written comprehension challenges with him. It was a conversation she had heard – had endured repeatedly. That they needed to get Ethan's written comprehension up. That he had to be able to read if he was going to have much of a future. Some real stability. A decent job. To make a living to support himself. To excel. To function even in day-to-day life.

Even with all the dedicated time he supposedly was getting with the educational aids and teacher's assistants at Iggy's – this IEP he was supposed to be on and excelling under – it seemed like a slow process. It was accentuated by the fact that Eth was having to go to summer school just to try to even partially catch up because the time in the fucking EA room hadn't even kept him half-way up to speed. It was further accentuated by the rants Hank went on about the EA that was assigned to Eth. He didn't like the woman and he'd mounted quite the campaign to have Eth's tutorage transferred under someone else's supervision next year. That he wasn't paying Iggy's tuition and summer tuition for his kid to be failing out of school when he was already on an IEP. That they were supposed to be keeping him up, making arrangements to deal with his educational needs. He could get downright scary about it. The EA – and the staff at Iggy's – was likely pretty lucky he couldn't drag them down to District and throw them into the cage. Though, if he did, Erin imagined they'd start working a whole lot harder to make the adjustments Eth needed to be able to achieve more academically and excel in the best way he could.

And they could see he could excel. Because they spent hours each week with his cognitive therapist working through some of this stuff. Trying to find coping mechanisms and strategies to help him learn and retain and remember. Eth was really good at seeing parents and making connections. There were things in math and science that he caught on to real quick if you explained the general concept to him once. Memorizing maps and lists and numbers. He was good. Creating his circuit boards, fiddling with the lawnmower engine, making little programs with that Makey thing and his tablet. He was good at that stuff. But if you made him sit there and read to you – it was a struggle. If you made him read it to you and then asked him questions about what he'd just read – what it meant, it was even worse.

But still, Hank would sit there with him doing his homework for hours each night. Every Saturday. He'd lay in bed with him every night and make Eth read him a page before he read him the rest of the chapter. And that was the slow process they took with these books. The slow process in Eth's learning and the trying to get him to be the best functional kid he could be.

Just like every other effort they put forward in trying to figure out how to structure his life and his routine to highlight his abilities and to build them. To find his interests and skills and make them something he could latch on to, to grow and participate in. To make it real for him. Normal.

And then shit like this happened and it again got driven home how abnormal their normal way.

Erin sighed and gripped at the book and walked back down the hall, fully stepping into Ethan's room that time to spot Jay sitting on the side of the kid's twin bed, staring at his stuffed dog, clutched in his hands. Erin squinted at him and cocked an eyebrow as he glanced up at her. He let out a sigh and shifted his eyes back to the dog.

"Can't find Indominus?" she asked.

Jay shook his head and reached behind his back to pull the toy from where it'd also been sitting on the bed by Eth's pillow. The toy not on the nightstand – that it'd moved from standing guard to being in the bed – was likely a sure sign that Eth had been dealing with pain the other night. That he'd been awake in the night and pulled the toy closer to him to try to draw some of its Giganotosaurus strength. Or more likely just to have something to stare at and meditate on while he tried to will the pain to subside. Which wasn't a reality that any kid should have to be coping with.

But the fact that the toy was insight and Jay was still in the bedroom – sitting on the bed, holding Eth's other battered stuffie – raised bigger questions. Ones that she suspected she could likely come up with on her own. Ones that she thought she likely knew partial answers to – even though he'd say silently glaring out the window their entire drive back into the city.

Still, she went and sat next to him on the bed. Her shoulder touching the side of his arm while he looked at the dog. She gave its battered face a little smile and reached out to try to pull back some of the matted fur away from its dark beady eyes.

"Having a deep conversation with Dog?" she asked.

Jay let out a quiet sound and gave her a weak smile. "Just thinking," he muttered and paused for so long that she thought that was all he was going to say despite having stated the clearly obvious. "I had one of these," he finally managed. "A lion. He's likely in worse shape than this guy. I still have him. He's in a box. Somewhere. My closet. My mom gave it to me. When I was a baby. Bought it before I was born. For me. Couldn't get rid of it even when we were packing up the house."

Erin gave him her own thin lips at that and leaned against him a bit more at the disclosure. She stroked down Dog's matted fur. "He actually hasn't had Dog that long," she said after a silence. "Platt actually gave it to him. Brought it into the hospital for him after …"

Jay just gave a little nod at that and sighed, setting the dog back on Ethan's pillow and pulling Indominus into his lap instead, staring at her.

"Do you need to talk?" Erin asked.

"No …," Jay said flatly and entirely unconvincingly.

Erin just nodded but reached and found his hand, drawing it away from his efforts at fiddling with the dinosaur's arms – making her look even more fierce in her permanent roar. She pulled the hand down to his knee and held it there. Tightly. But he just kept looking at the toy.

"I just don't understand," Jay finally said. "I don't understand and it just makes me … so fucking angry."

Erin shrugged. "Don't try to understand it," she said. "None of us understand it."

Jay let out another noise and looked at her. "How can he treat him like that? How can he be … that fucking stupid?"

Erin sighed and shifted her eyes to Indominus too. "It's … just … how he's always been since Eth got hurt. Since he lost his mom. He's just … in denial. He doesn't know how to cope with it."

"That's such fucking bullshit," Jay said. "Ethan's …," he sighed hard and shook his head. "He's just a little boy and he's a nice, nice kid."

"I know …," Erin allowed, moving to thread her fingers through his and grip his hand more tightly. "But he … wouldn't go into the hospital when Eth was hurt. It was a fight to get him to go in while he was in the coma. When we still thought we'd lose him or he wouldn't wake up. To try to get him to see his brother. He just … couldn't handle it. And after E was awake … and he couldn't remember things at the start … who we were. And Justin just couldn't handle it. He hardly went in at all while Eth was going through rehab. And he was in the hospital nearly six months."

Jay looked at her. "To me," he said with his eyes dancing with anger again, "that's just another fucking excuse. His behavior then didn't make sense – and now, out of a fucking twenty-five year old man – it makes even less sense."

She sighed and shrugged. "He's not twenty-five year."

"Oh, fuck that," Jay said. "At 'almost twenty-five', I was home from two tours in Afghanistan, I'd watched my mother die, and I was working at finishing up at the Academy and about to start my beat. So don't give me this 'kid' crap. He's a grown-ass man with a wife and a kid. In the fucking army with them paying for him to go to school so he can be in fucking Signal Corps as a fucking career officer. He's not a child but he acts like one whenever we see him. He acts like a spoiled brat. A fucking littler kid than Ethan. Sometimes if feels like his baby has more fucking smarts than him. I mean … would he treat his son that way? Put him in these kinds of situations? How would he fucking feel if someone was treating Henry the way he treats Eth?"

Erin frowned at him. "I don't think that's the way he looks at any of it."

"Then how the fuck does he look at it?" Jay demanded.

She shrugged at him. "I really don't know, Jay …"

"Well, it's fucking ridiculous …," he muttered and shoved Indominus into her hands, as he stormed over to Ethan's little desk and snatched up the kid's headphones, spoiling the cord around them. "And I can't do this anymore. I can't fucking come over here and sit around tasting the blood in my mouth while he makes Ethan feel like shit. While he mouths off at his dad and he gives you such fucking attitude, Erin. I can't," he shook his head angrily. "I won't."

"I know," she acknowledged. "I can tell."

Jay slumped against the edge of the desk and fiddled with the cord before looking at her. "Then what are we going to do?" he asked.

She sighed. "Right now?" she said and shrugged. "We're going to toss this stuff into Eth's backpack with some clothes and take it over to the hospital."

"Yea, I doubt I'm too welcome at the hospital," Jay said. "Or that I'll be welcome here ever again."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "What? Because Justin might be over at the hospital?"

His eyes went to her. "Because Voight's at the hospital," he put bluntly.

She shook her head. "Jay …," she sighed. "Hank gets it. If he was upset with he would've said something more – done something more – at the park. You just said … what we've all wanted to say for months. Years …"

"I just …," Jay sighed and brought the headphones over to set next to her on the bed before going to Ethan's dresser and pulling the kid's underwear drawer open, retrieving a pair of briefs and socks before grabbing a tshirt out of the drawer below and coming back to sit next to her again. "I value being able to come over here. To spend time with you. To spend time with Eth. I just don't want to have … fucked that up."

"You didn't fuck it up," she promised and found his hand again. "And, if you aren't allowed in this house then that means that I'm not going to be here as much either. And Hank won't make that decision. He knows how much we do for Ethan. Both of us. And he values us being a part of his life too. Ethan needs more than just Hank. Hank knows that."

He eyed her and asked again, "Then what are we going to do?"

She shrugged. "I guess we see if you knocked some sense into Justin for us. And if you haven't … then we … work from there."

Jay's head sagged and he looked at the floor. "He's going to be here all the time come September."

Erin shook her head and squeezed his hand. "No he's not," she said. "Olive and Henry might but Justin …" she shrugged. "He'll only come by when he needs something. Wants something. It's just … the way the dynamic works."

"It's bullshit," Jay pressed again.

"Yea," Erin agreed. "It is. And it's hard for me too, Jay, to see him treat Hank like that and to treat his brother like that. But Hank's just trying to deal with it the best way he knows how. He's frustrated with me that I waved the white flag at Eth's birthday and let him come back to family events. He's stressed about Justin coming home too. He loves his son, he wants to be near Henry, but he sees what it does to the rest of us as a family and what it does to Eth. He's just trying to play peacekeeper and he's trying to do right by Camille."

"Yea … well … from the bit I've heard about Camille, I don't think Justin is treating anyone in a way she'd be that approving of," he muttered.

"You're right," Erin acknowledged.

"I just …," Jay fumbled with his words again.

So she squeezed his hand tighter until he looked at her. "You love me. You care about Ethan. A lot. And you understand what he's going through. You were thinking about your mom today and I'd wager that means you had a bunch of other things about your dad and your brother going through your head too. You saw people you care about hurting and frustrated. So you lost your temper. You said some things that everyone has wanted to say for a long time. And now we've taken a walk. We've cooled down. And we're going to be some of those dependable, stable, adults in Ethan's life. And we're going to take an overnight bag to the hospital. We're going to see where the chips have fallen. And we're going to take it from there."

Jay let out a slow exhale. The air coming in a long, quiet stream out of his nose. "Yea … OK," he finally managed.

So Erin squeezed his hand, adjusting hers and gripping it firmly. Because taking it step-by-step was about all they could do. They had to understand the playing field before they made their next play. So getting back on the field would be their next step. She had to trust it was a step in the right direction. And Jay needed to too.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: I posted the chapter immediately before this (Asshole Special) less than 24 hours ago. Please make sure you didn't miss it. Your reviews and feedback are much appreciated.**


	118. Concussed

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 135 - The Playing Field.**

Voight glanced up from holding his sleeping son's hand, staring at him lost in his own thoughts and disappointments, as the curtain around his bed in emerg pulled back. He sat up a bit, expecting it to be Dr. Manning having returned with some kind of update and game plan. But it was just Justin. So he let out a little, unimpressed grunt of acknowledgement at his presence and settled back into the fucking hard plastic chair, his eyes shifting back to his boy.

Justin stood there awkwardly. Just staring at the kid. Maybe – hopefully – fucking realizing how little he still was. He always looked littler in those high, hard hospital gurneys that masked themselves as beds in the emergency bays. Under those thin sheets and covered in those over-sized loose hospital gowns. Those machines attached to him and beeping away. IVs dripping into him. And even taking all that away. Thirteen. Thirteen wasn't no grown-up. He wasn't even in high school. Hadn't even hit puberty yet. A fucking middle school kid. He was just a little boy.

"Close the curtain," Voight rasped harshly, annoyed at Justin just fucking standing there. "Your brother deserves some privacy."

At least. The least his brother could do was not have those curtains pulled open and this little boy on display like he was in a fucking fish bowl. The least he could give their family was some privacy. Some dignity. Enough of their shit was on display for everyone to know. To read about in the papers. To hear on the rumor mills. To be spread around with a wink and a nod and used like some sort of bargaining chip. The fucking least Justin could do was not leave it all hanging out there in the open, making it even more visible than it already was, just how fucked up they actually were. How much they had on their plate. How fucking dysfunctional they were in their functionality.

At least Justin listened. But still stood there before finally muttering, "This brings back some memories …"

Voight smacked at him, giving him an even more unimpressed look, as he moved around the end of the bed and perched on the end of the other chair in the cramped space. The chair that was usually occupied by his sister but Erin was off trying to mend fences that shouldn't need mending.

"What memories are those?" Voight put to him flatly, stroking his thumb over the top of his little boy's hand. Trying his best to offer him some additional come if his unconscious mind was somehow sensing or hearing that extra bullshit had just walked into his room.

"Well, when …," Justin said and gestured absently to the heart rate and blood pressure monitor beeping away in the corner.

Voight shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "And saying that just further illustrates how little you showed up for your brother back then and how you haven't even tried to educate yourself about what he's got going on now."

Justin sat a little straighter and eyed him, his arms crossing in that gesture he made when he was about to give his teen-aged pout again. "Well, I'm here now, Pop, and I was hoping to get a bit of an update about where things are at. Me and Olive, we've been sitting out there a long time and –"

Voight let out an amused noise and shook his head, gazing at the ceiling briefly in an effort to calm himself. To not make a fucking scene at the hospital. To not let out that kind of frustration in front of his little boy who didn't need to hear it, need to see it.

Right now, all that Magoo needed was just some positive support to get through this afternoon so he could get home to his own house and his dog and his baseball cards and his dinosaurs and the quick and easy dinner of sausage and kraut he wanted with watermelon on the back deck and his sister so they could curl up on the couch together and she could give him that physical affection that was different than Hank was able to offer – and he could watch his fucking Cubs play the D-Backs that night. That was what his little boy needed.

"You've been sitting out there 'a long time'?" Voight smacked at Justin, bringing his eyes back down. "You got any idea how many hours me and your sister have been molding our asses to these chairs this year? Whole lot more than two."

"Pop, c'mon," Justin sighed. "We've got Henry out there—"

"You're out there because you pulled another stunt that got your brother in the hospital and it seemed like maybe you cared enough about him to at least make sure he's OK," Voight seethed out.

"Well … is he OK?" Justin asked.

"Does he look OK?" Voight demanded and gestured with his free hand at his boy.

"Well what's wrong with him?" Justin pressed back with his own edge.

Voight shrugged. "Haven't told me yet," he said. "That tends to be how this works. They stabilize him. They run some tests. We wait on docs and specialists and imaginng and then we get some answer that usually moves us upstairs for the night. So we sit here and we wait it out."

"So it's the multiple sclerosis?" Justin asked.

"I'd actually wager a guess that this likely more has to do the fact he went flying off the top of an 11-foot climbing structure," Voight smacked at him.

Justin let out a breath and sunk back in the chair, his arms crossing again.

"So this is gonna get blamed on me?" Justin gestured at him with that fucking tone that made him want to smack his son a whole lot harder than the shakedown that Halstead had given to him. "He wanted to do the obstacle course."

Voight nodded. "He wanted to do the obstacle course," he patronized. "You plan on letting Henry do everything he wants to do even if you know it's not fucking good for him?"

Justin's jaw clenched. "You – fuck—"

"Watch your mouth," Voight snapped at him.

Justin glared. "All of you. Olive, Erin, E. You're all telling me that we're supposed to be treating him like he is normal. Let him do this kind of stuff. You're sending him to camp to rock climb and kayak and this … ridiculous shit, Pop. This was a kids' playground."

"The only thing ridiculous goin' on in that statement is that you took him up to that playground when he'd already been told no—"

"I didn't know that," Justin protested violently.

Voight smacked angrily at him. "You want to lean on that crutch, J?" he said. "Gonna pretend you couldn't see that he was tremoring? That we've switched him out of his brace and had him on his own crutches? That you're that blind or stupid?" Justin just glared at him. "Which is it?" he demanded. "Blind or stupid?"

"He didn't look that bad to me," Justin muttered. "No worse then when Erin and Halstead took him over to the mini putt."

Voight ran his tongue across his teeth. "Pretty sure you don't go climbing up some spinning top when you're playing mini golf," he graveled.

Justin looked down at the floor, crossing his arms tighter, stuffing his hands into his armpits. "So you're taking Halstead's side?"

"The only side I'm taking in any of this is the one that gets my son well and home," Voight said.

Justin's eyes met his again and tried their damnedest to drill into him but Voight just stared right back. "That mean you're OK with him getting in my face like that?"

Voight shook his head. "He barely touched you," he muttered.

"So you're OK with that?" Justin barked.

"Justin, you let your brother go do something that he wasn't supposed to be doing, which was stupid enough," Voight rasped at him. "But then you had to go make the Einstein move of spinning the damn thing. Sending your brother flying. And, you know what? Any fallout this has – you get to get back in your car on Tuesday morning and it's us left here dealing with it. Halstead is one of the people dealing with it. He has a right to be a little pissed off. I'm pissed off too.

"What's that mean?" Justin asked with annoyance.

Voight glared. "That you need to start thinking about the repercussions of your actions. Act like the grown-up in your relationships. Not just with E."

Justin just shook his head and looked at the ground.

"H not taught you you're not living at the center of your own universe anymore?" Voight put to him.

Justin cast him an angry look. But the curtain pulled back again and this time it really was Dr. Manning. She didn't immediately look up. She had Magoo's glasses in her hands and was examining them.

"Well, Maggie the miracle worker also apparently has glasses repair on her list of special skills," she said and glanced up at Voight, only to catch Justin in her peripheral vision and do a mild double take when she saw the unknown face. But she finished walking over to Voight and handed the glasses to him. "So we salvaged these. But you'll likely have to take him into the optometrist to get them refitted. A little bent."

Voight just nodded and muttered his thanks, setting them on the rolling table behind him and gesturing at Justin, where Manning's eyes had set. "My older son, Justin," he offered in a lax introduction.

Manning gave him a thin smile and a little nod, clutching her tablet to her chest. "Hello," she allowed. "I'm Dr. Manning. I'm the pediatrician in the ED. Your brother is one of my favorite frequent flyers."

Justin just looked at her blankly. So Voight gestured at his older boy – who he should really be thinking of as a man at this point but Justin seemed to do his damnedest to make sure that he never seemed to really graduate to that title. "He's the genius who spun the play structure."

"Oh …," Manning allowed, her gazing getting more disapproving and staying sternly on J for a long beat before she pulled the tablet away from her chest and looked at it before turning her full attention back to Voight. "Well, we've got his labs back and his electrolytes are all out of whack. So that's telling me he's been working at getting dehydrated for a while. Has he been outside a lot with the heat?"

Voight sighed and rubbed at his face, looking at his son. "Past couple days," he acknowledged. "Ball some nights last week. Then he was running around with some of his buddies some."

Manning gave a little nod. "Has he been hydrating?"

Voight let out a little sigh and shrug. "I'm at him about it but I don't got him in front of me 24/7."

"Well, I know you've heard this before but with the medications he's on and the multiple sclerosis, especially in this heat right now, you've really got to keep him hydrated and keep him cool," Manning said.

"Been trying my best," Voight rasped flatly and then cast a look over at Justin, gesturing a little again. "Eth limits some when he's around people not that in tune with what he's got going on. With the bladder issues and some of the accidents he's had. One last week at a friend's place. He was pretty embarrassed."

Manning nodded but looked at Justin, but going over to the little terminal stand and setting down the tablet and washing off her hands. She watched Justin while she did.

"Well, bladder issues are just part of multiple sclerosis," she put to him bluntly, "and your brother needs to keep hydrated in these kinds of temperatures or else he's going to end up in the hospital again. So it's likely not worth making a big deal about a little pee."

Justin shrank back in his chair and Manning finished scrubbing her hands and came back around the bed, pulling back the blanket on his son a bit.

"He been sleeping for a while?" she asked. Voight just grunted in response. "Hasn't had to pee yet with the fluids we're pumping into him?"

"No," he allowed.

She nodded. "I'm just going to feel his abdomen again," she said and Voight allowed a small nod as she started to poke around his stomach. "You sure he's just self-limiting and it's not urine retention? Have you seen him go to the washroom or had any wet sheets the past few days?"

"He's been taking leaks," Voight assured. "Wet the bed on Wednesday night. Drank a lot at ball."

Manning nodded again. "OK," she acknowledged. But Eth made a little sound under her touch and his eyes fluttered open. She gave him a smile. "Hi, Ethan. It's just Dr. Manning. I'm just checking your belly again."

He gazed at her under heavy lids. "Halstead?" he mumbled.

"No," Manning shook her head. "Dr. Halstead managed to weasel out of working the long weekend. I'm a little jealous."

Ethan looked at her as she checked his temperature. She watched him as the thermometer beeped, and glanced at the reading. But Eth's eyes still looked so confused and Manning noticed too, pulling out her little flashlight and leaning toward him.

"I'm just going to check your eyes, Ethan," she warned and pulled up his lids, flashing the light at him a few times and gazing at him before switching and doing the other. Ethan cringed and tried to jerk a way. "Still a little light sensitive, huh?" she put to him but Ethan just made a weak sound. "Can you track my finger?"

She kept watching his eyes as she moved her finger in front of his face. Voight watching too and it seemed as though the one eye wasn't moving and his son winced a bit as he tried to follow it.

"Do your eyes hurt when you move them, Ethan?" she asked. He just closed his eyes at that and let out a little noise. "Ethan," she called again and his eyes flickered back open. "Can you tell me what day it is?"

"July fourth," he muttered.

"Not quite," she said. "You want to try again?" Ethan just gazed at her under heavy lids. "Ethan, do you know where you are?" she tried instead.

"The hospital," he said.

"Right," she allowed. "You're at the hospital. Do you know why?"

"A flare?" he muttered.

"Hmm …," she acknowledged. "Do you remember what happened just before you came to the hospital?" The kid just stared at her, his eyes moving back to slits. "How's your head, Ethan? Do you have a headache?"

"My shoulder hurts," he mumbled and squirmed against the ice pack strapped there for the moment.

She nodded. "Yea, it looks like you're going to have a nice bruise there. I think you hit it pretty hard when you fell. Do you remember falling, Ethan?"

"The park," he managed.

She nodded again. "You fell at the park. How's your head, Ethan?" she tried again. "Does it hurt?"

"I don't know. Maybe," he whined, his eyes welling at her lining of question.

She gave him a little smile. "It's OK," she allowed. "You're finding it pretty hard to focus right now, aren't you?"

"Yes …," Ethan allowed quietly.

She nodded. "That's OK," she acknowledged and pointed at Voight. "Do you know who this is?"

Ethan's head rotated a bit. "Dad," he managed with a bit more firmly.

Manning nodded and pointed at Justin. "What about this guy? Who's this?"

Ethan's head slowly rotated again and he seemed to squint harder. "J …," he said with some uncertainty.

"Hmm …," she allowed her brow creasing.

"We call him J at home," Voight provided.

She gave a little nod. "OK," she allowed and turned more fully back to him. "So he's still a little disoriented."

"Ain't it more that he's sedated?" Voight rasped.

She nodded but made a weighing sign with her shoulders. "Maybe," she allowed. "We didn't give him a sedative. But we did give him something to bring his heart rate down," she said, her eyes passing over to the monitor briefly. "It can cause some drowsiness."

"The shaking stopped," Voight added.

She nodded again, looking over the boy. "Well, I think most of the shaking had to do with him giving himself a good scare. A bit of a panic attack with the shock of the fall he took."

"He's been tremoring real bad with the heat," he pressed.

"That's pretty normal with the M.S.," she acknowledged. "The beta-blocker we gave him to bring his heart-rate down, often does help with tremors too. But you'll see it come back as the medication works out of his system."

"So what are we dealing with here, Doc?" Voight put to her more directly.

She sighed and retrieved the tablet again, punching something into it. "Well, he's definitely dehydrated," she said and gestured to the IV. "We're going to want to get him through that drip. But I'm also going to want him to drink something and keep it down," she said with a glance at the rolling table. "Not interested, huh?"

Voight shook his head. "He's not big on orange drinks."

"Well, Ethan," she chastised slightly, "that's the color it comes in." The kid opened his eyes in thin slits again. "It tastes a lot better when it's cold. Will you try again if I have Maggie bring you another?"

Ethan let his eyes close again and Voight gave his hand a little squeeze. "Magoo, listen to Dr. Manning."

"OK …," he said weakly.

Manning nodded. "OK," she allowed. "And I'm also going to need you to take a pee before I let you go home." She cast Voight another look. "He wasn't able to fill a cup for us before. So I'm going to want to see it in the bedpan and run a panel really quick too. His WBC was up a bit so with Ethan, especially if he's self-limiting right now, we might have a bladder infection or UTI going on. Dehydration can cause a fever but even with the fluids we're getting into him, it's not coming down as fast as I'd like."

"OK …," Voight sighed. "But it just looks like dehydration? Got dehydrated? Got dizzy? Fell?"

Manning cast another accusing look Justin's way but then shifted her eyes a bit more sympathetically to Voight. "Hopefully," she allowed, "but given Ethan's history, we've paged the neurologist on-call. Just to get his opinion. Ethan's pupils still aren't that responsive and I know he's had some bouts of optic neuritis."

Voight slumped back in his chair. "So we're looking at another round of Solu-Medrol?"

Manning shrugged. "We're going to wait to see what the neurologist has to say," she provided and gestured at the IV again. "You're still going to be here a couple hours anyways. And if neurologist doesn't feel its an exacerbation or doesn't order any imaging, I think I'd like to do a CT just to make sure we aren't dealing with a concussion, given Ethan's brain trauma history."

Voight nodded. "You can do it now, don't need to wait for the neurologist."

She gave him a thin smile. "It's likely only a mild concussion – if it is one," she said, "and I really don't think it's necessary to put Ethan through the undo stress of a CT and an MRI. So we'll just wait to see if the neurologist wants to order an MRI."

"Then do the MRI now," Voight pressed. "Kill two birds with one stone."

She gave him another thin smile but a firmer look for such a small woman. "The neurologist will be here soon. We paged him about forty-minutes ago." Voight gave her a smack but she held her ground. "If he hasn't emptied his bladder by the time that IV is through, I'm going to want to do an ultrasound of his bladder too just to see if something else might be going on there."

Voight just gave her a nod. But there was another clatter behind them as the curtain pulled back and Manning looked. She face softened a bit to see Erin and Halstead there. She gave them a sincere smile, as they shuffled into the cramped space. Halstead casting him a glance but he just gave him a nod.

"Natalie was just giving us an update on the state of things," Voight provided.

Manning nodded again and looked Erin and Jay in the eyes, their anxiousness to hear what was happening was apparent. "Dehydration and possibly a concussion and a UTI," she said. "We're going to do a few more tests and we've got the on-call neuro coming over just to make sure it's not an exacerbation with the M.S."

"A concussion?" Jay spat with some accusation, his eyes shifting to Justin.

Justin met his eyes nervously but shifted them to Manning. "But a concussions … that means he wouldn't be able to do—"

Manning eyed him firmly while she interrupted. "It would depend on its severity, but generally we recommend a rest period after any sort of concussion. No videogames, TV, reading, listening to music, physical activity."

Justin gaped at her. "But he's got summer school. And ball. And camp."

She shrugged. "Well, maybe that's something you should've thought about before letting a kid on crutches climb up to the top of a merry-go-round and spinning him around," she said flatly.

Voight smacked, his eyes staying on Justin. "How long of rest period, Doc?"

She shifted her eyes back to him, softening them a bit again. "Let's hope it's mild and you're only looking at two days to a week of brain rest," she said.

Voight gave a little nod. And Manning stepped forward, retrieving the electrolyte drink that Magoo had refused to ingest.

"I'm going to have Maggie get a cold one of these for him," she said. "So I'll ignore there's this many people in here for the moment but she sure won't when she gets in here." She gave Jay and Erin a thin smile. "Best thing with a concussion is to just let him rest for the first twenty-four hours," she said a bit more gently and then cast Justin a final look before pulling back the curtain and stepping out of the room.

Justin gazed at him. "Pop …," he stuttered. "I didn't know."

Voight smacked at him. "Justin, there's a different between not knowing and burying your head in the dirt," he said. The kid slumped in the chair again but Voight nodded at the curtain. "Heard Dr. Manning," he ordered. "And don't need my grandson hanging 'round here getting exposed to germs."

"Pop—" Justin tried weakly.

"Take them home," he pressed more firmly.

Justin sighed heavily but pulled himself out of the chair, casting Erin and Jay a look – a whole lot meeker than the show he was putting on at the park – as he went by.

Voight watched him leave and then gave his daughter and her partner a little nod before shifting his eyes back to Magoo.

"They've got him drugged up," Voight provided. "He's in and out."

Erin nodded some acknowledgement and handed him Eth's backpack. "We brought a change of clothes. Sherlock Holmes and the iPad. But I guess you aren't going to want him watching a movie to pass time right now."

Voight grunted at that but gave some thin-lipped thanks as he put the bag on the ground next to him.

Erin navigated around the bed, taking the ugly dinosaur out of Halstead's hand as she went and going up around the side to be closer to Ethan's head. She'd reached to tuck the tuck her his arm when his eyes fluttered open again.

"Erin?" he managed.

She gave him a little smile. "Hey, Eth," she allowed and held up the thing at him. "Look who we brought?"

His eyes flickered at the dinosaur and he ran his finger tips over its reptile-like skin before his eyes shifted to the end of the bed and squinted. "Jay?" he asked.

"Hey, bud," he allowed.

"Are you mad?" Ethan asked no one in particularly but Voight gave his son's hand a small grip.

"No one's mad, Magoo," he assured.

His eyes shifted to Erin and flickered. "Are you mad?"

"No, Ethan," she said.

"I didn't listen …," he said in a weak voice.

She gave him a little frown. "I know, Eth," she said.

"But I wanted to do the obstacle course."

"I know," she said and gave his hand a little squeeze. "But you know how we've talked about how you need to start taking ownership of your M.S.? How you need to learn to know when you need to stop – and stop? And how you need to listen to people when they say it's time to rest? Me and Jay said no because we could tell you were done for the afternoon."

"But Justin said we could go …," he nearly slurred.

"I know," Erin acknowledged. "But you know how we've also talked about if people are pushing you to do more than you can handle right then – you need to tell them no? You didn't do that. And Justin doesn't understand enough about what you're dealing with to make smart decisions about what you should and shouldn't be doing."

Ethan's eyes tried to focus on her but grew heavy again. "Did I ruin Fourth of July?" he asked.

Erin gave him a sad smile and shook her head. "No, Ethan," she assured. "You didn't ruin anyone's Fourth of July."

"Did I miss the fireworks?" he muttered, his eyes drifting shut.

Funny question because he sure seemed to have missed some of them.

"No, Magoo," Voight allowed. "Haven't missed them yet."

At least not the ones he needed to see. Likely best he missed the rest that had been going on around him. Didn't need to carry that weight around with him. Kid already carried enough.

"We'll get you to the fireworks, Eth," Halstead promised at the end of the bed, gazing at the kid with a deep frown on his face.

"OK," E muttered through his closed eyes. "I like the fireworks."

"I know …," Halstead said. "We'll get you out there. I promise."

 **AUTHOR NOTE: The chapter immediately before this (The Playing Field) was posted earlier today. Please make sure you didn't miss it. The chapter before that (Asshole Special) was also posted within a 24 hour period. Your reviews and feedback is appreciated.**


	119. Errand Boy

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 136 - Concussed.**

Voight could hear the click of the mutt's toes against his wife's hardwood floors before he'd even managed to get the door open. He stooped a bit as he did push it open, reaching to grab the mutt's collar and stop him from his welcoming charge into Magoo. Did wouldn't likely stand up to the impact at that point.

"Get back, Bear," he rasped at the damn thing but Erin had already appeared in the hallway, giving him a frown and gripping at the dog's collar herself to get him to stay in place.

"Sit, Bear," she ordered, her hand pressing down on its rump, trying to get it to end its excitedly-happy dance that he always made whenever any of them came in the Goddamn dog.

The thing sure knew how to make you feel like at least you were the center of its universe. Reminded Voight of the little dance his kids used do for him when he got home when they were little. See them leaning over the back of the couch waiting for him at the window and by the time he got up the stoop, they'd be there at the front door, ready to be underfoot. Unless he was carrying a truckload of groceries, though, their impact never felt like them getting too underfoot. Nice to be welcomed home like that. With wide arms and big smiles and "Daddy"s and demands for a hug. Hadn't got that for a long time. What he did get was grumpy teenagers and a slobbering dog sniffing at his crotch. But Magoo sure seemed to like that slobbering greeting every day. The fucking happy dance the mutt did for him. Being the center of the world of some living thing. Bear would happily trail after Magoo – get under his feet – more than anyone else's. The mutt had gotten pretty smart about it, though. Knew how to dodge the kid's crutches and unsteady legs pretty well. And, Voight supposed the kid needed – deserved – to be at the center of someone's … something's … universe. He did OK, though. Might not be the absolute center of Voight's or Erin's but sure wasn't no distant planet either.

"You didn't call," Erin put to him flatly as he held the door and watched Magoo wearily make the little step to get inside. Looked like even the lip from the stoop to the house was a little much for him. Had looked like an old man coming up the few steps to the door. Was going to be a slow process getting him up the stairs to his bedroom – and closer to the bathroom.

But Voight just gave her a grunt. Maybe he should've called. Likely told her he would. Though, thought he'd phrased it around he'd call when he knew what was going on – if they were keeping E over. And they weren't. And they both just wanted to get the hell out of the hospital and home. Hadn't wanted to make chit-chat over the phone about what the docs had said. Hadn't said much more than what Erin had already heard, already knew. Had just put them through a couple more wringers to get it all confirmed before patting them on the head and sending them on their way again until next time.

"I would've started dinner, if I knew you were coming home this early," Erin said.

He just looked at her and let out a quiet sigh at that, glancing at his watch. Started dinner? Would've hoped they all would've eaten by that point and he could've just fed Magoo some leftovers and gotten him up to bed. But not such luck. Not that he blamed them for not much feeling like cooking or eating.

"It's fucking hot in here," he muttered and closed the door behind Ethan. The kid just looked white-washed. He was drained. Just done for the day. Likely for the next couple. "Why didn't you open some windows?"

Erin just gazed at him – steady eyes with a touch of annoyance. "I didn't think you'd want us opening the windows with the air conditioners on," she snarked.

"Mmm," Voight grunted and glanced up the stairs. "It any cooler up there?"

"Not really," Erin stated.

He grunted again and started down the hall a bit.

"Hank …," Erin sighed at him. "What'd the doctors say?"

He just grunted again. Didn't feel like going over it. Not right then. Not with the whole family sitting there for a rundown that some of them hadn't much cared about. Not when him and Magoo had had to sit through about five hours of the fucking song and dance. And they'd come away with the same shit they'd been told within thirty minutes of walking in there. He was dehydrated. He had a mild concussion. Only kicker was that he had a UTI but Ethan fucking had a chronic UTI, it seemed like. If it wasn't a UTI then it was a bladder infection or a kidney infection. Or this was aching and that was aching and he was pissing blood or pissing razor blades. That he was retaining urine or he wasn't emptying his bladder proper. Or his urgency would turn to frequency would turn to pissing himself. So they'd just taken the least 'script for yet another round of antibiotics that would only temporarily knock this shit out until they started talking about other options to deal with all this fucking bladder and dribbling in his shorts or suddenly looking for an outhouse at the last possible second so he ended up pissing himself because things just didn't seem to register or work right or whatever anymore. And he sure as fuck wasn't going to have a discussion about any of that in front of Ethan again. Not now.

"Dehydrated, concussion, UTI. Pseudo-flare – Uhthoff's," he muttered and just kept wandering away. That was all he could manage right now. All he wanted to get into. Could give Erin some more details later – in private – if she really felt she needed them.

"Mild?" she called after him.

He just grunted an affirmative. But didn't much care it was mild. His brain damaged kid didn't need to be hitting his head needlessly and that had been pretty fucking needlessly. Didn't need his brains rattled when he was starting summer school in about thirty-six hours and he needed to be able to think and concentration and bring up his grades. Didn't need him benched when the only thing that was pulling him up these days was his ball team and the little buddies he was starting to connect with there. Didn't need him to have to opt out of the fucking day camp at the rehab institution, which seemed to be all he fucking motor-mouthed about these days. So Voight didn't much care it was mild. What he cared about was the fucking potential to get derailed. To throw the fucking summer in disarray. And who had fucking done that and how.

They were damn lucky it was just mild. Damn lucky that Natalie was saying to give him two days solid rest and then to start phasing him back into school and reading and TV and tablet time and ball over the course of the week. Slowly. See how he handled it and bring him in for a follow-up after the week to reassess. That it'd likely be about four weeks of monitoring and dealing with bouncing back. But that he should be OK. That it looked like his shoulder had taken a bigger hit than his head. But that wasn't particularly good either when it was his damn throwing arm. But it at least it was better than talking about some sort of secondary brain trauma or bleeding in the brain. Or him being laid up for the whole fucking summer because his older brother was a fucking idiot. Sometimes it seemed like it was Justin who'd gotten fucking brain damaged.

Still some of it was Voight's own fault. Should've been watching his hydration more. Should've been more aware that Eth was limiting himself around Justin and with them out and about because he didn't want to be pissing himself in public. Didn't want to have that dribble or need to do that dash. Didn't want his brother to know that he often had an extra pair of shorts and briefs in a bag with them anymore, just in case. Because Magoo sure as well wasn't going to submit to putting on some Pull-Ups even if it made the day easier for everyone. Not that he much blamed his son. Who wanted that fucking stigma? And even if you could get beyond that who the hell wanted to be wearing a diaper in this fucking heat. But he should've been watching better. Should've been pushing the water at him more. Should've seen the signs sooner. Been there the day before. The dizziness. Should've bit it in the ass right then. But hadn't. So he could take his wallops too.

Heard Erin already asking Eth how he was, if he was OK as he moved away. Ethan just stated the obvious – he was sore and he was tired and he didn't feel very well. No kidding. Kid was likely going to feel both those things for a good while. And would likely be having a bit of a meltdown over the coming days while they eased him back into the swing of things. But definitely wouldn't be thrilled the next two days or the rest of the week. Likely going to be bored out of his mind. And he was going to be real disappointed when he had to break the news to him that the fireworks tomorrow night wouldn't be much of an option. Natalie had warned against loud noises and bright lights. Not that he planned on having Eth in the middle of fucking Armageddon for the show but even with where they did park themselves a long the lake, it usually got chest-thudding loud and lit up the sky pretty good. So that was going to be a no-go and that wasn't going to go over well with his pyro kid too well when Magoo pretty much marked on the calendar every fucking date of the year there were fireworks they could be watching. He'd be damn happy if they were happening every day. But they didn't and missing out on them on the few occasions a year they did get set off was likely going to result in their own personal fireworks show in the Voight household. Likely more of a waterworks show. One that he'd get to deal with – not Justin.

He'd barely gotten into the entranceway of the front room when he saw that Olive was holding onto his little grandson's wrist. Trying to keep him in place and not get underfoot while he did his own little dance in his struggle to get going the direction he wanted to be going. And that direction was right to Popa – and at that moment that sure didn't feel like underfoot to Voight.

"It's OK," he gave Olive a thin smile and bent down to pick up his grandbaby, putting a kiss against his temple. Poor kid felt all clammy in the hot house too. Getting to be a real fucking hot house. "Is Popa glad to see you," he said and started to wander through to the kitchen.

Needed a few minutes. Didn't need the fucking spectators he had sitting in his front room waiting for him to give some sort of oratory. Didn't have one to give. Didn't much feel like giving it to those spectators. Some of them he'd just be preaching to the choir. The other one – he just didn't feel like screaming at deaf ears anymore. Had had enough of it.

So he'd just dote on his little grandson. Glad he was there. Glad to see him that weekend. Henry hadn't done nothing wrong. Hadn't hurt no one. Just the sight of him didn't annoy him – like the sight of J leaning forward in that arm chair did. Like he was waiting for something or expecting something. Because he always was. Always was something. But he didn't have anything to give at that point. So done. Everyone else in that house should be too. Just cooked.

He'd take H out to the deck with him. Let him help Popa grill. He'd be a real big help. Henry was already a little helper. Funny little guy. Always bringing you something. Had brought him his shoes that morning. Took a few tries but eventually managed to get a proper pair. Left the rest of the pairs in the breezeway in a messy pile. But H could get away with that for now. Work on teaching him pristine organization after he got moved back up to the city. Could likely teach his parents a thing or two while they got unpacked.

For now, he could just keep him company on the deck. It'd do him good. It'd be cooler out there. Let H play in the sandbox while he got dinner cooking. Maybe set up the sprinkler for him quick so he could cool down some before his bedtime too. Getting close to it. Glad his grandbaby was still up for him to get a bit of extra time with. Wasn't seeing him enough that weekend with the shitshow going on.

But he sighed as he got into the kitchen and realized that the sausages had gotten shoved in the freezer and none of the kids had bothered to pull them out yet. Hard as a fucking rock.

He heard a creak in the dining room floorboards and closed the fridge door and see his oldest son hovering in the entrance. He glared at him.

"Nearly 7 p.m.," he put to him. "You didn't feed your wife and son."

"Pop, I know how you are about people touching things in your kitchen," Justin said.

"It's your mother's kitchen," Voight muttered and re-opened the freezer to grab the sausages anyways. He'd just have to defrost them in the sink or call Erin fucking in their to explain to him how the fucking defroster thing on the microwave worked without cooking the meat until it turned fucking rubber. Piece of shit.

"You know what I mean," Justin sighed at him.

"Don't got a problem with no one using the kitchen," Voight put to him, readjusting H a bit.

Kid was tired. Flaked out against him. His little fingers working at the neckline of his tee. His breathing catching just a bit under the weight of the humidity of the day. Poor little guy was likely exhausted from the heat and the past few days' activity – the drive, the zoo, the beach, the park, the sandbox, the splash pad, Popa, Auntie Erin, Uncle Ethan and Uncle Jay. Lot of activity for a little guy.

And now he was stuck in this hot house too with the rest of them.

Shouldn't be keeping him cooped up like this. Would likely fall asleep out on the deck in the swing if someone could come out there and hold him while he cooked. That swing worked like a charm on both his boys when they were babies. Hell, it even worked with E now. And had worked a whole lot of nights when Erin wanted to hide her tears in the dark and was afraid to shut her eyes too. Let her just rock out there with him or Camille for a while and eventually she'd calm down. Let sleep take over. Kids needed sleep. Didn't matter if they were one or twenty-one. They needed their fucking rest. Had to be cooler out there than in the house too. Maybe he'd recruit Eth to rock Henry in the swing. Try to get them both some shut-eye in one go.

"Got a problem with people not cleaning up after themselves," Voight added, casting Justin another look and heading over to the sink, only to give Justin an even firmer look. The fucking sink was full of crap. Glasses, dishes, spoons, pairing knives.

"We fed H," Justin put to him flatly.

Voight glared at him and worked on clattering the shit over so at least it was all in one sink. Henry startled a bit at the noise and looked down at Popa's work.

"Not your servant," Voight graveled, giving his older boy another look. "Can manage your own dishes."

Justin sighed obnoxiously but came over and made a big production out of opening up the dishwasher and moving to transfer them over but Voight stopped him.

"Not enough to put them in there," he said. "Do them in the sink."

Justin just gave him an annoyed look but Voight ignored him, plugging up his side and filling it with some water to put the sausages in. But then he heard behind him, "Sarge, you just want me to go out and get something for you and Eth?"

Voight glanced over his shoulder to see Halstead in the door. Gave him a bit of a once over. The guy looked like he'd been baking in the house for a while too. "You and Erin eat already?" he asked.

Halstead shrugged. "We weren't that hungry in the heat," he said. "We had some fruit."

Voight just nodded. "Supposed to get some carbs and protein into him," he muttered.

"Could go grab one of those burrito bowls he likes," Halstead offered.

Voight turned at eyed him while Justin glared. But Voight stared his son down. "You and Olive planning on eating tonight?" he asked. "You just waiting for me to wait on you?"

Justin made a sound. "We just didn't know what you wanted to do with dinner, Pop."

"Mmm," Voight grunted. "What you planning on doing if me and E got stuck at Med overnight?"

Justin sighed and shrugged. "I don't know. Guess we aren't that hungry either, Pop. OK?"

Voight didn't believe that was what was going on. At least with his son. Thought Olive had enough common sense to make herself something if she wanted it. But sometimes her common sense seemed to dim a bit when Justin was around and he gave her the skewed reality about what life was like in that house. Rules and orders that didn't actually exist. Made him wonder what kind of picture J had painted of growing up – of him as a parent. Of his mom. Figured that at least his portrait wasn't a very flattering one. Thought that Olive was starting to do some of the paint-by-numbers on her own in her and H's independent visits but sometimes he just didn't fucking know. J did real good at making him feel like a monster sometimes. But it was just because he'd so mastered pushing his buttons with the bounds of stupidity he pushed against. Made it real hard to drop the tough love act and try to go back to treating him as his boy. Even though there were times Voight would really like that reset button. If it could reset Justin too – not just him.

But either way, since he'd been told the fib they weren't hungry, he'd take it. They could feed themselves when they were. Lots of fruits and veg in the fridge. They wouldn't starve. So he just looked back to Halstead and gave a little nod. "Yea, just something for Magoo," he allowed.

Halstead nodded and started to turn to leave. "Sure, you don't want something too?"

"Mmm," Voight grunted and shook his head but reached for his pocket.

Halstead held up a hand. "I've got it," he said, clearly expecting he was about to shove money at him. Which he likely was but not right that second.

"Think you can manage another errand while you're out?" Voight rasped. Halstead raised an eyebrow at him. "He's done," he said with a gesture back out to the living room. Could see past Halstead that Magoo was already curled up on the couch with Erin. Looked like he might already be going back to sleep. "Just wanted to get him home."

Halstead shrugged, glancing behind him at the scene. "Sure," he allowed. "What do you need?"

Voight held out the piece of paper at Halstead, who came to retrieve it. "Some electrolyte drink," he said, tapping his finger against the brand name he'd scribbled on the paper. He pushed his hand back into his jean pocket. It was too fucking hot for jeans that summer but he didn't own anything else and wasn't about to be one of those guys who wore shorts – unless it was his briefs to sleep in or his trunks to swim in. He pulled out Ethan's latest 'script and held it out. "Think you could get that handed in too? Don't have to wait for it. Gave him his first dose at Med. Just get the gears turning."

Halstead nodded. "Sure," he allowed. Voight really did dig out his cash that time. But Halstead again took a step back. "Sarge, I've got it," he said more firmly getting that self-righteous look on his face. The one that said he didn't take money from no one and didn't get into any situation he thought might make him owe anyone anything. He'd have to work on that. That only went so far in a city that operated on a wink and a nod.

"Hoping you could check to see if the CVS has any fans left," he said. "Try to get the air moving in here a bit better.

Halstead eyed the cash he had held out but still didn't move to take it. "Want me to check around a bit?"

Voight shook his head. "No," he said. "Just want to get him fed. Get some of this electrolyte stuff into him and get him in the bath and to bed as quick as possible."

"OK," Halstead nodded and turned to leave.

"Jay …," Voight called after him but the kid – this one that wasn't a kid, this one was a man – just shook his head and kept going.

"I've got it," he said, retreating back into the front room and standing over where Erin was holding her brother on the couch, running her hand across his forehead and pushing his bangs up. Voight knew she was likely still feeling the heat on his forehead. The fever had gone down but hadn't completely broken yet. But down enough for them to send them home with the antibiotics and permission to take some Tylenol. Still, Voight saw her and Jay speak in hushed voices. He assumed Halstead as just giving her the rundown, if she hadn't overheard. But then he'd nodded at her and headed up the stairs. Small clatter of the linen closet door in the bathroom and the faucet turning on and Voight knew Erin had sent him to get a cold compress for Eth's head.

"I could've gone and got that stuff for you, Pop," he heard his son's voice say, pulling him out of his observation.

But he just turned and met Justin's eyes and shook his head. "No, you couldn't of," he said.

Didn't think there was much in that moment that he'd trust his older boy with when it came to his little boy. But certainly wasn't going to trust him with managing anything to do with his youngest's health. That was for sure.

And wasn't about to trust him with rocking his little grandbaby to sleep either. He'd do that himself too.

And he turned and headed out the breezeway to the porch, the back door clattering behind him as he made his way to the porch swing, with Henry clutched to his chest and already letting out the little noises of a sleepy little boy, relieved to be out of that stuffy house. And he'd rock for a bit. That's what he'd do. Clear his head. Cool down. Maybe calm down too. Just him, Camille and Henry.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: I had two updates yesterday — The Playing Field and Concussed. Please make sure you didn't miss them. Your reviews and feedback are appreciated.**


	120. Pillow Talk

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES WAY BACK. IT GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 118 - Errand Boy.**

Erin moved across the bed and rested her head against Jay's chest, embracing him lightly and trailing her fingers down his bicep.

He'd been quiet since they'd left Hank's. Too quiet – even for Jay. She was worried about him. About where his mind was at. With him referencing his mom that day - which he never did. With him losing his temper with Justin – even though he more than deserved it and it was long overdue. With how he was sitting up in Ethan's room that afternoon with Dog.

She didn't like where his mind might be at. What hole he might be digging for himself. Or worse – what walls he might be working at putting back up that they'd slowly been working at chipping away.

It was a long process – for both of them – and she didn't want to lose the progress they'd made, all because he didn't want to talk to her. Didn't want to share with her. Because maybe she didn't share enough with him, even though she thought she shared more with him from her past than he did is. Though she knew she held things back too. That she could be withdrawn and withdraw from him. And she knew why she did that. Because she didn't like being vulnerable and this relationship was requiring more vulnerability than she was comfortable with but that she was having to force herself to live with. Because that was just part of being in a relationship. And she still wanted this. But it was hard when she knew that he didn't want to be that vulnerable around her either. That in so many ways he tried harder than her to protect himself from that vulnerability. That maybe it was that he was just really that damaged and he didn't want her to see. To know.

But she already knew.

She might not know all the causes of those scars – despite the glimpses she had of them, despite her own intuition about the roots of them, what her gut screamed at her and what her psychoanalysis filled in. But she knew they were there. She knew they were a part of him. And as much as it pained her that he couldn't share a little bit more about himself – that he couldn't … or wouldn't … let her in, she also understood. Because she of her own pain and her own scars. And more than anything she hurt that he'd had to go through everything he'd gone through. Whatever he'd gone through.

But on some level she was thankful for it – because it'd made him the person he was. And as scarred and as flawed as he was, he was a good man. And she loved him. Even the parts he was scared to show her. To let her see.

She thought he was more scared of them than she was. She didn't think he was hiding anything from her that she would ever be that appalled by. That she hadn't seen or heard or experienced first-hand worse.

The only thing he'd said when they were leaving, though, was that he wanted to go back to his place. Not hers.

She hadn't argued about it. They spent most of their alone time at her place. In her opinion, it was a much better location and comfort level than his dingy apartment.

It was so dark in there. It wasn't that it was 1970's masculine. It was just dark. Depressing. Like he didn't want to let the light in – or didn't deserve to. She actually didn't feel it was the best place for him to live despite what kind of deal he claimed to be getting on it. Despite his argument that with the job he was hardly ever home anyways. Despite him maintaining that it was a perfectly acceptable apartment for a thirty-something bachelor.

The thing was he wasn't exactly a bachelor anymore. And considering those shadows that cast of his face - the look he got in his eyes sometimes, that far away stare that he always had some excuse for, that he tried to pass off as him being intense – she wasn't sure living in a dark hole (even if he was hardly ever there) was that good for him.

She'd loosely put forward him moving in more than once. It made sense. They were engaged. They were trying to pull together enough cash to make getting their own place – a new place – realistic. It'd save them some money if he got rid of his apartment. Give them more to put towards the house or condo when they found something – or the move, renos and furnishings. And he really was only ever in his place so much. Work, her place, Hank's. That's where the majority of his time was spent. It really didn't make sense anymore for them to be paying in two places. But he hadn't seemed ready to let go of his.

Sometimes she wondered what that meant for their relationship. For his actual commitment to them getting married – even though he put that on her too. Waiting for her to pick the date. Waiting for her to be ready to put in their decision – to tell Hank what they wanted to do and to start their transfer papers – at work. But that wasn't all her choice either. It wasn't just on her.

So they picked away at looking at places. But he always seemed to have some excuse. Different areas of the city they wanted to look at. Conflicting requirements on what they thought made sense in a new home. She wanted new. He wanted old. She was willing to move to the North Side. He wasn't. He kept picking these dingy neighborhoods that were just gentrifying and becoming trendy but then picking some hellhole for them to look at. Some sort of fixer-upper that they both knew they'd never really get around to fixing up. Until he saw that condo in University Village and now all he talked about was the view and the bathroom – suddenly interested in a place in an area neither of them liked and a price range that wasn't realistic.

And sometimes she felt like it was just more excuses – bigger brakes to slow down the process. That something was keeping him here and keeping him from moving up in the world – or in their relationship. That he deserved to be here – in the dark. That he wasn't ready to let go of whatever it was that kept him. Whatever ghosts – which she was pretty sure should could list of several – kept him here and haunted him. That somehow it was as comforting to him as it was depressing to her. A dark hole that maybe he didn't even realize he was in. That he liked that dark and dingy place. To be hidden and camouflaged within. The quiet and the anonymity. That he could be that lone wolf that was more like a loner. That for as much of a good man he was who operated on his own high moral code of right and wrong – that he was still that teenaged boy who was a loner, who could get violent, who had issues with authority and who had a temper. But she'd had some experience in managing and living with men like that. It didn't exactly scare her either. It was just that she wished for more for him – for them. Because they both deserved that.

"Why doesn't Voight just get air conditioning?" Jay suddenly asked through the darkness.

"I don't know," Erin admitted. "I guess part of it has to do with whatever the money situation is."

"He has money," Jay muttered with a touch of distaste.

Erin shrugged. "Some of it likely has to do with Camille. He doesn't like making changes to 'her' house."

"You mean museum …" Jay added flatly.

She sighed a little against him. "He's gotten better about it since Eth's been back home."

"Tell that to that hairball in the vase in the bathroom," Jay said.

She smiled against his shoulder at that. "That's potpourri."

"What it is, is disgusting," Jay said, casting her a bit of a look down his chest.

She shifted a bit to catch his eyes. "Well, it's hers. So don't tell him that."

"Soon it's going to be some sort of science project for Eth," Jay mumbled and went back to gazing at the ceiling. "Maybe we can submit it to some show on Discovery. Mythbusters. What bacteria really does grow in your bathroom."

She allowed a little sigh. "Maybe it will move after Henry is old enough to reach the counter and he realizes it's a health hazard," Erin provided. "He's been pretty good about not going into one of his 'likes things just the way he likes things' modes while Henry's around." All Jay did was give her a small sound that vaguely acknowledged she'd spoken. So she asked instead, "Is that show actually still on?" – trying to change the topics.

"Yea," Jay acknowledged but tensed under her and rumbled out. "I felt so bad leaving him in that fucking sauna."

She rubbed her cheek against his chest and gripped at his shoulder again to calm him. "Ethan's OK," she said. "He was sleeping. Hank will make sure he's cool enough."

"Hank," Jay stressed, "should get some fucking air conditioning."

She lifted her head and put her chin on his chest, gazing at him but he stayed committed to looking at the ceiling. So she reached and tugged at his chin until his eyes meet hers. "What's going on, Jay?"

"Nothing," he muttered.

"That's a lie," she provided, pressing her chin further into his sternum.

He raised his eyebrow at that move and she gave him a little smile, cocking her own eyebrow but let up on digging her chin into his chest. For the moment.

He reached and stroked her hair a bit, pressing some of it back behind her ear and giving her a gentler look, a needier look. "Want to have sex?" he asked – way more forward than he ever was and completely lacking in any sort of romance to get the juices flowing.

She rolled her eyes at him and shifted off of him, rolling back over on to her back and crossing her arms across her chest in mild annoyance. "No, Jay," she pressed out. "I want to talk."

He sighed heavily. The exhale seeming to fill the whole room and the silence hung for so long that she thought he was going to feed her another lie. That there was nothing to talk about. That he didn't need to talk. Or more likely he'd just lay there in silence until one or both of them fell asleep. Though, she knew it was more likely that both of them were just going to stare at the ceiling now all night. Waiting until enough time had passed they could frame a reasonable excuse to be getting up. For walking away from having a real conversation again. Or at least a real one where he had to be the focus of it and she got to be the interrogator.

"I just …," he finally let out flatly, full of stops and starts like he couldn't find the words he wanted to use and wanted to use as few as possible. "… know what it's like to have an older brother letting you down all the time."

She rolled her head to look at him. His gaze still on the ceiling. "You and Will are OK now …"

Jay gave a little shrug. "We're adults. He's changed a bit. Grown a bit. And I've just learned to … accept him for who he is and what he is. How he is. And to accept … what our relationship as kids looked like. What is was."

"So maybe Ethan will learn to do the same," Erin said.

"He shouldn't have to," Jay muttered and then made and angry sound and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

She watched him as he put the weight of his arms on them. His biceps bulging to the point that she thought he might damage his eyes – or at least blacken them. She thought about reaching to pull his arms down – to look him in the eye again. But she knew whatever was in them right then – weakness – wasn't something he wanted her to see.

"Jay …," she finally whispered, as she watched his chest inflate with his labored breathing.

He made another noise and brought his arms down. Slowly. And he turned his head to look at her. "I've just been thinking about things today," he admitted. "My mom."

"I know …," she said and found his hand down by his side and clutched at it, letting herself roll back onto her side so she could look at him more fully.

His eyes stared at her. They were sad and tired but soft and he reached to run his rough fingertips against her cheek and chin again.

"She would've liked you," he said.

She allowed a smile at that admission because she wasn't sure she fit the ideal girlfriend – the marrying kind – in most mother's eyes. She was a little too rough around the edges for that. She knew it. She wasn't the kind of girl you took home to meet the parents. Life had taught her that and she was OK with it. Maybe until now.

"I would've liked to have met her too …"

Jay allowed a thin smile but then gave his head a little shake. "I kept thinking today – that she would've liked to be there. And she probably would've gotten a real kick out of Eth and Henry too."

Erin smiled a bit wider at that. "They do make for good entertainment." Jay just made another sound of agreement. "So … what'd you do for Independence Day? When you were a kid?"

Jay made a noise and shook his head. "My granddad would've picked us up by then. We'd be with him."

"So … the cabin?"

Jay shrugged. "Yea. We spent a good chunk of the summer with him most years. Get us away from Dad's bullshit."

"You must've liked going up there, though …"

"Yea …," Jay allowed. "But that long with Will …" He let out a noise. "Granddad kept him in line, though. Didn't tolerate the showmanship."

She processed that but then before she could respond – ask more, Jay's phone vibrated on the nightstand and he reached to pick it up. She watched as he gazed at the screen.

"Ears must've been burning," he muttered as he started to key in a response.

"What's he want?" Erin asked.

He gave her a glance. "Natalie told him we were at the hospital. Says watermelon is a good hydration pick if Eth's not going to drink that electrolyte drink."

"Mmm …," Erin acknowledged and rolled back to her back. "He'll like that news. That drink looks and smells disgusting."

"Not as bad as the 'potpourri'," Jay said only to get a small whack from her. "Voight will still pour it down his throat anyway."

Erin shrugged. "Yea, well, Natalie likely recommend he be drinking it for a reason. Summer school starts on Tuesday. He can't be running back and forth to the hospital."

Jay grunted. "He'll eat watermelon. You going to tell Voight?"

She glanced at him. "Why don't you?"

Jay just made a sound and gazed at his phone as it vibrated again in his hand.

"Hank doesn't care, you know, Jay?" she told him more firmly. "He sent you out on those errands – not Justin. That was his acknowledgement of what happened. His thank you."

"I know …," Jay allowed and then looked at her more seriously. "Will wants to know if we're still doing your family stuff tomorrow with Eth sick?"

She sighed and rubbed at her eyebrow and looked at the ceiling. "I don't even know what Hank is going to want to do. Ethan's supposed to be resting. But he's going to have a full meltdown when he realizes that he's not getting his water war or his fireworks."

"So are we going to go and witness the meltdown or we want to do something else?"

She cocked her eyebrow at him. "What kind of something else?"

"Barbecue," Jay said flatly.

She let out a breath and made a gesture with her hand. "What's the catch?"

"Natalie's mom. Will's invited. Doesn't want to go alone. Clarke's invited too."

Erin shook her head. "Your brother has a talent for pursuing unattainable women."

"You saying that Jeff Clarke's got a better chance with Natalie than my brother?" he cocked his eyebrow at her.

She raised both her eyebrows at him and nodded. "Ah, yeah."

"What's wrong with Will?" Jay put to her.

"Jay, nearly every story you tell me about your brother includes a new bullet-point for the 'what's wrong with Will' list," she said.

"He's my brother," Jay said. "We're supposed to be on his side."

She cocked her eyebrow at him. "And you give me shit about defending Justin."

Jay shook his head hard and looked at his phone. "So incredibly different."

"How's that?" Erin pressed.

Jay looked at her sternly. "Because Justin treats you like crap. Not like his sister. Not like someone who's saved his ass more than once. He treats Ethan like crap for no reason. He just constantly picks at him and makes him more self-conscious than that kid already is and that's going to have long-term implications knowing that his own brother treated him that way. Saw him that way. And he treats Hank like crap. And I don't care what kind of hard ass he was – or is – as a parent. Or all these fucking moral grey areas he has and disagreements I have with him about lines and convictions on the job. He is a good dad and he really fucking loves all of you. And it fucking kills me going to these fucking 'family' events and watching Justin treat the three of you like shit. Will doesn't do that to me or Dad – and Dad deserves it. And he treats you and Eth and Voight with a whole lot of respect both in the ED and outside of it. And I can't say the same for how Justin fucking treats me. Fucking telling me to stand down with his brother."

"He said that to you?" Erin asked but Jay just stared at her more firmly. "When?" she demanded.

Jay shrugged and punched something back into the phone. "While I was putting together the fan. You and Voight were upstairs trying to help Eth with keeping his core temp down."

"And you didn't punch him again?" Erin teased.

"I didn't want to test my luck," Jay muttered.

"You could've taken him," Erin said.

"Oh, I know," Jay pressed, catching her eyes before looking back to the phone. "I meant with Voight."

Erin sighed and rubbed his bicep. "So what do you want to do tomorrow? Do you want to go to the barbecue?"

"No," Jay said with a shake of his head. But then he looked at her more firmly. This seriousness overtaking his eyes again. "One thing I have learned from Voight – that no matter who dysfunctional your family is, certain days are for families. Fourth of July is on that list. So I'm going to spend it with my family. You're my family."

She gave him a sad smile. "Will's your family too," she said.

"Again, so incredibly different," Jay muttered.

"How's that?"

"Will's like Justin there. They're both still learning what that means," Jay muttered and punched another response into his phone. "He's asking me to be his wingman. Not his brother."

"Maybe we should invite him to Ethan's barbecue instead …" Erin said, adjusting herself again to return her head back to his chest.

"Oh, well, that sounds like fun," Jay provided sarcastically.

She shrugged. "What's a little more drama?"


	121. Commando

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 117 - Errand Boy.**

Hank smiled as he watched his little boy and his little grandson goofing around in the little back plot. Hardly a yard but had always been enough to give the kids some space to play. To be kids. To kick them out of the house for some minor peace and quiet, though, him and Camille had always been able to hear their hooting and hollering anyway from in the kitchen. See them out the window to make sure they weren't being real jackasses out there. Shaking their asses more than they should.

Hadn't really thought he'd get that sucked into watching the kids when he'd herded them out the door. He was actually pretty damn grateful that Henry was there that day because it was giving Magoo something to do. Figured he'd been listening to a whole lot more whining if his grandbaby wasn't there and needing entertaining too. E was still off. Still tired. Still sore. Still needing to take his rests. But when his eyes were open and he was upright, he was being your typical modern age thirteen year old – not having a fucking clue what he was supposed to do with himself when he wasn't allowed tv, videogames, his phone or his iPad. Throw in that he wasn't supposed to be reading or listening to music the first couple days to give his brain a real good rest and the kid was just at a total loss of what he was supposed to be doing with himself.

"You're supposed to be resting," Hank had put to him rather directly. But the kid could only sleep so much. Only wanted to sleep so much. And with the way hot air rose, didn't blame him for not wanting to be on his back in his rack. Laying in the front room with Henry tearing around wasn't exactly conducive to taking a nap either.

E had groaned at the kid a bit at the start. Tried to pretend like he really was following the doctor's orders and trying to sleep the day away and the kid was being a major inconvenience to that plan. But somewhere in the grumbling, he'd realized that H could be a playmate. Maybe not an ideal one – but playing with him was something to do.

The two of them had had all the favorite baby toys that Olive had brought with the little guy strewn across the room. Kid liked his talking vehicle toys but as much as he told E to give H (and all of them) a break with the moaning about the sing-songs on the thing, the insistent chatter out of all the things was getting to be a little much. Hank didn't think it was so much the noise that H liked – it was the button he got to push to make the toys getting on their motor-mouthing. Rammed his little thumb into that thing like no tomorrow. And sure had his favorites. Figured that the batteries would be dying on Bob the Bulldozer and David the Dump truck real soon. He'd have to find some new favorites. But Olive said the kid just loved anything that made noise and music. Guess most kids did. Sure was a way to drive the parents wonky, though. Been bad enough after Magoo's birthday and the weekend with H pressing on David's song. Erin had been sitting in his office babbling at him about something – venting about some case. He'd got to the point he was only half listening. It was afterhours. Waiting on E to wrap up his physical therapy and to go over and grab him. He'd just been doing some paperwork when Erin had asked him, "Why are you doing?"

"Paperwork," he'd grunted at her with a glance. But she had that smirk on her face. Not the one of his detective. The one of his daughter who knew she could get away with a whole fucking lot compared to the rest of the jokers he had to manage. And she was about to rib him as her dad – not her boss.

"You're humming," she teased him, that smile growing even bigger.

"I'm not humming," he barely contended and looked back to his paper.

"You are," she said. "David's song."

"I'm not singing the dump truck's song," Hank had said, giving her a warning look.

She'd shrugged at him, smiling even more wryly. "You're not singing it. You're humming it," she'd provided again.

He'd just smacked at her and gone back to work – that time being real sure he wasn't making any sounds. But then later that night he'd caught himself doing it again. Damn David and his dump truck. Now he was having to listen to the damn toy and this time Bob too. Didn't want to be humming that song after the holiday, so he'd gone and dug out some of the toys Camille had put away for when they did have grandkids.

They didn't have a lot left that really suited H's age and play style yet. He was still pretty much at the kick, toss, dump stage. Bit of a bull in a china cabinet. That might not change, though. He was a Voight male. Hank acknowledged that. Would mean he be doing some charging forward and into things – knocking shit down a long the way – in his lifetime. He was trying to get a handle on it, though. Slowly starting to move out of the destructive stage as play and into the imitation play. Was really fascinated with everyone's phones. Grabbing at them and putting them up to his ear. Been real happy to be given a pot in the kitchen to drag around with him too and a wooden spoon. At least that 'music' Hank couldn't get stuck in his head but J had made quite the production out of him encouraging him to get underfoot in the kitchen and give everyone a headache in the process.

Hank figured it was a whole lot less of a headache than the talking cars and maybe they should be encouraging him to get underfoot in the kitchen. He wanted a pot and spoon – maybe he'd learn how to fucking use them before his twenty-fifth birthday. So he'd just smacked at his grown boy and ignored the protest. Figured his house, his rules. But Justin had still gone and taken the items away from him. Too bad because Hank only had so many real toys he could give the kid that were age appropriate.

Despite what Cami had put away – held on to – some just hadn't survived that well. Not to be much more than a display piece. Good that she'd held onto J's stuff because it'd gotten a second go with Magoo. But after going through two growing boys, they were a little bruised and battered. Likely would be even more banged up by the time Henry got through with them. He get any little brothers or sisters or Erin brought him home any grandkids and the toys would likely have given up the ghost by the end of it. But making it through a few kids – that said something. Didn't make toys like that anymore, he didn't think.

Bit a trip down memory lane going through those boxes to see what he could pull out to keep H entertained. Made him think of his boys – when they were little and cute. But mostly got him thinkin' on Camille. Wouldn't lie – any time he saw his grandbaby it did. In a different way than when he was around his own kids. Struck at you from a whole new angle. One that he was still learning how to put the appropriate armor on for.

But those boxes of put away baby toys, it just showed that even when their kids were just babies Cami was already thinking about that future. What she wanted – hoped – she'd get to pass on. How much she wanted all that. Grandbabies.

She'd be over the moon about Henry. But hadn't gotten to be around to see it. Still, her grandbaby was getting to play with what she'd saved for him. All those years ago. And E was getting to revisit some of them. Most of the stuff he didn't remember. Too little or right in that grey area where he should've been old enough to at least remember something – some glimmer – but that hit to the head had robbed it from him. Just like it'd robbed a whole lot of things from him. From all of them and now from Henry too.

Nice though to get to see his little boy playing with the toys now. Setting up the little Fisher Price circus train for his nephew and filling it with the animals to drag along.

"Cha! Cha!" H had managed or some proximity of it. The pulling the train he hadn't been so good at it. Lot better at making it flip or using it at some sort of damn kick ball and then tripping over it, landing on his diapered ass and wailing some.

Liked Eth building up the little alphabet blocks into towers for him too. Though, him and E were on a little different wave lengths on that. E was working at it like some sort of game of Jenga – seeing how high he could get the thing to go, how many letters he could manage in a row. H was just going at it like some sort of Godzilla and knocking it down and clapping and giggling at his feat while E grumbled at him about not playing it right. Hank thought they were both playing together real good.

Sharing real good. Sometimes he worried a bit about all that. What Eth's and H's relationship would end up being. What it would look like. A little young to be an uncle. Not the way you'd expect most uncles to be anyway. At least in Hank's generation. Who knows anymore. Families come in all shapes and sizes. Had sure learned that and implemented that in his own. Figured it seemed to work. Didn't think they were any more fucked up than most other families he'd had to deal with over time. Thought they did OK. Own baggage, own challenges but also functional in their own way too. They managed.

That weekend, though, it was giving him some hope about what E and H might settle into. That maybe they'd do a bit more than tolerate each other. He knew Magoo wasn't so sure about the whole baby thing. Wasn't too sure about what to do with him. Was nervous around him. Knew he struggled a bit with the whole attention thing when H was around. That he wasn't the baby of the family anymore – and that that was likely going to become even more apparent to the kid after Justin's family was back in town. That sometimes E could be short on patience with H. Sometimes his frustration at his relationship with his own brother would seep out a bit in how he interacted with H – gave him a broad distant or got really annoyed with him over some stupid baby shit. H just being a little guy. But then there were moments like that weekend that made Hank think they'd sort it out. Because his son was playing with Henry and showing him off a bit and being conscious of some of his needs and limits. Trying to help the best way he knew how as a thirteen-year-old boy who had no real experiences with babies at all.

Hank could tell too that Eth was just so desperate for Henry to grow up faster. For him to have a real little playmate. He was going to have to hope that by the time H was old enough that he could play better with Magoo that E would still have an interest in playing with him. That maybe Ethan would be more like Erin or even Halstead. That some of the play as H grew up would be forced just to help out and have a relationship with him. But that some of it, you could just tell, they were doing so they had an excuse to act like a little kid again too. Go to the dumbass movies and play with the Lego and go to laser tag and splash around in the water park and get ice cream at the beach. But the more likely outcome was going to be that right around the time H was turning into a real fun little guy, that even if his high school kid was still interested in hanging out with him, J would have wrapped up his schooling and be shipping off somewhere. Seemed to think they'd likely start him out at Fort Gordon. Georgia. Long way away for Eth and H to ever be hanging out together much. To have much of a relationship. Hard for any of them to have much of a relationship at that distance. Fort Campbell had been hard enough and Hank could blitz that drive in six hours. Couldn't do that with Georgia. And Georgia might be wishful thinking or just a line J was feeding him – or Olive. Reality was most units had signal corps guys in them. Every post needed connectivity – intelligence. And with the way the world and the military was going, Hank was pretty sure they wouldn't have J benched stateside that long after they got him up to speed either.

But for now, he was just gonna to focus on the now. Usually the best you could ever do. And right now – that morning - E had wanted to play with his nephew and had been sharing real good. Had even gone upstairs and retrieved some of his Hot Wheels and dinosaurs to show to Henry.

There'd been such a production at E's birthday about H taking any interest in the things. His thirteen-year-old wasn't ready to share then. But apparently that morning he was. Wasn't any shrieking about H using his stegosaurus as some sort of teether. Gobbering all of it. Was just a lot of stomping and roaring sounds as E attempted to show him how to play with the dinosaurs "the right way", which was a little funny.

Took Hank back too. Remembered his little boy – not more than four years old trying to teach Daddy how to play dinosaurs the "right way". Daddy never played it right. It was always "WRONG!". Didn't make the right roars or stomped them the wrong way and never said their names right. So many fucking names for all the little plastic figurines that Camille had stockpiled their son up with.

These days, though, there wasn't a right way or wrong way to play with them. They mostly just sat on display. Something for E to fidget with relentlessly. About the most they ever played with them now was when Hank would go and stand next to him at the display shelf and try to calm some of the OCD behavior by asking questions about the dinosaurs and getting his son's unfiltered monologue about them that usually made his eyes glaze over. By the time his son was a paleontologist, Hank thought he might be just as qualified to be one. Some sort of second career he could take up in his retirement.

Hot Wheels were a bit of a different story. Eth was just really getting into collecting them on his own. Didn't mean that they hadn't accumulated quite the collection with having two boys grow up in the house. They were a toy that never really got put away. Just kept filling bigger boxes over the years. Becoming a bigger and bigger mess for Hank to step on with each passing year too. And it looked like with his grandson moving back to the city, they might be migrating down into his front room again to play booby-trap for his feet.

E hadn't brought down any of his new ones. Those got lined up on a shelf in his room just like all his other collections. That kid and his collections. The boy was going to end up being some sort of hoarder. Or maybe they'd finally be able to sell off some of the shit when he hit about eighteen and pay for his college with some sort of treasure he had buried in there. Hank knew he was more than kidding himself with that. For all the hundreds of dollars that had been spent on toys for the boys over the years, he knew that if they did manage to offload them now, they'd likely garner barely enough cash to buy his son a college textbook. Hell, by the time Eth got to college they likely wouldn't even be using textbooks anymore. Be all this online and tablet and ebook crap. Or maybe they'd just parachute the knowledge into your skull by then.

Still, out of the ones that E did bring down – the old, well-loved and covered in the debris of likely about twenty-years of rough play by boys – seemed to have caught H's attention some. E was trying to show him how to drive them around on the floor. H was trying to imitate him but didn't quite have the motor skills for that yet. Likely would soon, though. Give him another four or six months and he'd likely be a good Hot Wheel companion. Maybe get him one of those road map carpets for Christmas. Hell, Camille likely still had that rolled up in the attic somewhere too. Actually, Hank thought it had been out long after Camille was gone. On the floor in the boys' bedroom. He likely rolled it up when he started turning the room into a storage space while J was in jail and he had his son locked away in private school. Trying to pack away some of his family and some of Camille. Trying to move on in the worst way possible. But for the life of him, he couldn't remember what he did with the damn thing. It was probably disgusting and got tossed. Though, maybe it did get moved up to the attic or down into the dank basement after they rearranged the boys' room and got E settled after he came home. Got him sorted on his grieving process better. Moving on in a healthier way than the spin out had lent itself to. That he'd let himself fall into without his anchor gone to keep him from taking that nosedive into the hole that they were all just starting to crawl out of.

Didn't much matter where that rug was, though. H was too little to grasp it right now and he could afford to get another one. Likely be a good one to nudge Eth towards getting for his nephew. Give the two of them some more playable moments. From the way Magoo was driving those cars around the legs of the armchairs and along the edge of the coffee table, he figured E wouldn't mind having the rug right then. But Hank hadn't had a chance to go a nose around the two spaces to see if there was a chance of spotting it.

"DAD!" E had cried out at him with such force that Hank had bolted into the room. He'd been at Ethan about not letting H put the damn cars anywhere near his mouth, which was a challenge since Henry test-tasted everything and gave it a real good chew in the process. Just what he fucking needed – his grandson chewing off a wheel on the damn thing and swallowing it.

When E had brought down the toys, he wasn't too worried about it. The cars had survived his sons without them swallowing anything. And even if they had swallowed them, they'd both swallowed (and shoved up their noses or into their ear canals) a lot worse than that and managed to make it through their preschool years OK. It'd likely be labeled as negligent parenting these days but back then …

But now was now and Henry was his son's kid and he knew that Justin would have his head if he'd let his child swallow anything. Hell, Justin would likely be up on his high horse if him and Olive had walked back into the house and found Magoo and the baby playing Hot Wheels in the front room. J was real good at trying to find new and creative ways at trying to tell him he wasn't a very good parent. Seemed to conveniently forget that he'd got two kids to adulthood and had one more than two-thirds of the way there. That for all his flaws as a father, he at least knew how to keep his kids alive.

Had him cursing finally going and sitting in the dining room to have his coffee and look at the paper. Thought he could still see and hear the kids good enough from in there. But, yeah, he'd been looking at his paper and, yeah, he'd been getting some pings on his phone from the fucking scene he'd gotten called out to on Saturday afternoon. So the boys weren't getting his full attention. Maybe they should've – and he'd near knocked over his chair at Ethan's call.

But when he'd stepped into the front room, H was fine. Standing in the middle of things. Double-fisting it with a dinosaur in one hand and David the Dump Truck with a Hot Wheel on-board in his bucket in the other. Though his face clearly said he was straining hard in that moment.

"He's making his poop face," Ethan informed him flatly.

Hank had to take a step back for a minute to keep from snapping at the kid. Had thought for a minute there that he'd be making another trip to the hospital less than 24 hours after getting his own son home. Worse, that he'd likely have damaged his grandpa-sitting privileges before he'd even gotten an official engagement. Olive would give him some leeway but didn't doubt that J would be on the lookout for any opportunity to make him feel like a dunce and punish him for it. Didn't think J got that it wasn't him that he'd be punishing in that scenario. That it'd have a lot of implications for more people than him, all for the sake of Justin getting to inflate his inflated ego a little bit more. Didn't need to be doing that that weekend. Likely wouldn't be the ego that burst. Might be Voight.

"You don't need to be screaming across the house for me about your nephew taking a dump," Hank had put to his son bluntly.

E had just shrugged at him. "You were just in the next room."

"No yelling in the house," Hank had stressed at him. Bit of a hypocritical thing to say to the kid and the look on E's face had said it too.

Hank and J had exchanged some words the night before after Erin had finally pulled herself away and taken Halstead with her. She'd put up a bit of a fight. She was used to being in the house 90 per cent of the time when Magoo got home from one of his hospital visits. Didn't want to leave him when he was running a fever and concussed and just looked so fucking washed out. But where the hell was she expecting to sleep? On the floor in E's room? Her and Halstead camped out in the living room? Voight sure as hell wasn't giving up his and Camille's bed for the two of them to occupy. Though, he doubted either of them would've taken to that idea even if he had found it in him to let down that barrier and make the offer. So instead he'd pushed them out the door with Erin still arguing that he should let them take her brother with them so he could sleep in the A/C. But Voight wasn't about to let his son out of his sight for the same reasons Erin didn't want to let him out of hers. But Magoo was his kid. He'd take the responsibility of checking on him overnight and dealing with his latest health bump.

Been sure to give J some more jabs about the reason they were going through the latest health bump, though. Make sure he really understood what Natalie had said to him. What it meant for Eth for at least the next seven days and how fucking pissed Voight was going to be if it had any implications for dragging him through summer school and him having to drop his ball or his summer camp. If his son was stuck back in the seventh grade and treated like a fucking retard by those fucking kids at the fucking private school because he couldn't get him caught up in summer school because his idiot brother had sent him flying off a playground with a concussion that would leave him tired and grouchy for at least a few days – if not more like a month – and needing to give his brain a rest for at least a week. Real good way to start summer school off right when he was already academically behind. Having to send his boy in with a note saying not to start in on the reading activities, computer research or tablet app crap until the following week. That was going to make the four week crash course of trying to get his son closer to grade level real easy. Like he didn't fucking have enough headaches to deal with already.

Sure Magoo had heard some of it. Kid hadn't said so but the kid hadn't exactly been full-on asleep when he'd gone upstairs either – needing to get his older boy out of his sight at that point. Had moved Magoo over to his bedroom at that point. Get him closer to the shitty window unit. Favoring the loud fucking rattling that his brain likely didn't need over the stuffy humidity in Eth's room. Took the fan out of his boy's room and moved it over to the master too to blow on him. But even after he'd laid down with his boy in that bed – over the whirl of the A/C and the humming spin of the fan, could still hear J and Olive having a rather heated conversation out on the back porch.

Didn't get the impression she was overly impressed with how the weekend was going either and E had made the observation they were fighting. Hank had just told him to stop eavesdropping and go back to sleep.

He'd done some eavesdropping of his own. Couldn't make out much of it out over the fucking rattle of the cooling devices, though. Enough to clue into something was going on. If that hadn't been clear enough already. Pretty much been seeping off Olive since fucking Mother's Day weekend. Even more when he got some one-on-one with her at Eth's birthday. And she was trying her fucking hardest to avoid making eye contact with him every time he got her alone this trip – and he'd had a whole lot of opportunity to get some Q&A's in with the disappearing acts that his son was pulling.

Heard Olive say something about talking needing to "talk to your dad" and "you need to tell him" and "you should've gone to him in the first place" and "he's not stupid. He knows something is going on, and you keep leaving me alone with him so he keeps asking me questions. You keep making me lie to him." At that point he'd heard Justin argue that he wasn't asking her to lie just to keep him uninvolved. That it was none of his business. That he could handle his own business and that "Pops will just blow it out of proportion, treat me like a little kid. I've got it sorted. Almost." At that point Olive had made some sort of overture about, "Then you need to get it sorted out. Now. This weekend. Because I don't care who these people are. I know he was your friend but we can't get mixed up with these kind of people if we're coming back to Chicago. Not with Henry, Justin." Been a real clatter when she'd come back in and come straight upstairs and into the room. Been a good long time before Justin had come back in – or at least before he came upstairs. Long enough that Voight had thought about getting up and going and arguing with his son about what the hell was going on and what the hell he'd gotten himself into now. But he'd left it because he just wasn't at the point that he had an interest in dealing with Justin's bullshit. Not after that day. The whole fucking weekend. He thought he was the big man who could handle his own business – so let him. Was already having to deal with the wake of some of his stupid ass decisions that weekend. Didn't feel like taking on anymore manager duties in that moment.

But whatever was going on sure hadn't fucking resolved itself by morning. Olive had come asking if he'd mind watching Henry for a couple hours. Framed it around her going with Justin to look at this housing situation his "friends" were supposedly getting all set up for them.

"Mmm …," Voight had grunted at her. "The place in Cicero?" She'd done such a deer in headlights look that it'd been pretty damn clear that she hadn't been told that line in this little charade that his son was trying to keep up. She'd stuttered around for a moment and then just settled on the fact that they were going to look at a couple places that morning. That sure smelled like bullshit from a mile away. Sure there was a lot of go-getters in the real estate game these days but really doubted many of them were hosting open houses or looking to get too many names on dotted lines on the Fourth of July. Least not any of the legitimate ones. Guys on the straight and narrow. A housing situation he'd feel comfortable about his grandson living in or a handshake he'd be encouraging his son to make. All a pretty good story. Or a pretty shit one. Clearly neither of them had thought it through too good to be feeding him those lines on Independence Day. Should've tried it on Saturday. He might've almost bought it then. At least given them the benefit of the doubt.

July Fourth? Didn't have no doubt that he didn't like whatever the two of them were walking into. What they were sneaking around with – giving both of their histories and the kind of people they'd run around with before Henry was on the scene. The kind of people that he thought having Henry had knocked some sense into them. The kind of people that he'd hoped getting Justin enlisted would get him away from and show him a whole different type of people and a new kind of responsibility to run with. Some real purpose and drive and loyalty.

Supposed that maybe things weren't working out that way. A lot of the times it seemed like no matter what he did with J, it just didn't work out the way he hoped. Sometimes he just didn't fucking understand. He had his shares of fights and resistance and challenges with Erin and with Magoo. They weren't exactly easy either. They frustrated the fuck out of him on a regular basis. They argued with him and were either pushing his buttons or pushing him away in their own ways but they always seemed to come back. At least so far. And shit seemed to work out with them. It wasn't perfect. Far from it but they let him help them enough – fucking listened to him enough – that they could get things half-ways sorted most of the time. Tell him the truth so he could lie – or fix it – for them. Let him in on the good, the bad and the ugly. Because at least then they all knew what they were dealing with and it could be dealt with.

J just didn't seem to operate that way. Didn't seem to bring him into the loop until it was too fucking late. Until it was just too fucked up.

But whatever the fuck he had in the hopper – he knew one thing – that he wasn't going to let him draw Henry into it too. Make him some sort of factor in some sort of experiment gone wrong. Draw him into the wrong side of Chicago life and the kind of people you ended up dealing with when he was still in diapers. Didn't need that. So, yeah, he'd babysit his grandson. Normally, he'd say he was doing it happily – because he took as much opportunity as he could to get face-time with his grandson. But given the circumstances, he wasn't entirely thrilled about it.

Was forgetting some of that now, though, sitting there watching his youngest and grandbaby play out back. Was letting H run around commando – UV shirt and nothing else. Poor little guy was battling some nasty diaper rash. Figured some of it was the humidity and a swamp diaper rubbing up against his ass and balls. Add in the water play and the fact that it seemed like Olive was right in the midst of introducing a lot of different solids to H. Got the sense he was getting to try some more fruit that weekend than maybe he got at home because Justin had some stick up his ass about fruit just being a way to get kids hooked on sweets. Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to Hank but he'd kept his mouth shut. Still had put the fruit on H's high chair tray, though. Figured since Olive seemed to manage the feedings, she could make the call on what would get removed from the tray and out of reach and she didn't seem to think she was as much of a Dr. Spock as Justin seemed to think he was.

Either way, H was definitely at the point that he need some airing out. Give his sore little ass a break. His fucking nuts too. That was a lot of chaffing for a little guy. Had put up a good wail even with the wet wipe when he was trying to clean the shit off his ass, balls and dick. Kid was flailing around so much and squirming away from the wet cloth, he'd even managed to get some on his feet and kick it up to his ear too. Real mess. Likely good Justin hadn't been there to see it. Though, Hank suspected he still knew how to wipe an ass better than Justin. Didn't see a whole lot of evidence that he was big on the whole diaper duty thing.

Magoo had had a little commentary about him not even being allowed to go downstairs in his underwear but he was letting Henry run around with it all hanging out. Not entirely true. Had taken him out back so if the kid did decide he was going to take another piss or shit, he wouldn't be mopping it up off his wife's hardwood floors. But he'd just told Ethan that if he wasn't comfortable with a half naked 11-month-old than he could go upstairs and take another nap since rest was the doc's orders. That had shut him up quick enough. Kid hadn't been quite ready for a nap then. Though, it was getting to the point that Hank was thinking about trying to get some lunch into the both of them and seeing if he could get a concurrent nap going.

Boys didn't look too interested at the moment. Had the sprinkler set up for them and H was just fascinated with it. Bear too. Damn mutt was over there with them snapping at the water midair even though he had a whole bowl of water over on the deck. E had been trying to show H how to jump through the spray. But the kid was still finding his land legs, wasn't in no position to be running and jumping. H was perfectly happy to stand in the one side of the yard waiting for the spray to come back to him and then squealing and stomping around each time it did. Staring at the water as the spray made its way back to the other side of the yard. Pointing at it and shrieking in demand for it to come back – which it always did. For now. Been going on long enough that Hank was thinking about turning it off. Was going to have his grass drowned if he didn't stop it soon. Have a real mud pit going on in the yard.

Mud pit seemed to be the goal of Eth, though. He had one of H's buckets and was working at collecting water. It was a bit of a process. He was going between attempting to catch it himself going along with the moving sprinkler or positioning it to catch the stream as the sprinkler went by. That wasn't working so well. Both H and Bear were taking a real interest when he was leaving it in one place. Bear had been doing real good and galloping over and taking sloppy gulps out of it and H had been toddling over and picking it up and proceeding to dump it all over himself.

"Henry!" E kept whining. "I'm trying to make you a dinosaur terrain!"

Apparently turning the sand box into a mud pit was part of that process. Gotten to the point that Eth had dumped so many buckets of water into the damn thing that Hank had called at him to cut it out. Thing was never going to dry out at that rate. Just going to be a muddy mess. Seemed to be exactly what Eth wanted, though. Spending a lot of time hovering over it, digging out pits and streams. Making little mountains and volcanoes and positioning the dinos that had been deemed old enough that they could be outdoor toys into the thing. Definitely was starting to look like some sort of diorama. Or at least a work in progress. H kept smacking at E's mountains and breaking them down. Splashing around in the little mud puddles that were apparently "tar pits" and grabbing at the placed dinos that he seemed pretty determined to lick the sand off of.

Two of them definitely needed some supervision and guidance on tolerating each other's isocracies. But sure took Hank back some. Funny that way. More things changed. More they stayed the same. Kids were always just kids. They didn't need anything too fancy. A hose, a box of sand, some buckets and shovels. Bunch of plastic dinosaurs that Hank was pretty sure Camille had mostly collected from garage sales and ninety-nine cent stores than anywhere fancy. None of these fucking twenty bucks for a single figure crap that were in the stores now. A bucket of used things that his boy had done just fine with. Still was and now his grandson was too.

That little plot of lawn that looked so small to adult eyes but that his kids had explored every nook and cranny of when they were little. Making forts in the snow and digging out tunnels in the garden. Turning the back building into a playhouse more than any workshop or garage that he'd been able to use it for. Hiding under the deck in hide and seek like no one could see them under there with all the spider webs. It'd worked for them. Been a decent place to raise a family. A good place for his grandson to come over and play now. A yard that his wife would've wanted to see her grandbaby playing in. Would've loved seeing their youngest goofing off like he was seven years old again with H.

But there was a clatter behind him and gave a glance over his shoulder to see Justin and Olive coming out the breezeway. He eyed them for a moment and just grunted some acknowledgement that he'd returned. Been a whole lot more than just a couple hours of babysitting. More like four.

Olive stood there smiling across the lawn at the two boys but the first thing out of Justin's mouth was, "Why doesn't my son have pants on?"

Hank didn't given look at him, just gestured to his grandson. "Airing him out," he put flatly. "Got diaper rash bad."

"You're outside," Justin put at him.

Hank gave him a glance at that and made a little pout and shrugged. "Don't got no audience," he said.

Justin gave him an unimpressed look. Hank just eyed him, moving his tongue around the front of his teeth in an attempt to not bite off his son's head. Figured if him or Olive disagreed with his decision to give his grandson a bit of relief, they could be the ones to strap the diaper back onto him.

"Get a lease signed?" Hank put to them flatly instead, shifting his eyes back out to the kids. They were a whole lot easier on the eyes.

Justin made a sound. "Erin around?" he asked rather than answering his question.

Hank shrugged. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"'Cuz wanted to talk to you, Pop, and would prefer to do it without her and Halstead keeping court," he said.

Hank cast him a look but instead his eyes landed on Olive. Her happy amusement of watching the boys had faded. Instead she looked all nervous again. That un-sureness and awkwardness that he'd been seeing in her lately – that was too easy to spot considering the way she'd walked smack into his family's life – just seeping from her.

"They aren't here," he provided with a smack.

Justin glanced at his watch. "Well, are they going to be here soon, Pop? Aren't you doing the whole barbecue, water fight, Independence Day thing?"

Hank gave him a bigger smack. "Planning on feeding the boys some leftovers from yesterday and putting them to bed," he put bluntly. "Magoo's not really in shape for his preferred Fourth of July routine. Supposed to be resting."

"Sure don't look like he's resting right now, Pop," Justin said.

Hank just smacked at him, glaring. "Don't think you need to start making your brother's health care any of your concern now. Haven't seemed too worried about it before."

"Yeah, whatever, Pop …," he muttered under his breath but took a seat at the patio table, gesturing for Olive to do the same. She looked even more nervous about that proposition but obeyed.

Obeyed far too easily for Hank's liking actually. Didn't think a wife's place was to love, honor and obey – no matter what matrimonial vows they might've taken. Could get on board with the first two but not the third. Maybe that was just him. Cami had declined to recite that little bit when they'd done their vows. Had a bit of a spat with the priest about it. Thought that they likely wouldn't end up getting married in the church because of it, which would've just had her folks fuming. But he'd always liked that about her. Was a spitfire. In the best kind of way. Been that way since they were kids and still busted his balls right up until his last morning with her. Held him in his place or knocked him back into it when he pushed out of bounds. He'd needed that, though. Helped him. Sometimes he was still acutely aware of how much he needed that. Her to keep him on the straight and narrow or at least to get him to do a reality check. Check and double check his side view mirrors so he wasn't in a hindsight position.

Justin needed a spitfire too. Likely more than Hank did at his age. He thought Olive had bits of that somewhere in here. That it bubbled to the surface on occasion. She was a red head – ginger – she had some red-hot blood some where in there. Some fight. But thought maybe she gave J more leeway than she should. Maybe she was still too worried about what her place in the family was or what that meant for Henry's place in the family. Hank didn't think she needed to worry too much about that. He'd push back against J if he fucked up things with his grandson and even if J proved to be less of a man than he'd taught him to be, Olive had sealed her place in the family by bringing Henry into their family. Hank wouldn't let the two of them slip away easily no matter what his son did or didn't do.

"Look, Pop," J said as he got seated and Olive fidgeted some more. "We've gotta talk."

"About what?" Hank put back to him. Didn't really need to ask. Could see where this was going a mile away. But he'd play dumb.

"So it looks like the housing situation we've been trying to push along, they're falling through," Justin said.

"Hmm…," Hank grunted with a little nod but moved his eyes back to his son and grandson at that point. Little guys were so engaged in their dino diorama that they hadn't noticed the intrusion on their little prehistoric world. The simpler place they were in. Likely best. Let them live there a bit longer. Not like J and Olive had called out any greeting to them on the opposite side of the yard anyway. "Good thing you've got a couple more months to get it sorted then," he allowed.

"Yea, lots of time," Olive had said rather pointedly and Hank had turned back to see her eyeing Justin warningly but he was shooting daggers back at her just as harshly before he turned back to his father.

"It might help things a long a bit, Dad, if we had a bit of an extra cash flow right now," J said.

Hank smacked at him. "Extra cash flow?"

"Just a bit," Justin argued. "I'd pay you back. Pop, I could get the money back to you by the time we got up to the city."

He eyed him. "How much we talkin' here?"

Justin shrugged. "Ten grand. Twenty."

Hank raised an eyebrow at him. "That don't sound like first-and-last or security deposit that I've heard of."

Justin shrugged at him. "Maybe we ain't looking to rent."

"Oh, yea?" Hank put to him. "What are you lookin' to do?"

"Pop, c'mon," Justin said, leaning forward a bit but Hank put his arm out on the table to stop him from getting in his space.

"Justin, if I had twenty grand sitting around, don't you think I'd be getting central air in here? Having the main floor of your mother's house ripped up so I could get a bathroom downstairs for your brother?"

Justin slumped back in his seat. "I know you've still got some of mom's insurance cash kicking around."

"Yea, I do," Hank shrugged. "I got your brother's share and your sister's share sitting in a bank account waiting for them. You already got your fair share. Got more than your fair share with having to pay your legal fees."

"You still going to hold that over me?" Justin put to him. "You had legal fees too, Pop. And you want to go that route? What about Eth getting more than his fair share in hospital and rehab costs—"

"Justin," Olive spat at him. But his son just gave her a glance before shifting those defiant eyes back to him.

Hank ran his tongue around his mouth. "Hope you aren't suggesting that that was money poorly spent," he seethed at him. "Because if that's what you're saying – you're even thinking – you aren't just hurting your brother or disrespecting me. You're breaking your mother's heart."

Justin let out a slow breath. "Pop—"

"It's got nothing to do with 'a fair share'," Hank spat at him even harder. "Didn't then and don't know. We're talking my boy's – my child's – life. And if you want to talk about 'fair share'. Jour brother has had to handle more than his fair share for a kid his age already. And, he's going to get just as much of a crack at what got put away for him as you did."

"OK, Pop," Justin said, faking calm as he leaned forward again, "but, what? You aren't going to give him that cash until he's like least twenty-one, right? We'd be squared up by then."

Hank just shook his head, smacking his annoyance and turning his head back to watch the kids.

"OK, fine, Pop," Justin interjected. "What about Erin's cash? Have you given that to her yet? You still think Mom would really want—"

Hank bolted his eyes back to his son. "This is not the weekend, the month, the fucking year to be challenging your sister's place in this family," he rasped at him with so much venom that J sat back slightly. "You got given your Mom's money so you could get your family started. If you didn't manage that properly," Hank shrugged.

Yet another fucking thing he'd apparently failed in teaching his son. Another fucking thing he was trying to do better on with Magoo. To make sure that he was set for his future. That he could manage it on his own because Dad wasn't always going to be there to bail him out. He wasn't always going to be able to. And he couldn't keep propping up his adult son. He was running out of favors to call in and the ones he had left, he needed to save them for more important things. He needed to look at the big picture.

Besides, he wasn't buying for a second that this cash was for a lease. He wasn't even sure he was buying that this was for some shitty deal or down payment. Even if they were talking a mortgage here, which he doubted, he didn't see the point in handing his son cash to live in some shitty house – bought with connections he wouldn't likely approve of – for him to live in all of three or four years and gotten himself into some sort of debt with people he shouldn't be associating with. Wasn't going to attach any money that he had left from the lax attempt that had been placed on the value of his wife's life and the value she had in their children's live, their family life to whatever the fuck this was actually all about.

"What you got in the safe these days, Dad?" Justin glared at him.

"Justin … don't …" Olive tried again. But his son's eyes stayed set on him.

"Not anything that belongs to our family," he graveled. His glare setting on his son even more. The safe was off limits for this discussion. Should know better than to even bring it up considering what him running his mouth off and Olive running her mouth off had gotten them all into. Had been an unspoken rule that they weren't going to talk about it and as part of them not talking about it – there wasn't supposed to be no mention of what was behind that shelf in the basement and what was inside that hole in the wall either. But J – and Olive – had already gotten everything out of there that they had any chance of getting too.

"Right, Pop…," Justin shook his head.

"J, I'm not going to be manipulated into giving you money this family don't got," he pressed at him.

Justin flared his nostrils and glared across the yard – just as a hand came over the high back gate and rattled at the sticky latch until it opened and Erin and Halstead came into the yard. All fucking smiles and greeting both the boys before they'd even stepped onto the lawn.

"Hey," Halstead at greeted, hauling a watermelon under his water and juggling it out to show Eth. "Got the urgent message about your watermelon emergency."

E lit up and rose out of the sand box. "I told you we didn't get a big enough one," Magoo had blurted at him.

Halstead had cocked an eyebrow at him. "Think we got a big enough one. And think you're lucky that Will advocate for you with watermelon as hydration," he said.

E glowed at that, taking the watermelon from him and starting to haul it over to the deck. "Look, Dad, doctor's orders!" he called across the yard.

"Mmm…," Hank grunted and stood, getting up to retrieve it from the kid, watching as Erin crouched down into the sand box to look at E's and H's little project. She oohed and ahhed at it a bit but then showed H a soccer ball.

"Look what we found at Uncle Jay's apartment, Henry," she encouraged. Henry eyed it and then grabbed at the ball, pulling it to his chest. Thing was half as big as him and slipped from his slippery grip. But he toddled after it and started slapping at it like it was a drum, Erin following and smiling. "Yea, I think we'll have lots of fun with that this afternoon. Jay can show you lots of tricks."

Ethan was already headed back over now that Hank had retrieved the melon. "Jay knows how to juggle the ball, Henry," he said excitedly. "Are you going to do it?" He finally cast a look up at Justin and Olive on the deck. "It's awesome. It's so hard to do. I've tried. You should try, Justin!"

Justin made no comment. Still sitting there pouting, though, Olive cast him a look and got up from her chair to go and join the other kids – the grown-up ones and the not so grown-up ones. But it seemed like the only baby was sitting there on the deck.

Set the watermelon on the edge of it and looked at his son. "You know, Justin," he allowed, "been sitting there too this morning doing some of my own mental math. Know what I came to?"

Justin shrugged. "Sure you're goin' to tell me …"

"Yea, I am," Hank smacked at him. "Came to two figures. One was that your sister was your age now when we lost your mom. When E was in the hospital and when she had to come home to take care of you. That she was bumping between walking the beat, checking in on your brother at the hospital, and keeping house here – being there for you."

"Yea … Saint Erin …," Justin muttered.

Hank just shrugged. "Erin's no saint," he said. "Far from it. But she's been a real good sister to both of you." Justin made no comment so Hank just smacked again. "Other thing I realized watching those two," he said with a little gesture to Ethan and Henry, "that E is about the age you were when he was born. And it got me wondering how you'll be feeling if when he's your age and Henry's his – and Ethan's treating him the way you treat him now."

"Pop—" Justin sighed at him.

But Hank just shrugged. "Why don't you take some time to think on that," he said. "I'm goin' see about what my family needs that isn't a wad of cash." And walked across the yard.

Figured he'd see about starting some new traditions with them. Fourth of July walk. Go down to the park. Do something simple. Time with his family, the dog, and a soccer ball. The real things that matter. Where the focus should be. Let his oldest boy sit on the porch and sulk. Hoped J'd do some thinking while he was at it. Some self-reflection that wasn't so narcissistic. But Hank wasn't going to count on that. Not anymore. At the point that he wasn't sure he could count on his son for too much – beyond his sweaty palm sticking out at him and his son telling him some half-assed, bold-faced lies while trodden all over everything him and his mom had worked so hard to establish – to give to their family – all the while claiming it wasn't enough and demanding respect from his father that he just kept finding so many ways to yank right down.


	122. Park Your Ass

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES WAY BACK. IT GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 119 - Commando.**

Voight walked across the park and lowered himself to sit a good five week away from Halstead. The young detective seemed to be giving him a wide breadth that day. All of them really. A little distant. Expect maybe from Magoo. Or at least he was doing a decent job at entertaining the kid so him and Erin could get some Henry time while it was available. But didn't want the guy feeling like he was some sort of babysitter – even if it looked like he was sort of using it as a reasonable excuse to keep his distance from everyone else.

Halstead gave him a bit of a look as he got seated but didn't say anything. Just went back to looking across the field to where Olive and Erin were doting on little H. The lil' nipper was being a pain in the ass for every other kid at the playground. Had decided that the only thing he was interested in doing at the park was piling wood chips on the end of the slide. Least that was when he wasn't trying to shove the damn things in his mouth.

Him gnawing on that shit was enough of a fucking health hazard. But he was working at setting up the kids who came flying down the slide get an ass-crack full of splinters. Or nearly topple him over face in the process. Though, they all had been doing a pretty good job at yanking the little guy out of the way before he got kicked in the face. Sometimes they'd even managed to do a reasonable proximity at batting the debris away so the older kids weren't getting their legs and asses scraped up. Managing to escape the glares of some of the other parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles at the park too who seemed less than impressed with H's chosen activity. Voight didn't much care. Used to dealing with stare downs. Weren't enough people over on the playground to be too worried about it. And, it was better to just let H have at it. Pulling him away was just resulting in show-stopping wailing. Him and Magoo were both just about in their witching hours at that point.

A glance behind his shoulder only confirmed that. Ethan and Bear were flaked out in the shade under a tree a good hundred feet away from Halstead. The kid was doing a reasonable proximity at faking a nap but Voight could tell a pout a mile away and the kid was definitely in a pout.

"What's his problem?" he graveled at Halstead, shifting his eyes back to watch his girl, daughter-in-law and grandson too. Better show going on there. Sometimes he swore that teenaged tantrums weren't all that different from a toddlers. Terrible Thirteens. That was the thing with kids. Just got bigger and louder. And the kind of bullshit you dealt with just got bigger each year too. Bigger the kid, bigger the problems.

Halstead gripped at the gnawed apart tennis ball he had in his hand – the battered old tennis racket of Camille's that had turned into a dog ball whacker sitting next to him. "Got upset that I wasn't letting him toss out the ball for the dog," the guy said.

"Mmm," Voight grunted and gave his kid another glance.

Thank God it was only going to be forty-eight hours he had to keep his kid inactive. Got to hope that it was only going to be that week they needed to phase him back into his activities. Because getting Magoo to keep still, even with his fucking disability, was a chore. And arguing with him about it was exhausting and frustrating. The kid was as stubborn as fuck. That came with its positives and negatives when dealing with a kid with a chronic and progressive illness.

"It's Meltdown O'Clock," Halstead added.

"Mmm," Voight acknowledged again and gestured to the playground. "Henry too. Going to get them both packed up and home for a rest in a few. They're still trying to get him in the swing. Want some pictures."

Halstead made small sound of acknowledgement and Voight gave him a look – weighing his posture. Weighing his posture all day.

But he looked back to the girls. Good to watch them. Erin did a good job as an aunt. Shouldn't surprise him. She did real good as a big sister too to his boy. Different watching her with a baby, though. She let up around Henry. Could see it in her eyes. How much she liked the kid. Relished the time she got with him. Voight could understand that. Felt the same way. They're only that age once. Bring out a different part of you. Made you think about a lot of different things. Feel them.

Funny that he'd never put too much credence into the possibility of Erin bringing him home a grandkid. Even when she was still a girl she spouted at him and Camille about not wanting kids – ever. Had been sure to press into their faces in that snotty teenaged, arm-crossed snark that she was on birth control and used condoms as soon as they lay down their rules about her socializing and boyfriends and parties and curfews. Put up a bit of a stink about their rules. Being home by nine on school nights. Being home by eleven on weekends. No boys in the house without him or Camille there and definitely no boys upstairs ever. That they wanted to know the names of her friends and they wanted addresses of any parties she was going to. That she was to call if she got into something stupid – drugs, alcohol, unwanted advances from little assholes who couldn't keep their hands to themselves or their pants on. And that she wasn't to be getting into cars with any idiots pulling that kind of crap either. Seemed pretty straightforward – fair – but she'd still tried to fight it. Wanted to be taken in but wanted her independence. Taken a while for her to accept that it didn't quite work that way when you were a fourteen-year-old kid in their home. And if she wanted to stay in their home, she was going to have to learn to play by their rules.

She'd only ever been so good at following them. She found the grey areas and the loopholes. Did her best to test boundaries. But he loved that about her even when she'd been fucking frustrating. Still was. Still was a pain in the ass. Likely always would be. And really, she only ever pushed so hard because she had her abandonment issues. Never wanted to do something so bad that she'd get kicked out to the curb. And even though there'd been some threats about that. A list of things that would send her packing, Voight didn't think him or Camille would've ever really followed through on that. You can't bring a kid like Erin into your home and just send her on her way, no matter the bullshit she pulled. Couldn't help her work through some of the shit and trauma she'd been through to just pull the plug. Couldn't invest in a person that way to just throw up your hands and walk away. Didn't work like that. Parenting. At least not for him and Camille.

Thought that some of that – parenting … the right way … or as right as him and Camille had been able to manage – had rubbed off on Erin a bit. Saw it in the way she dealt with Magoo. Saw it now in how she was with Henry. And made him think that her previous aversion to babies might be fading. That she might at least consider it. In that age and stage that she might be starting to hear and feel that biological clock a bit. Had that little nephew of hers staring her in the face too and would only be seeing more of him come September. And had a decent guy who seemed like he'd do a decent job in the parenting department too – despite what example he might've had or at least what his relationship with his father seemed to be these days. Got the impression it was pretty non-existent. But he saw how Halstead dealt with Ethan too. Did a good job. So even though he was a cop – and Voight knew all the failings that could bring in terms of managing family time and parenting and fatherhood – he thought he'd do an OK job. If him and his girl were ever ready to have kids. If they could move beyond the whole work thing. The put it off until this milestone and that milestone had been passed. Whatever ladder they were climbing or status they were trying achieve in the city or CPD.

"She's good with him," Voight said, pointing over at the swing set. Had finally managed to get H in the damn baby swing. Wasn't wailing but the lil guy had that unsure look of his. Cute as fuck. But H was only complacent to a point. He had lungs on him. Real good at making all sorts of noise when he wanted to. So they better get their damn pictures and video quick.

Looked like Olive was trying to get some motion shots or maybe some actual shots of H with Erin. Voight wasn't sure how many of those were around. He made sure to get some pictures of both of kids with their nephew when H was home but wasn't sure that J was collecting any for prosperity. Need things like that, though. Because you just never know. Shit comes up. People disappear from your life before they're supposed to. Need to hold onto the memories. Need to record them a bit to jog the memory too. Had learned that the hard way.

"Yea …," Halstead acknowledged loosely.

Voight gave him another glance. But Halstead did give H a real wide breadth. Voight knew why. Justin did his best to make it uncomfortable and awkward. Real unfair of him. Erin hadn't done that with Olive. And even though E was more cautious in his relationship with Olive and had some of his filter issues, social awkwardness retardation and occasional teenaged rudeness, he was generally pretty cordial with her too. He'd actually been real good with both Olive and H that trip. Had been real happy with his youngest's behavior. Wish he could say the same for his older boy. But couldn't.

Had overheard J giving Erin a hard time about referring to Halstead as 'Uncle Jay'. Voight didn't see the fucking harm. Actually thought it was a decent idea to start getting it into the kid's lexicon now. But J had to go and be an ass about it to his sister. Knew Justin was trying more to make a point with Halstead but it'd just ruffled feathers all around.

His son had also had to go and rip into Halstead when he was sharing a slice of watermelon with him on the back deck steps. Voight had thought it was a fucking Kodiak moment. The kind of shot that Camille would've been falling all over herself to get taken and would've had it framed and in the cabinet in the kitchen before the sun set. Magoo, Halstead and H all sitting on the steps slurping on their watermelon. Magoo making nearly as big of mess of himself as Henry who had the juices of the little piece Halstead had torn off his wedge of him running down to his elbows as he manhandled it. His two little men – E and H – both having the juices dripping off their chin. The faint red staining the front of their tees in their vigorous eating. Only thing that would've made it a better shot was if J had put an end to his sulk at the table and had gone to sit with them to do the rehydration before their walk to the park. But instead of doing that he'd just decided to go at Halstead for feeding his kid "sugar" and the seeds in the seedless watermelon being some sort of choking hazard. Even Olive had told him to cut the shit out. But the little rant had been enough for her to go and retrieve her son and work at cleaning him up. Put an end to the whole little Fourth of July photo shoot possibility.

Wasn't that fair. Was only setting shit up to be more strained when they all got back in September. Wasn't like Erin and Halstead were going to stop coming around in September. Or at least Voight hoped he didn't get into some sort of situation where his adult children were calling home to see if the other set was at the house before they dropped by. That kind of bullshit would just piss him off. Would piss him off more because Erin deserved to have a relationship with her nephew. Halstead was a part of her life – her fiancée, hopefully they'd get their asses in gear soon and it'd be husband. He also didn't want it to get into some sort of situation where Halstead didn't feel comfortable coming over and Erin was having to make some sort of choice about where and how and who she spent her time with when it came to family. It wasn't some sort of competition. But Justin sure seemed to try to make it that way. To push Halstead into some sort of corner.

Voight knew too that Justin had been trying that again on the Ethan front. Had given Halstead some sort of fucking ultimatum about stepping back from his brother. His kid either had a lot of balls or no brains to be doing that after Halstead had already gotten in his face about his latest Ethan gaff. Didn't need push the guy much farther and have them end up in a real brawl. But maybe Justin needed that to get some real sense knocked into him.

So he just jutted behind him at Eth. "You're good with him," he offered. Some sort of support. Some sort of acknowledgement. He didn't think it was Halstead who was the one who needed to take some steps back when it came to Eth. Was Justin who needed to step up – after he got his head out of his ass and managed to twist it on straight.

Halstead just shrugged. "He's easy."

Voight let out a small amused disagreement. Knew that was a lie. Wasn't too much that was easy about Magoo. Easy enough kid to love. But daily life with E wasn't exactly easy. He was a handful. Just turning into a bigger and moodier one. Thing with Erin and Halstead, though, was they handed back the sass and attitude as much as E dished it out. Both of them were real firm with him even if E had figured out ways to have each of them wrapped around his little finger. Kid wasn't that stupid. But kids were good at figuring out what worked in getting the adults in their life on side for the things that were important to them. Manipulative little fucks. Voight would forgive them for it, though. Knew he had his own soft points with his youngest too. Knew too that E had figured some of them out and went right for them on occasion. Soft underbelly. But the important thing was that E had some other adults in his life. People who cared about him. More than just Voight. He needed that. Voight fucking needed that too. And he still was going to hold out some hope that he was going to be able to add Olive and Justin to that list of grown-ups there for his son come September. Though, he had a feeling that he'd likely just be starting out with Olive. But at least it was a start.

He looked back over his shoulder. "Ethan," he barked across the space and his son stirred slightly, giving him a defiantly pathetic look. Bear lifted his head to take stock of him too. Fucking mutt, always keeping watch over Magoo. At least he was good for something. "Get over here," he ordered.

He watched as E took his sweet-ass time getting up but managed to hobble over. Definitely looking a little sore and tired at that point.

"Sit," Voight ordered when his son got next to him. The mutt panting dog breath into his face on his opposite side.

Eth made another big production out of it but got himself back down on the grass. Leg brace only gave him so much mobility but figured the thing was a better option with the fatigue that day than the crutches. Fucking plastic looked – and smelled – of sweat at that point, though. Would have to get it off him when they got home and give it a good disinfection wipe down. Kid was likely going to need another shower or bath to bring his core down anyways. It'd help him sleep too. Get him down for at least a couple hours that afternoon.

"You giving Halstead a hard time?" Voight asked.

Ethan cast the guy an accusing look. "No," he muttered.

"Mmm…," Voight grunted. "Know that Dr. Manning said you weren't supposed to be doing much beyond walking from Point A to Point B to bed the next couple days."

Ethan made no comment and just leaned forward to pull some grass out of the ground. Didn't like getting caught and wasn't going to put up an argument. A lot of times E knew when he was in a losing battle. Generally was one whenever it came to his health – if he wasn't following protocol. But still, his son not getting in some sort of last word was just further indication he was about done.

"How you feel about picking up Lulu's for lunch on the way home?" Voight put to him. Distracting statement while he checked how cold his son's hands were and then felt how clammy his arms were as his moved his hand to test the pallor on his face and the glean of sweat on his forehead. Definitely time to call it a day.

Question was enough to send Eth's eyes flying to him, though. "Are they open?" he asked.

Voight gave him a shrug. "Walk back that way. Find out," he said. Eth's face got some color back at that. Glowed a bit. "Go tell your sister and Olive we're going to pack up."

E fumbled to get himself back upright and Voight shoved his hand into his armpit to help right him. The kid took off at a bit of a faster clip over to the playground at that.

"Magoo," he called after him and the kid gave a brief backward glance. "Get the water bottle out of the diaper bag. You take a good drink."

Kid didn't give a comment. Kept going. But he kept his eyes on him to make sure he followed instructions.

"You OK with Lulu's?" Voight put to Halstead.

The guy shrugged. "Sure …"

Voight nodded. Still one of the best deals in Chicago. Couldn't go wrong with their three dollar combos. Magoo could suck back one of their smoked turkey legs like it was nothing. Easy way to get something into E now so he could work at forcing him to take a nap without a fight when the got back home. Let Olive work at getting Henry down too without a growling stomach. Because he really doubted that Justin would have any lunch waiting for them. Wouldn't be surprised if Justin was either still sitting there with that pout-face on the deck or that he'd taken off entirely. It'd be one or the other. No in between.

"Erin said it'd likely be OK if I invited Will to come around for dinner," Halstead said and tossed the tennis ball across the field again. Fucking bear caught sight of it out of the corner of his eye and halted his pursuit of Eth to go tearing after the ball.

Voight watched the mad puppy dash for a minute before turning to give Halstead a little nod. "OK," he allowed.

Could say no but figured Halstead likely had a whole lot of other things he'd prefer to be doing this weekend rather than hang around with the family drama that had been going on. Knew that him and Erin both were likely wishing they'd just gone ahead with their Plan A of taking off to Halstead's cabin fo the long weekend. That they hadn't adjusted their plans when Justin once again had given them last minute notice that him and his family were going to come up. Voight would've understood if Erin and Halstead had gone ahead with their plan. Deserved it. Didn't get a lot of weekends where they were both fully off rotation – let alone long weekends. Young. Deserved to have their own life. Get some alone time. Enjoy their summer too. Maybe he should've said as much to them. But he'd let them make their own decision. Figured that them being there was likely more Erin's decision, though. So the least he could do was let Halstead have a meal with his family too. Only one person shouldn't be an inconvenience unless Justin decided to put on more of a spectacle for them all.

"Still doing the barbecue if we're grabbing lunch now?" Halstead asked.

Voight shrugged. "I'll throw something on ahead of Eth's meds. He'll still need to eat."

Halstead nodded. "No go on the fireworks?"

"Mmm …," Voight grunted. "Manning said fireworks would be a bad idea."

Halstead's bobbed a bit again and he looked across the field to the kids as the dog returned with the ball. He pitched it again. "He clue into that yet?"

Voight shook his head. "Hasn't asked," he put flatly. "Leaving it until he does. Least we'll get a water works show."

Halstead made a small sound and then pushed himself to his feet. "I'm going to help with the baby gear …"

Voight nodded and watched him start off. Olive wouldn't need too much help. Had a real cross-country stroller to jam Henry's diaper bag and all his other gear into. But figured it was more he was going to go and touch base with Erin. That was good. Voight liked that. Liked that his girl had a touchstone. She needed that. Voight needed to know she had that.

"Jay," he called after him too and the guy stalled his step, giving him a look. "Just so you know, we're lucky to have you." He jutted his chin over at where Erin was digging the water bottle out for his brother while Olive worked at getting Henry fastened into the stroller as he put up a fuss about the change of circumstances. "Good to know someone's got their backs – 24/7."

Halstead looked at him. One of those handful of times where the guy did the deer in headlights thing as he tried to figure out how to respond. The times where he sometimes didn't respond. That he just walked away. But this time he gave a little nod. "Yea. Always," he said and turned to finish his walk to join the group of most important people in Voight's life. The best things in his life. The best things he'd done with his life. Despite all his mistakes.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: The chapter immediately before this (Pillow Talk) was posted less than 24 hours ago. Might want to check to make sure you didn't miss it. Jay/Erin.**

 **Chapter 140 was posted a while ago but the reader numbers are weird on it so you might want to check you didn't miss it too (Cooked). It's a jump back in time to Ethan's birthday. It's a Hank POV. It's an introduction of characters (Ethan, Ethan's mom and Eva) for some upcoming chapters and also a little arc.**

 **However, I think I'm likely going to jump to doing a couple chapters around Justin's death at this point. But we'll see. Your feedback and reviews are appreciated.**


	123. Bitch Slap

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 142 - Park Your Ass.**

Erin felt eyes on her and looked up from her continued reading of the novel that was supposed to be Ethan's for summer school. Hank had forced Ethan to bring it home for his brief summer holidays before school started. But his insistence that E was going to read the two assigned book in summer school his self, combined with Ethan's insistence that he "deserved" a "holiday" before starting school again tomorrow, had meant that the kid hadn't even cracked the cover.

Erin had decided to break Hank's "read it yourself" rule because she had felt Ethan teetering toward a real mid-afternoon meltdown and she suspected that it was about to be combined with his realization that his Fourth of July wasn't going to include fireworks. She didn't feel like dealing with the water works about that combined with one of his teenaged rages and temper tantrums about the lack of fairness and inhumanity he experienced. So she'd gone for the forced naptime combined with distraction method.

It'd only partially worked. She could still feel him fighting to stay awake – to push himself closer and closer to meltdown point, to try to be the big man in front of his brother and avoid any commentary about a thirteen-year-old needing to take an afternoon rest. But after he'd protested her picking up Sherlock Holmes off his dad's bedside table as "Dad reads that to me", she'd gone and dug the stupid summer reading out of his school bag. It hadn't even made it out of the bag apparently. Or if it had, it'd gotten tossed back into it pretty quickly to be put out of sight and mind and prying eyes and demands from his dad about updates on where he was with reading it.

She actually thought Ethan would like it. If he gave it a chance. Though, it was likely a little above his reading level. But she usually ended up feeling like pretty much everything was above his reading level. Doing homework with him was so incredibly frustrating. But he was going to have to make it through this novel and one other of his choice if he wanted to get caught up close enough to grade level to get to advance with the rest of his class. Erin didn't get the impression he really cared about if he was stuck with the same group of kids in the fall. But she knew he would care a whole lot if he ended up as the butt of some joke for not moving ahead with everyone else. She knew that it took a special kind of "stupid" to "fail" when you were already on an IEP. The kids wouldn't get that it didn't have anything to do with Eth's smarts. It had a whole lot more to do with how much classroom time he'd missed that year. Even on an IEP, with his learning challenges, when he was missing that much school, it was impossible to keep up. So now they just had to get him caught up.

It was going to be such a fucking chore. One she wasn't looking forward to. One that she really wished she only had to be only could have limited involvement in. But she knew that Hank wouldn't be able to drag him through all of July himself. Ethan was going to have to be an active participant. His assigned summer instructors were hopefully going to be less distracted by the number of kids they had to manage and could focus on him more in school hours. But either way, she knew she was going to have to dedicate some of her off-hours – some of her summer – to getting Eth through summer school too.

And it was going to be that much a shitshow now with the fucking concussion and them supposed to be limiting his reading and screentime for the next week. That didn't exactly make for a productive summer school session. Not when Eth was basically going to be stalled for the first week of a four-week session of class. It made her so fucking mad at Justin. He had no clue what kind of impact this could have if Eth wasn't able to participate fully. The potential of Hank losing the summer semester tuition fee – which she'd seen the pamphlets and applications forms on his desk. This wasn't fucking cheap. For Ethan to get caught up in summer, Hank was paying almost as much as he had to pay for a whole academic year after St. Ignatius applied the bursary to Ethan. It wasn't chump change and the school had made hiring and staffing decisions in the Educational Assistance classroom based on the assumption that Eth was going to be there. They weren't going to be impressed if he suddenly wasn't able to attend and they were also going to be pretty unimpressed about even having to figure out how to further accommodate him in that first week. That hopefully just first week.

Summer school and that giant wad of cash that Hank had to go and had to the school likely had a whole lot to do with the fact that he had put off getting central air installed in the old house. Even beyond the fact that it was Camille's house and that the building was so old and seeped air so much, Erin didn't want to imagine what the heating and electric bill would look like when the air conditioner was running. Though, she did think the Camille argument was weak. She distinctly remembered Camille saying nearly every summer that they needed to live on a lake.

"We do live on the lake," Hank would reply. "The whole city's on a lake."

"Well, I can't feel that lake breeze, Hank. So you better go put that window unit in – now," she'd argue with him.

"After shift," would be Hank's evitable answer.

But by then Hank and Camille would be full into parenting mode and family time and a chore like dragging up the window unit would get lost in the mix until someone provided the lax excuse of "it cools off when the sun goes down", which wasn't exactly true. But it'd be the little dance the family went through until they were truly leaving in a hot box – that the real humidity of the city hit and even Lake Michigan's winds couldn't knock it out of the air. Then someone would haul the thing up the stairs and struggle to get it into the window. There'd be swearing in a house where Camille presided over language. Though, that air conditioner usually even drew some colorful word choice from her lips each summer.

That window unit was long gone. It'd actually taken a tumble out the window the summer they'd lost Camille. When her and Justin had tried to put it in on their own and didn't know the tricks of the thing. They'd near killed a cat in the process. Or at least claimed one of its lives. When Hank had come home on one of his check-ins that were little more than him making sure they were breathing and him taking a shower and changing his clothes, Erin had thought they'd about claimed one of his remaining lives when he'd seen the smashed up unit sitting at the side of the house waiting to be put to the curb.

"That was your mother's," was all he'd said. But his face had said a whole lot more. That that little summer dance about the fucking air conditioner was part of the relationship, part of the family, part of their history – and it'd just crashed landed like the rest of the family life they'd had. That air conditioner unit wasn't ever going to work again. It was brutalized beyond recognition. Much like their family had looked like in that moment. Those months. And arguable for months and years after it. Maybe in a way still now, though, Erin liked to think they were getting to the point they were better. They were functional even if their unit maybe worked about as well as the damn ancient second-hand thing of Al's that Hank had shoved into the window now.

The window unit had never been replaced after its crash landing. Just like their family hadn't started to really build until last summer, there hadn't been another air conditioner in the house until Ethan came home and Henry was on the way. Until their family had started to feel more like a unit again. But maybe just like the fucking second-hand piece of shit that Al had dug out of his garage for them, they weren't entirely functional. Or at least it didn't have the capacity to push out all the hot and humid air – just like maybe they didn't have the capacity to entirely put the past behind them and heal no matter how much they tried. That they always seemed to trip up when they got back in that house together.

Just like Justin had again fucking tripped up that weekend. And now it again was having implications for more lives than his. And it, as usual it seemed, was likely going to have the largest implications for Eth if he did flameout at summer school. If Father Carusso did listen to the teacher recommendations to hold him back a year. If Hank agreed to that recommendation, because as much as none of them wanted that for Eth, it was also pretty clear to all of them that he was struggling academically and he was behind. And then Eth would again be left to the sharks that are private school teenagers. Ripped apart and poked at in his wounds that weren't yet healed and likely never would be entirely healed.

And who's fault was that?

But it'd never been a fault game. Even though fingers could be pointed. She supposed all of them took the blame in their own way. They felt their own guilt. They were still grieving and processing and trying to move on and live again in their own way. But it was also a game of taking responsibility. And that was just life.

So taking responsibility right now – it was getting Ethan through his recovery from his concussion and then getting him through summer school while dealing with his usual day-to-day bullshit of him being sick and this summer heat wave combined with the usual Chicago humidity, making it even worse.

So what she could do was read him some of his first assigned novel and get him to rest. And she'd achieved both. Ethan either hadn't been that interested in the book or he'd really been that tired – like Natalie said he would be – and he'd fallen asleep.

Erin had kept reading. She didn't really feel like going back downstairs yet. Hank was out. Jay had gone over to see about retrieving Will and saving him from himself. And as much as she liked playing with Henry, she really didn't like doing it under Justin's microscope and she really didn't feel like visiting with him – and Olive. So she'd taken on nap duty and decided to take a break herself too.

Until now. Because apparently Justin had decided she'd disappeared too long and that the best thing to do was to invade her space.

"What are you doing in there?" he directed at her – far too loudly considering Eth was finally asleep and in desperate need of it … on doctor's orders.

She glared at him moment over the top of The Giver. But then shut the book, making a hushing gesture at Justin and got up from Hank and Camille's bed and walked out the room, giving Justin a firmer glare, as she pulled the door closed behind her.

"What's it look like I'm doing, Justin?" she muttered at him and moved to push by him. To go back downstairs with Olive and Henry. To check to see if Hank and Jay were back. Though, she knew she would've heard them if they were. That Hank would've likely come upstairs to check on Eth himself if he were.

"Why the hell is E sleeping in the master?" Justin pressed at her, stepping in front of her and blocking her way.

She crossed her arms and glared at him. "If you wake him up …" she threatened but he just glared at her more like she'd committed some sort of atrocity by crossing the threshold into his parents' bedroom. Like that was some sort of new boundary Justin had decided to set and to imply she'd invaded. Like it was some sort of new level of inappropriateness that he was going to hold against her.

Like she was going to forget that on weekends that Hank was working, that her and Justin would end up piled in the bed with Camille. That Camille would be in the middle and Justin was still little enough that she'd joke about being a "mommy sandwich". That they'd look at the paper – "only the good parts on Saturday", Camille would say. The comics and the crossword and Jumble puzzle and the weekend's TV listing to see if there was a Saturday night or Sunday afternoon movie that they could watch as a family. And some lucky weekends, they'd look at the movie listings too. That maybe depending on what Hank was stuck doing that weekend, they'd meet him in some greasy spoon for lunch before Camille would take them to a matinee. If they hadn't met up with Hank than in the theater it'd be a "mommy sandwich" again on this time she'd be holding a large popcorn for the three of them.

Hank and Camille's bedroom might've been the only room in the house that had a lock on its door. But it'd never been off-limits. The door was open when you were coming home after curfew and if Hank or Camille weren't waiting for you in the front room, you knew they'd be shadowing that doorway when you got to the top of the stairs. That if you were puking – whether it was from the flu or from under-aged drinking that was more than frowned upon – that door would also be open and they'd be in the bathroom holding your hair and putting a cold cloth against your forehead and helping you clean up. That Justin had crawled into his parents bed more than once, even after she had moved in and he was pushing into his pre-teens, with a cold and raging cough that kept him up. That Ethan ended up sprawled between his parents in that bed with his endless ear infections as a little boy and his insistence that Justin's snoring was actually a monster in the closet, no matter how many times they checked the closet for him. That Hank and Camille's bed was were storytime took place when the boys were little – and that there'd been nights even as a jaded teenager, that Erin had gone and sat at the foot of the bed to hear the latest chapter in Hank's monotone. That maybe she'd even gone in there herself after her twentieth birthday – more than once, to the point, that Ethan as a little boy used her presence as an excuse to get a picture book before Daddy read him a story. She knew that there were breakfasts in bed on Mother's Day and Father's Day – and sometimes just because. Where that because was likely that Hank knew he'd been undercover or on night shifts or away from home more than he should be and his wife had picked up all that slack at home and he was making a small gesture by bringing her a full breakfast in bed. That it was the bed where the boys charged into their parents' room on Christmas morning wanting to run down the stairs and get to dig into their stockings.

It wasn't a room that was off-limits. And it never had been.

Hank might've adopted it more for himself since Camille had been gone. It might've become another one of his shrines to Camille. And Erin knew it would likely be the last room in the house that ever lost all traces of her. Even as other rooms in the house slowly became more masculinized. As you saw more of Hank in them. As Ethan left his little boy and teenaged boy sprawl around the main floor and his bedroom became more his own space. As Hank incrementally let himself move things and change things around the house. As he gave some more of the items away – to Justin and to her and to Ethan. As he made himself let go – bit by bit – despite the paint on the walls not changing, and the Camille's haphazard attempts at being an artist up on the walls capturing places they'd been and places she hoped to some day go and to take all of them too, despite the framed pictures of the family and their lives and milestones that had almost exclusively been selected by Camille, despite all the furniture (with the possible exceptions of the desk chair in the office and the already dated widescreen TV in the front room) still being all items that Camille had picked or been given back in the late-'80s when they'd first been married and had never really felt the need or had the resources to update despite the era or the wear they'd been put through. But it hadn't meant that Hank had closed the door on the bedroom.

If anything, Erin suspected that her pulling that door shut now, might've been one of the first times that door had been closed since Camille had been gone. Hank always had that door open at least a crack. To hear what was going in the house. To listen for his children. Or maybe still in some sort of subconscious disillusionment that he was still waiting for Camille to come back from one of her scattered away fish investigations out on the Great Lakes. That she'd come back in the house and bring in the smell of the lake water and the lake breeze and fish with her. That she'd likely also have a cooler of fish for them to work through for dinner over the next two weeks too. And that Hank would tease her about the odor, only for her to poke back at him about how much he reeked when he came back from one of his outings to the Social Club or the worse odor of if he didn't shower and change before coming home after being on a stake out or surveillance assignment. Men stuck in a cramped space for hours or days and ingesting nothing but fast food and junk food. It was an odor that somehow reminded Erin of living with Bunny. But after she'd tried to join in the teasing once and made that comment, she'd noticed that Hank never came back from one of his assignments smelling like that anymore. That he must've started going back into District or a safe house or something to shower and change before returning home to his family. Eliminating any triggers or memories or suspicions or questions that he didn't want floating in any of their minds.

If Hank hadn't wanted Ethan in that room, that boundary hadn't been made clear. Ethan was old enough that he didn't go crawling into Daddy's bed on his own accord, running from monsters anymore. But Erin knew that Hank brought his son into his room on his own accord more than once since this diagnosis. After hospital visits. On days Ethan was particularly hurting. And, Hank had never told her that the space was off-limits for her to go check on her brother or to lay with him and try to offer him some comfort herself.

"You shouldn't be in Dad's room," Justin pressed at her.

She shrugged. "I'll let him tell me, if he has a problem with it."

Justin glared at her and gestured at the door. "Ethan shouldn't be in there either," he stated as more than a order – like she was supposed to go and wake him and move him right that second.

Erin stepped back in front of the door at that – stopping Justin's potential movement. Because if he woke his brother, he might end up with her in his face and she didn't think she'd be as restrained about hitting him as Jay had been the previous day.

"That's where your dad put him down last night," she hissed at him in whispered firmness. "It's where I put him down now."

"It's just weird," Justin spat right back. "He's thirteen and he's sleeping with Pop."

"It's where the fucking air conditioner is, Justin," she stated the obvious for him. "And your dad likely wanted to keep an eye on him last night, seeing as someone gave him a concussion."

Justin just eyed her. "It's ridiculous that he's thirteen and taking naps," he said flatly.

She made an annoyed sound and shook her head, crossing her arms tighter. "One, Justin, he's taking a nap, because, again, someone gave him a fucking concussion and the doctor said to let him sleep as much as he wanted to over the next forty-eight hours. That that's what his brain needs right now. And, two, Justin, he has multiple sclerosis, mid-day fatigue is a thing. Go ask your wife. I'm sure she'll tell you. So, three, Justin, you don't want to see what Ethan looks like come late afternoon if he doesn't get his afternoon break. But, if you don't shut up and go back downstairs, you're going to get to see very soon."

He glared at her. "Where's Pop?" he demanded.

She let out a snort of disgust. "What? You going to go tattle that Eth's in his bedroom? He doesn't care, Justin."

"Where's Pop?" Justin pressed at her syllable by syllable.

She rubbed at her eyebrow. "He was going to go see if he could find a couple more fans and if he could pick up some chicken wings or drumettes."

Justin squinted at her. "What happened to sausage?"

Erin shrugged. "Ethan indicated he'd eat chicken tonight," she said flatly.

The reality was that Hank had tried to take them out for a bit of a mid-afternoon lunch. Would've been nice, but hadn't been that surprising that Don didn't have Lulu's open that day. Small family business and not exactly in a prime spot for people in parks or along the lakefront to be dropping in to make it worth staying open. Likely better for him to be spending it with his family doing a cookout of his own. Had his own grandkids to be treating and spoiling rather than other people's. But the failed side trip had got Ethan on wondering if his dad could smoke him a turkey leg instead. Wasn't exactly an option at that point in the day but Hank had proposed that he could potentially grill up some wings or drumsticks for dinner. Ethan had agreed that was an acceptable compromise, even if it wasn't a Lulu's drumstick and he wasn't getting his fries.

So Hank had set out on a mission. She got the sense that Hank had wanted a break from Justin too. That the outing to the park hadn't been enough time for whatever undisclosed conversation had happened between the two of them that morning. The most she'd gleaned from it was significant body language and tension and some minor interrogation disguised as conversation with Olive to reveal that Hank had done some babysitting for them that morning so they could look at some houses of some "associates" of Justin's but that they hadn't worked out and they'd likely be up a few more times over the summer trying to find something else. But there was clearly more to the story than that. Olive's body language said it but so did Hank's. He had one of those pissed-in coffee faces going on. So she hadn't been too surprised when they'd gotten back to the house and he'd barely spoken to Justin and had then had discretely told her he was going to see about dinner and fans and had gone out the backdoor without bidding adieu to his son.

"So now Dad just caters to whatever the fuck Ethan wants to eat?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, Justin, and maybe when you have a medically-advised specialized diet and are running way underweight, Dad will become your own personalized restaurant."

"You know what you should go ask Olive about. This fucking specialized diet shit for M.S. Because she says it's mostly bullshit."

Erin let out a deep breath and shrugged her shoulders. "You can pass that along to your dad. But somehow I think he might take the opinion of Ethan's pediatric neurologist – one of just a handful in this country specialized in childhood onset M.S. – and his assigned dietician than your not-yet-certified physical therapist wife. Or maybe he'll just go with our experiences of when Ethan is on the diet versus when he isn't. And based on the number of hospital visits we've had when we've deviated from the diet – I think I know where your dad is going to land in that equation."

Justin made a noise and shook his head. "So now we're just having … what? Grilled chicken? Not breaded? No sauce?"

Erin let out an annoyed laugh and looked at him, nudging by him again, though he still did his best to invade her space, to try to keep her down at that end of the hallway. But she wasn't scared of his towering presence. At all. She'd known him when he was a runt of a kid in his own accord. She'd seen he could never been that enforcer – not in hockey and not in football, no matter how much he'd bulked up in his teens. No matter what kind of chip he had on his shoulder or that bloated ego that had inflated his head. What kind of big shot or man he thought he now was that he was in the army and working toward Signal Corps and a career officer rank. Those titles weren't what made a big man. He was doing his best to keep proving that to them.

"Is that what this is about?" she asked, purposely bumping into him and pushing him aside as she went by. He seemed a little surprised at the amount she was able to rock him with even a simple, unobtrusive push with a pointed elbow positioned in the right place. Sometimes she thought he forgot that she'd gone through the Academy and had walked the beat and now did a job that involved tactical training. That she dealt with apprehending men bigger and stronger than her on a regular basis. That she knew how to throw the weight she had around and defend herself and put someone in their place. And if he couldn't remember that – than he should at least remember that she favored the boxing gym and kickboxing over taking a morning jog. She could stand her ground. "Fucking barbecue sauce?" Justin just glared. She thought it was more about her still being able to push him – her little brother – around than it was the laugh about the absurdity about him having his panties in a knot about the potentially changed dinner menu. "If you haven't noticed, Justin. Your dad is a pretty good cook. He'll season the chicken and he's gotten pretty good at making his own barbecue sauces. And there's hot sauce in the cupboard."

"It going to be as good of 'sauce' as the ribs?" Justin mocked.

She just shook her head at him. Again about the ribs. She was glad that Hank hadn't been there to see that. He'd specifically gotten the ribs for Justin and all he'd done was fucking complain about them.

"They had a dry rub on them, Justin," she said flatly. "And they were smoked. Hank's made them like that a few times. Ethan likes them that way. I like them. Jay likes them. But it's dully noted you didn't. If he makes them for you again, we'll make sure he puts fucking sauce on them so we don't have to listen to you whine about your ruined dinner for days after."

Justin glared. "Where's your boyfriend?" was all he provided in response.

She gazed at the floor, again shaking her head in annoyance, before she found his eyes and drilled into them. "He's my partner, Justin, and my fiancée. And we're all getting a little sick of you being … " she sighed. "Whatever about that. None of us treated Olive that way."

"Where is he?" Justin pressed at her.

She frowned at him and gave a little shrug. "He went over to his brother's to give him a lift here for dinner."

Will had taken the invitation with the caveat that he needed to be drinking if he was having to spend time around Voight and to lick his wounds that Natalie was entertaining Jeff too. Should be a fun evening … but at least Will wouldn't be digging some grave for himself over at Natalie's mother's place. Erin suspected it might've been more Natalie's mom than Natalie who'd invited Will. It was hard to tell.

The whole situation was screwed up. She thought Will would've been smart to pull out of that months ago. Well, she thought, he would've been smartest to never pursued her at all. What kind of man goes after the pregnant widow of a solider? Erin wasn't sure that was her definition of a righteous man – no matter what Will's intentions might've been. He didn't have enough of a track record for this to have worked out in any way but messy. And it'd gotten messy. In a way, she was glad that Natalie had seen that it was getting messy and put him in his place. Though, it sounded like Will had done his best to make that even more awkward by having some sort of work vendetta and tension with her.

Erin wasn't sure their attempts to be friends now were in anyone's best interests either since Will clearly wasn't over her. And now with already licking his wounds, he was going into some sort of jealous depression as Natalie showed some interest in Jeff Clarke. Erin's spidey sense said that was destined for disaster too. A guy who knew her husband? A guy with a checked past with his own wife? A guy now in his forties just starting his residency? It seemed like a ticking time bomb there too. And worse, it still seemed like Natalie's mom was taking sides. Seemed like she was on Will's side, which likely wouldn't bode well for Will in the long run.

It was just a mess. Not that she was a great one to be giving advice on when a guy should be running from messy family dynamics and potential disaster. She wouldn't be surprised if Will was asking Jay what the hell he was thinking and what the hell he was getting himself into. Telling him to run for the hills too.

But Jay wasn't the same kind of tuck tail and run as Will was. Though, it seemed like Will was trying to revise that second-nature of his. For better or worse. But it also seemed like it was going to mean Jay would be doing some babysitting while his brother cried in his beer over the coming months. Hopefully not the coming years. But this also had the telltale signs of the kind of fucked-up "relationship" that dragged on for years before they either got together or one of them really did move to either coast.

"Your boyfriend's brother is coming for dinner now?" Justin said with some disgust.

Erin rolled her eyes. "My fiancée's brother is coming for dinner," she corrected firmly. "Olive's aunt came over for a couple hours on Mother's Day. Hank's offered to drive her down to Henry's birthday."

"That's her aunt," Justin said. "My wife's aunt."

"And Will is my fiancée's brother," she stated firmly again. "And Will is all he's got. Just like her aunt is all she's got."

"What's that mean?" Justin spat.

"What do you think it means?" she pushed back.

"I think maybe I deserve a bit more than that if he's going to be invading on our family time and spending time near my son," Justin said.

Erin raised her eyebrow and drilled her eyes into him in anger. "I've never asked you for Olive's back-story. And I don't think it's you need to worry about Will being some sort of bad influence on Henry."

"What's that mean?" Justin demanded even louder.

"That you're acting ridiculous this weekend, Justin. It's your behavior that you should be worried about rubbing off on Henry right now. That's what all of us are worried about," she pressed.

Justin shook his head at her. "You can be such a bitch," he muttered.

Erin made a disgusted sound and prepared to lash back at him but before she could the door to Hank's room pulled open and Ethan teetered in the frame with anger boiling in his own eyes. Erin's eyes on him caused for Justin to glance over his shoulder.

"You shouldn't talk to her like that," Ethan spat at his brother. "She's our sister."

Justin made one of his whatever sounds and looked away but Ethan teetered forward and rammed into his brother. It wasn't much of a hit but it was enough to jar Justin slightly and he glared down at Ethan.

"Ethan-" Erin warned. She wanted him to stay out of it.

His eyes shot to her and then looked back to his brother who gave him a shove. "Don't fucking touching me, Ethan," Justin spat.

It wasn't much of a shove but on Ethan's tired and weakened legs it was enough for him to stumble backward and for him to hit against the opposite wall in the hallway and that was enough for Erin to step forward and without even thinking about it to slap Justin across the cheek. It was hard. The slap echoed and it stung her hand, sending tingles through it as she pulled her hand away. Both of her bothers gaping at her in shook. Justin holding his hand up to his reddened cheek as he did.

"Ethan, go downstairs," she ordered. Eth just continued to gape at her. "Go," she said more firmly.

"But—" he sputtered.

"Go," she raised her voice slightly and Ethan gave her a careful examination before shuffling by her and Justin and bracing himself as he took each step one at a time. She counted the staggers until she knew he was halfway down and then turned back to Justin's anger eyes and hung open mouth. "You're lucky I didn't punch you," she said. "You don't talk to him that way and you don't fucking push him, Justin."

"You hit me," he muttered at her.

She glared deadly back. "And you fucking deserved it. You deserved it thirteen years ago. You deserved it six years ago. You deserved it four years ago. You've deserved it every time we've seen you this past year and you really fucking deserve it this weekend, Justin."

His hand came down, clenching into a fist. "We took you in—" he started but she wasn't going to listen to it.

"Yea, Justin, your parents took me in. Not you. And it was sixteen years ago. Sixteen years I've been a part of this family and I've more than paid my dues to not be treated like the retarded second cousin by you. I've always treated you like my little brother. Ethan – he is my baby brother, whether you like it or not. And that relationship isn't going to change no matter what bullshit you put up. If anything, this show you put on about my helping around her, about Ethan's M.S., about me getting engaged – it's just pushing your brother farther away from you. And, you know, what? I told Hank when Ethan came home – when he was still thinking about sending him back to boarding school – that he was at a window here. A second-chance to have a real relationship with him before he got to the age where he was going to hate you and really push you away. And, I made a promise to your dad, if he wanted to try to fix that – fix that fucking chasm that occurred in our family because of you and you're fucking arrogance and ignorance and thinking you were above everyone and the law and had not fucking respect for yourself, your family or the well-being of anyone around you. I told him that I'd be here to help. So I'm here. And your dad has repaired that relationship with his youngest who's gone a whole lot fucking more in all of this than he ever should've. Your dad has fucking dove through that window before it disappeared. But you – Justin – you're fucking missing it. You're doing your best to make the window fly by fucking faster. And you're going to have your brother look back on his childhood and not remember you as his cool, big brother. You're going to be some pushy asshole. The guy who treated him like a jerk. And I know there's more to you than that. I know you're a good guy. That you were a nice, nice kid. So why not fucking show it to all of us again – before it's really too late. Before you really miss all of Ethan's childhood. Before he really hates you. And before you're both adults and he doesn't want to have a relationship with you."

He just stared at her. Just stood there. Finally lacking in something to say to her when he always had something to say to her. He never let her get the last word. Never. But maybe she'd finally made him shut up. For once.

So she'd take it. She turned and headed for the steps, giving him a small glance.

"Guess you're going to get to see what Ethan looks like when he doesn't get his afternoon rest," she said. "And it's going to sting a lot more than that slap."

And she went down the stairs. Because now she needed to get in front of this before either of her brothers decided to give Hank their rendition of events.


	124. A Bear in the Kitchen

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 123 - Bitch Slap.**

Hank looked away from watching his boy slowly pick at the scramble that he'd put in front of him while he sipped at his own coffee.

His phone was vibrating in his pocket again. Been pretty much never-ending that weekend. Should've known better than to make the switch with one of the other supervisors over that particular long weekend. Didn't want to be the on-call sector sergeant on the Independence Day. Especially when it landed on a long weekend. Fucking pain in the ass in Chicago.

Now he was going to have paperwork coming out of his ass all day. Lots of unnecessary calls as people got back into their Districts and behind their desks and worked on getting up to speed and getting back on-board with the usual bullshit.

Had thought trading out the weekend to free him up for getting down to Base for Henry's birthday made good sense. Made it a bit easier to justify taking some furlough closer to the end of summer too to help with his kid's move back to the city. Not that he should have to put up any justification about taking his days – but seemed like you always did too.

Reality was that he'd taken a lot of days that year anyway. Already. Still had half it to get through too. Had to hope that Magoo's health managed to level a bit. Had to fucking wonder though when you had one of your kids giving another one of your kids a fucking concussion. Didn't seem like a good omen for how much time they'd be spending in the hospital for the rest of 2016. Had already spent too much time running back and forth to Med as far as he was concerned.

Likely was just going to be a matter of time before he was running into problems with overage. Get the fucking commander breathing down his neck about how he did his job. How he split his time between the work – his city – and taking care of his family. His boy. Giving the Ivory Tower some bullshit excuse to bust his balls more than they already did.

Preferred just to be left alone. Do his job his way. Get it done. That's the way this whole fucking arrangement worked best.

And now - right now - he wasn't so sure doing the on-call switch had been the best move. Just proving to be a royal pain in the ass on multiple levels. Shitty start to the summer that was for sure.

Likely would've worked out fine enough if J had just stayed well enough away. Course the kid had to go and announce at the last minute that he was going to be showing up. Was part of J's repertoire at this point. Should've seen it coming. Supposed he'd sort of hoped that whatever they got up to on Base would seem a hell of a lot more appealing than coming home and rocking the apple cart. Apparently it hadn't, though.

Now he had them apples all over the fucking ground to clean up that week. Work, Eth's health, usual fucking family bullshit. Kids who couldn't get along even as grown-ups. Grown-up kids who couldn't see that one of them was littler than the other two. Pushing little ones off fucking playgrounds. Shoving each other around. Slapping each other in the face. It was just a fucking gong show. Fatherhood was just like pounding your head against a fucking wall sometimes.

Camille would've been so unimpressed this weekend. The lot of them. Hell, her looks likely would've managed the whole fucking situation better than him.

He was at a fucking loss what the hell he was supposed to say to Justin about any of this anymore. Felt like he was just yelling into the void. Didn't know what more he could say to the kid to get him to get it. Didn't know what more J needed to have in his life for him to understand. He was a father now – a husband, a solider – and he still couldn't seem to grasp what you did for your kids. Or the how and why he was trying to take care of E the way he did. He was starting to think it was just at the point that the rest of them were going to have to accept that J didn't get it. That he wasn't fucking going to get it. And it was the lot of them that were just going to have to move on.

Move on without fucking pushing and shoving and slapping at each other. Knew where Erin was coming from. Could see her reaching the end of her rope. Hell. He had for months. Had knew it was coming. When she didn't get the progress she had hoped for when she waved that white flag at Eth's birthday, Voight knew that either her or Halstead would lose their patience. And maybe they were fucking right to. Was unfair to them on a whole lot of levels. Frustrating.

Fuck. It was frustrating for him too. Sometimes it felt like J thought him giving him a grandson was enough of a mea culpa. Like it wiped him clean for all the previous bullshit. Everything the family had gone through on his behalf. Even like he'd somehow put some blinders on about how H even ended up in their family. Thinking and acting with his dick. Putting it the wrong places and bringing more bullshit into their family life – even if it'd brought Henry into their family life too.

Hank had had to really bite his tongue about that whole situation. Keep himself from lecturing his son. Letting himself trust Olive – and his own gut – and not telling Justin to go and get a fucking paternity test. Especially after that little stunt that Olive had let herself get pulled into with running off her mouth. Putting all of them in danger. Had to let down his own ego – his own fucking morals about right and wrong and how you did things when it came to the mother of your children and your children – and just try to gently nudge J to make an honest woman out of her. To give him his mother's ring. To let that go. To give it away to his son and to Olive – and to Henry. To encourage her moving to base. To encourage the marriage. To not say anything about the timing or the inconveniences or the way he would've preferred all that happen rather than the way it did. To just focus on the important thing in the whole equation – and that was the new little person – his grandson.

So he'd swallowed a whole lot of pride. Gone about the whole parenting thing a whole lot differently. And he'd just let it play out. And it had. Seemed to be working out well enough. As well as could be expected.

But even if he did have some pride that his son as making it work. That his son was a solider and a husband and a father – and that he'd get his education, that he'd be an officer. That he'd make a life and a career. That he was going to take care of his family. Hank also knew that he'd had to direct him that way. To push him and shove him – repeatedly. That he still was because his son was still sitting in front of him and telling tall tales and holding out his hand. Lying to his face and expecting to be given things that weren't his.

And that meant his pride only went so far. Justin hadn't grabbed a new life for himself. Hank had helped him make it. He still was. Maybe not as much as before – maybe his son was starting to grow up but he also wasn't. He might be making good but he wasn't there yet. And him parading his grandson home a handful of times a year wasn't enough to make him feel like all was well in their family. Even if he did bite his tongue.

Because he was so sick of the fighting. Camille would have none of it if she was there. The fucking tattling. The kids running to him like they were fucking six years old again to tell him who had done what to whom. Justin had called Erin a bitch. Ethan had pushed Justin. Justin had shoved Ethan. Erin had slapped Justin.

Just enough already. Fucking enough already. He'd told them as much. They didn't fucking push and push and punch and kick and slap each other in their house. They didn't send each other flying off of play structures. They didn't swear at each other and call each other names. Just get along. Work it out among themselves. Because he was so fucking tired of doing that for them – at this point in their lives.

He glanced up from replying to yet another one of these fucking 911 emails from fucking idiots with their heads up their asses.

J lurked in the doorway to the kitchen. Standing there long enough to attract his brother's attention too. E looking over at him.

"You two are up early," J stated flatly.

Voight shrugged and glanced back to finish keying the response into his phone. "First bells go at seven, twenty-five."

J gave a little nod and came closer to the table. Fucking loitering. There wasn't a place for him to sit.

Kept the little table in the kitchen just done up for two. Him and E. Used to mostly be him and Camille that sat in there but now it was his youngest who kept him company while he had his morning coffee. Or rather – was his spot to supervise that E put some food into his stomach before he kicked him out the door. Kept the dining room for the family meals. Not often that breakfast ranked as a family meal to warrant cluttering up the space with extra, empty chairs. Just fucking reminders of who and what was missing more than the whole fucking was.

But Voight stood, taking his coffee with him, gestured at the chair. "You want a coffee or some scramble?"

J shook his head but took the seat anyway.

Didn't much care. Could drink his coffee at the counter. Should work at tossing a few things into E's lunch anyway.

Hadn't seen the summer school cafeteria menu yet to go over with Eth what he could and couldn't be eating in there. Never was too much that worked anyway. And hadn't gotten to have a conversation with the summer staff yet either to make sure they weren't feeding his son shit that was going to be making him worse. So, kid would be getting a bagged lunch for now.

And he was giving Magoo a pass on making it himself given that bump on his head and the fact he looked like a fucking space cadet. Kid likely could use another day just getting some shut-eye in bed but didn't want him missing the first day of class. Wouldn't make this catch-up session much of a catch-up session if they started him out farther behind. Already was going to be behind with this fucking concussion.

"You walk over to Iggy's?" Justin put to Eth.

E looked up at him from working on tucking away some of the enforced breakfast. Didn't look like the question was entirely clicking with him but might just be that E didn't much feel like talking to his brother.

"Driving him," Voight provided from pulling the few leftover chicken legs out of the fridge.

"Ain't that far to be giving him a lift," Justin countered.

Voight gave him a warning look. All this bullshit of what he did different for E compared to how he'd done for him or for Erin. Was so sick of that too. Different kids, different times, different circumstances.

"First day. Need to talk to the admin office," he put bluntly and shifted his eyes to his younger boy, holding up the container. "You eat these like this? Or you want me to shred them and give you some lettuce? Wraps?"

"You're making him lunch too?" J said somewhat mockingly.

Hank just smacked at him. More of the bullshit. Not worth responding to. So he shifted his eyes back to E.

"Whole," his son said flatly.

Voight nodded. Made his life easier. Best to check, though. Worth the time to shred it if that meant he'd eat it. Because getting E to eat was always the goal.

"You coming back after you drop him off?" Justin asked, as Hank took the food over to the counter to repackage and redistribute.

He just grunted and shook his head. "Like to do roll call around seven-thirty. Already going to be running a bit late. Don't want to give the jokers an excuse to be dragging ass after a long weekend."

"Not planning on saying goodbye?" Justin put to him bluntly.

Voight looked up and smacked. "Bye."

J rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Doing that whole defiantly boy look again. Got that more out of his son in his twenties than he did out of his teenager.

"What about Olive and Henry?"

Hank just shrugged, as he took a bunch of grapes over to the sink to rinse off. "Figured they'd be up before we're headed out the door. Thought you'd be setting off early too."

"Yea, well, the fireworks kept Henry up kinda late last night. Meant we were up pretty late dealing with it too," he said.

Voight just grunted acknowledgement. Could say more. But wasn't worth it.

But wasn't just his son and Olive dealing with tears from a little boy when the fireworks started.

E had been real upset. And him getting real up set had only served to get him tremoring more than usual and then had his head hurting from the sound and the crying. Dealing with that and not being an ass about it to his sick kid had been enough, but the damn mutt had been terrified of the fucking popping too. Had started out as barking but when the boom-boom-boom and shrieks through the air had kept going for hours – by people lighting off the things illegally on nearby blocks, by all the different shows out on the lake and in downtown and over in Cicero echoed – the pup had just started whimpering. So he had a damn puppy crying who needed his attention too.

Normally wouldn't give a dog as much attention but didn't want the damn thing pissing all over his house and the damn mutt had just been shaking nearly as bad as Ethan when he'd tried to push him down the stairs to wait it out in the basement. Instead he'd ended up in Ethan's fucking bunk with his kid and the fucking mutt, waiting for them both to calm down.

Could hear Henry crying in the next room but hadn't given it much heed. Had his own hands full. Figured his son and daughter-in-law had a whole lot more recent experience managing a crying baby than him. Let them handle it. Seemed like H had fallen asleep before the kabooms were over anyway. Not late. Lot earlier than E, who'd sputtered over an edge and into a whole thing about summer and his mom and his health and his head and school. Clearly the kid was overtired and hurting and just a mess of anxiety. The floodgates just fucking opened of the kid worrying about everything and sending himself into a tizzy. Been so bad that E had started heaving. The heaving part he could deal with. But being the emotional support for when E got into shit like that – it wasn't his strong point. So it'd just all added to the less than ideal night before the start of summer school.

"When you planning on heading out?" Voight asked, though. Because as sure as he knew he could hear J and Olive dealing with H – he knew his son had heard him dealing with E. Knew he must've heard what some of the sputtering waterworks were about – but J hadn't ventured over to the room to try to offer any sort of brotherly advice and support. So there wasn't much point in responding about who was up late and who wasn't. Not really a conversation anyway. That was just parenthood.

Justin slouched back in the chair. "Don't know. Letting Olive and H sleep. Maybe around lunch."

Voight allowed an acknowledgement. Not sure how bright that was. Let the lil' nipper sleep too much and he was going to want to be up and running a million miles an hour for at least a couple hours before he was ready for a nap. The route he'd take as a parent was get him up now. Let him be tired and grumpy but burn off a bit of steam and run himself into the ground more – then lock him up in that car seat for hours on end and hope he'd at least sleep some of it. But it was only six-thirty. Supposed H might still be up. Seemed like he was in a routine where he was up by about six or six-thirty. Imagined that had a lot to do with him hearing J up and about in the house on Base heading off to PT. Though, seemed like he'd likely want a wet diaper change and some more food in his belly by this point. But again – another area he was staying out of. Not his kid. Not his parenting concern. Only worked so much when the kid's father was still your parenting concern. Sorta made things spill over. More than he'd like.

"Could swing by District," his son offered. "Grab something to eat before we hit the road. Erin didn't really say ciao last night neither."

Voight cast Justin a look. Didn't think his son had really done a hell of a lot to make Erin spend much time with him at all that weekend – let alone exchange pleasantries. Especially at the end of yesterday's visit.

Any 'goodbye' Erin had given him likely would've been more of a 'good riddance'. Couldn't say Voight entirely blamed her. Wasn't one of their shining moments as a family that weekend.

Not that they had a whole lot of shining moments since Camille was gone. But Hank always kept working at convincing himself that they were getting better. More functional. That after J got back up there with his grandson that they'd really take it to another level. Learn how to be a real family again. For H. For Eth too. For Erin and Halstead tying the knot. For any more grandkids they brought into the picture for their family. That they'd figure it out.

But sometimes shit like that weekend just blew that fucking delusion out of the water. J had done real good at antagonizing Halstead, which did a whole lot of nothing for his relationship with his sister. Hadn't done too good at working on improving his relationship with E too, when that's what Voight really wanted his son to get sorted out. Get some acceptance and forgiveness going on between the two of them. Didn't think a lot of that had happened over that weekend, though. J had just given E more reasons to be leery of him and had just demonstrated how far he'd shoved his head into the sand with this M.S. stuff.

Maybe Erin hadn't said goodbye. But thought she'd likely done good enough. Last time Voight had seen his girl in proximity with J had been out back. Halstead was walking his brother home to try to get the guy some fresh air to air him out a bit after the number of brews he'd put back. Hoped there wouldn't be no emergency with E at the school that day that needed them taking him into the ED, because sure as fuck wouldn't want Will Halstead to be the doctor assigned to him that day.

Erin, though, she'd been sitting on the porch swing. Holding her nephew. H had fallen asleep in her arms. E was cuddled right up against her too. Staring at the baby.

He got like that when someone was holding H and the kid had fallen asleep. Seemed real fascinated by it. Had a lot of commentary on how H was still so little but how he was so much bigger than when he was born. Kept telling him that's what happens.

Fuck, Hank felt that way when he looked at Eth too. Still remembered the little premature baby in his arms and in the incubator. Still saw that little baby in him now – at least still saw that little boy – even though he had a thirteen-year-old on his hands now. Wasn't that hardly four-pound infant that had scared the shit out of them those years ago. Still so fucking little, though.

They grow up but that little one is still there. Still saw it in J too. That bright pink screaming baby that refused to let him and Cami get more than forty-minutes sleep at a time for the first seven months of his life. Who'd then cried even more as he teethed. And still cried right through until he was almost two. Cried so much he'd make himself puke. Now he had an adult man – a man who was a husband and father – but still saw that little baby curled up his mom's chest in his mind's eye when he looked at him sometimes.

Just like he saw that pale, knobby-kneed little creature – with the greasy hair and the dirty face but those bright knowing but far too sad eyes – when he looked at his girl. Still saw that twelve-year-old who needed help getting out. Still felt that first time she'd wanted and accepted a hug – a real one, for comfort, not one where she felt she had to give it to get something. That scared little girl trying to be such a fucking bad ass.

They grow up. But they're still your little ones. It's a hard reality to reconcile.

Erin kept telling him that H looked like him. That was pissing J off. Made Hank feel bad for Henry too. Get the name and the looks? Poor kid.

Funny, though. How much kids change in that first year. So fucking quickly. Henry had come out looking so much like Olive. That faintly tinged orange hair and that pale complexion. The baby chubs. Could hardly tell there was any of Justin in there. But that had shifted and changed. Over the year. That auburn had settled into a brown and that newborn complexion of his had darkened too. Had more of Camille's – and the olive that Justin had inherited – settling into his skin. Still a pale little kid but you could see it. Going to have some of that Italian in him coming through. And the kid had J's eyes too, which Hank supposed meant that H had his eyes – because that's what Justin had come away with in that lottery.

Voight thought he saw more of Cami in his little man than Justin, though. But that was likely because he saw his wife in all three of his kids. As much as he saw them – he saw here too. Through and through.

Erin was always spouting at him about seeing him in her brothers – and now Henry. Especially with Ethan anymore. He didn't engage in those discussions either. He'd always seen Camille in E. So much of her. The hair, the eyes, the weird-ass interests that drove him. But he knew what Erin was saying. Eth's stature – his build – more his. Starting to see it in his face too. Just the bone structure. His sons had got stuck with his chin. Both of them.

Weird when you start seeing yourself more and more in your kids. A mirror you didn't really want.

E seemed to be drowsing too with his sister that night, though. Just hanging with Erin and nephew. The way Hank had hoped most of the weekend would go. But hadn't. But maybe at least it was sort of ending the way he'd hoped. Taking some quiet.

Was pretty much what they needed after the fucking weekend. None of them had really been talking that night. Just sitting there where it was cooler. Any conversations that needed to be had, Voight knew were ones that needed to be one-on-one with his kids. Didn't need some family powwow. Or maybe they fucking did. He didn't fucking know. But they'd never been much for fucking 'family meetings' bullshit. Didn't need those kinds of meetings when it came down to you don't give kids what they want. You give them what they need. It just was how parenting worked. Or the way that had worked best for him and Camille.

Maybe it didn't work as well after she was gone. Maybe it only worked so well when you didn't have the whole good cop, bad cop dynamic going on. Not that he really saw it that way either. Knew Camille could be just as much of a hard-ass as him. Hell, sometimes she could be worse. A royal pain in the ass as a mom. Old Eagle Eyes and ready to pounce without no hesitation. Not qualms about putting any of them in their place. But it was because she cared.

Having each other, though. Gave it all balance. Had someone to have your back when you were dealing with the fucking little hellions. Didn't have that anymore. They ganged up on him. Tried to pull the guilt card too much. Or tried the whole dad wrapped around their little finger thing too much. Those smiles. The eyes. Having built up a lifetime of knowing what buttons to push with him.

So he'd been happy to just sit too. Didn't need to be dealing with more shit that weekend than he'd already dealt with. Could already tell there was going to be more bullshit to deal with going forward anyway. Always was. Kids were good for that too. Sure didn't make your life any easier having them around.

Their time in the quiet, though, had come to an end when they could hear some families down the block getting set up for their own little illegal firework show. Could hear the hooting and hollering. The kids get excited. Could tell there were sprinklers already lit up by the way the conversation was going. And it'd been Olive who'd decided to scoop H out of Erin's arms and to try to get him down in the playpen before the real noise started.

Hank had taken that move as his own cue to try to shuffle E upstairs too, though, he'd put on a bit more of a show about it all. Taken a bit longer. But eventually it'd just been Erin and Justin left out on the deck.

Wasn't watching the clock. But it was a good while before Erin had come upstairs to say night to her brother and to let him know that her and Halstead were taking off. So the guy must've gotten his brother home OK and found his way back to the house too.

Figured the entire affair had given J and Erin lots of brother-sister time to have any kind of heart-to-heart they needed to. To try to sort out same of the tension and bullshit that was going on between the two of them. To let them work it out themselves. Because that'd always been the stance that him and Camille had taken with it. Let them fight it out. Let them work it out. Let them learn to lean on each other and love each other. Don't force it.

That had seemed to work for a lot of years. Maybe it'd been working less since J got out of lock-up. Erin had still been there for him but J had put up so many roadblocks in making it difficult for her to have much of a relationship with him. Too bad. She likely could've used him some points in the last few years too. A shoulder to lean on who got it. The family dynamic. What it was like to deal with him – at least at home him. Dad him.

Too many wedges these days, though. Egos and hurt and wounds and misunderstandings and misrepresentations. Was going to take a while to get it all settled. Had to hope – again – that being back in the same city, spending time with each other, having each other's back again in the same place – would help. Had to hope.

But for now his only hope was that they'd taken the opportunity to say something to each other. Get over that weekend's hurt. Smooth things enough so that there wouldn't be another show at H's birthday party.

Would like a whole lot if J made clear that Erin was invited to it – and that Halstead was welcome. But right now it didn't even sound like they'd said a proper goodbye to each other. Or at least not the kind that J wanted.

Not that Erin had ever been much for giving J what he wanted. "We'll help each other." That'd been her line to him since they were little kids – getting into shit and getting out of shit. Or trying too. The two of them. Little fuckers. Been easier then. Didn't seem like they had the same motto in their relationship anymore these days.

"Touch base with Erin," Voight put back to Justin. "But it's not a good day for that from my end."

"Pop, c'mon…," Justin sighed at him.

Voight just found his eyes and smacked, only for his phone to vibrate again and he picked it up to look at it, shaking his head as he replied. "Didn't plan my life around you being here this weekend, J. Getting slammed."

"Yea, right … work," J muttered.

Voight cast him eyes again – more warning, because he was real sick of that line too. And it was on the list of ones that he thought that his son should be dropping now that he should be at the point of understanding what it took to raise a family. How fucking hard it could be to balance work and family time. That sometimes the job had to win out – because in that moment it was more important or because you needed to keep putting food on the table. Couldn't be taking a break to get food and still be expecting to afford groceries all the time. That was just fucking life.

"Be seeing you again in a month for H's big day," Voight said.

Justin made another noise at that but shifted in his seat to examine Eth while Voight worked at dealing with this latest flash fire. Some of this shit just got old as you got old.

"Hey, E," J put to him, "been thinking that while you and Pop are down for Henry's birthday, we should drive into Nashville one day. Check out this aquarium restaurant."

E eyed him over his breakfast. "Like a seafood restaurant?" Ethan said flatly.

"Yea," J said with a bit more enthusiasm. "But way better. It's like a restaurant in an aquarium."

E squinted at him. "We've got an aquarium with restaurants in it here. Likely way better than anything near you because we actually live on water."

"E, c'mon," J said. "This is way different than Shedd."

"Shedd's also free," E interrupted, "because Dad and Erin and Jay are cops. We can go whenever we want. For free."

J glared at him. "This is a restaurant that's an aquarium. And not some overpriced snack bar in an aquarium."

Magoo shrugged. "Sounds lame."

Justin sat back in his chair and eyed him. "Thought you liked fish," he said.

"I like fishing," Ethan put bluntly. "That's different and these are like hostage fish. They're likely all tropical fish that they've like abducted and locked up in Kentucky or Tennessee or whatever."

"Are you fuckin' serious?" J stared at him.

E just kept his eyes locked on him – clearly serious. "Besides, we went to the Rainforest Café for Mother's Day and sat next to the aquarium and it was dumb too and the food was gross."

"Olive and H sure seemed to like it," J said.

E shrugged and put some scramble in his mouth – effectively ending that conversation.

Justin let out a sigh and crossed his arms and then gazed at him a bit more. "Well, what about paintball?"

E gave him a glance with a bit more curiosity but there was defiance to it. "Erin and J are taking me paintballing this summer. When my head's not broken anymore," he spat.

Justin sat forward, putting his elbows on the table, and ignoring the jab his brother had put out there. "OK, but not like this, E. There's this place near Base where it's zombie paintball. Nighttime. Get on trucks with mounted guns and go out and plow down zombies in the dark then do this like commando run through the forest shooting them out before having to navigate this like maze in a barn and then do a one-on-one firing squad at the end. Know a bunch of guys you've gone out. It's supposed to be pretty slick. Lickety-slip, Kiddo."

E eyed him more. "Can Jay and Erin come?"

Justin let out a huff and sat straighter. "Ethan, no. I'm trying to come up with something we could do together. You know?"

Hank glanced over at that. Beyond J taking Eth over to the playground – and then sending him flying – this was the closest he'd seen to his older son trying to connect with his brother that weekend. Might be a bit of a too little, too late scenario at that point, though. And the thing was that taking Ethan out on some sort of in-the-dark commando zombie adventure right now wasn't so bright. Might not ever be unless Justin wrapped his head around Eth's limitations more. Knew how to respect them and manage them. Until then, Voight wouldn't be signing off on E going on that kind of outing with his brother. Not without extra resources and support – the kind of supervision that Erin or Jay could provide.

"Well, it's something they'd like too," Ethan said. "So it'd be pretty rude to not invite them."

"It's not like they invited me to come paintballing," J put to him.

Ethan looked him square in the face. "We aren't going to do that on a weekend you're home because that'd be a dick move."

Hank looked back over again, catching his younger son's eyes. "Ethan," he warned with a firm edge. Been working real hard on reeling in his son's language. Meant that he'd been working real hard on reeling in all their language. But it seemed like every time J visited there was a fuckin' relapse in that too. More colorful words and vocabulary and phrases that just didn't belong in his youngest's mouth.

"Well, it would be," Magoo provided in defense and looked away from his father.

"Well, maybe they ain't coming to H's party," Justin put to E.

E shrugged at him and looked to his breakfast. "Then maybe I ain't either."

Justin flared his nostrils at that and watched his brother eat. "E, c'mon. I'm trying here. You don't want to do something while you're down at Base, maybe we can do something when I'm up over the summer. Be up a few times getting my family's housing sorted."

E cast him a look. "Like do what?"

J shrugged. "I don't know. A ball game?"

E shook his head. "I'm using my tickets to go with Dad."

"E, there's lots of other games. We'll go to one you don't have tickets for already," J argued. His annoyance and impatience was getting the better of him. Another dumb move, because Hank could tell even from where he was standing that E was putting him through a little test – and J was definitely failing.

"That costs lots and usually you don't like spending lots," Ethan said. "You don't even like spending money on a movie."

Justin sat back in the chair and stared at him. "Well, I'm willing to put out for a Cubs game, Eth. Whole lot more than some kiddie flick."

E squinted in a near glare. "Could come to one of my games. That's free."

"Ethan—" Justin sighed.

The kid shrugged and looked back to his breakfast. "Erin and Jay basically come to all my games. My practices too."

"Yea, well, rah, rah for them," J mumbled.

Hank came back over to the table at that and put his son's packed lunch in front of him. Ending this conversation before it turned into some sort of blow-up. Another one.

"You got your bag down here?" he asked Magoo.

"Office," E muttered, still glaring at his brother.

"Go get it," he ordered. "Want to make sure you got everything."

Ethan sighed at his mandated end to the game of chicken the two kids were playing and got up from the chair to go into the den and grab the backpack. Voight claimed the seat and looked across at his older boy.

"Pop, seriously, I'm trying and you see what he's like," he pressed at him.

Voight just grunted and looked back to the entrance as Ethan came back into the room, giving his kid a once-over as he handed him the bag.

"Want you to go back upstairs and change into those jeans we bought you last week," he said.

Magoo sighed annoyance at him. "Dad," he whined, "the only rules for summer are neat and no logos."

"Hmm," Voight grunted and grabbed at the waist band of his son's sagging shorts, jerking them up. "This don't look too neat to me."

"Dad," Magoo huffed and pulled away from his hand. "I hate when you do that."

"Then wear clothes that fit. Don't need to see your skives," he said. Ethan just looked at him with even more annoyance. "You're going to be cold," he provided more firmly. "Go change."

"Dad…," he whined.

"Go change," he ordered more firmly. Firmly enough that his son knew it was the end of the discussion – even though he let out a bigger groan and headed for the stairs and his bedroom. "If Olive and H are up when you're up there, you say goodbye," he called after him.

He looked back to Justin and let out another smack at the look on his boy's face. Decided to ignore it and instead took a sip out of his coffee, before starting to root around in E's backpack to make sure everything that was supposed to be in there was still in there.

"Pop," Justin tried again, "you can see I'm trying, right? He just gives me attitude."

Hank shrugged at him. "He's thirteen. He's gonna give you attitude."

"When I'm offering to do shit with him?" J countered.

Voight looked up at him. "Justin, what you're putting there in front of him this morning just sounds like a whole lot of empty promises. He's not stupid. He's done this dance with you before."

"Pop, c'mon. Paintball, zombies, fish, the Cubs. That's all shit he likes."

Voight shrugged. "Sure. Follow through and maybe he'll believe that any of those things will happen."

"Pop—" Justin huffed again.

"Or, you know, better yet, Justin, do something he wants to do that you don't. And just show up. That will tell him a lot more than all this buying his affection crap."

Justin sank back in his chair. "Like you and Erin don't buy his affection," he muttered.

Voight pressed his tongue into his cheek and examined him. "Justin, we do day-in, day-out with him. The 'fun stuff' we do with him. That ain't buying his affection. That's for our own sanity or else we'd just be glorified tutors and nursemaids."

Justin just shook his head and crossed his arms tighter over his chest.

"You got a lot of repair work with him, J," Hank smacked at him. "Not going to happen overnight. He didn't hit his head that hard this weekend. He remembers what happened. Not just this weekend. His birthday. Christmas. The past few years. You got a lot to make up for—"

"Like you didn't," Justin muttered under his breath.

Voight just shrugged. "Yea," he admitted. "I did. E had a whole lot of reasons to be real angry with me when he got home. And he gave me a real run for my money his first few months home, J. But we worked through it. Found some common ground. Rebuilt that relationship. Still are. Takes time."

"Sure seems like you and Erin are up on some pedestal with him these days," J said. "Can't compete."

"We're the ones who are here, Justin," Voight put to him firmly. "We're the center of his little universe because we are his glorified tutors and nursemaids. That's just the way it is. You put the work in, and he'll have you up on a pedestal too."

"Right, when he's got Halstead and Halstead Two and 'Mouse' and all these fuckin …" he trailed off shaking his head.

"You haven't been around, Justin," Voight put to him. "To have relationships – you got to show up. Blood ain't enough. It don't make family."

Voight stood from the table and walked around it, giving his son's a shoulder a squeeze before heading over to the breezeway to check to see if the damn mutt was done his morning shit and sniff around the yard.

"Keep working at it," he said, as he went. "And, you really want to work at it – do some things you don't really want to. Like getting on the horn to your sister and making sure that she knows she's invited to Henry's party and that she's welcome to bring her Plus-One along for the ride."

And he just left it at that. Didn't want to rehash any of it anymore – so he stepped out the door. Dealing with a dog named Bear was better than dealing with the bear he had in his wife's kitchen that morning.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Just letting you know that I'm not sure how many updates I'm going to get done between now and the premiere of S4. Likely not many. I don't know where the hiatus went. I know I'd promised some chapters around Justin's death. I am likely going to try for one more set in that timeframe but won't likely go beyond that before the premiere. I'm also deciding on if I want to end Scenes and start another collection of scenes for in S4 stuff depending on how the series cannon shifts with his death. We'll see. So basically — you'll almost certainly get one more chapter before the premiere but outside of that, not too sure. Still planning on doing some chapters around the cabin. Just haven't had the time.**

 **Your readership, feedback and reviews are always appreciated.**


	125. Best Laid Plans

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **MAJOR WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS A START OF A STORY ARC THAT I'M NOT ENTIRELY SURE WHEN I'LL DO THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS THAT ACCOMPANY IT. BE WARNED. YOU AREN'T GOING TO GET IMMEDIATE RATIFICATION AND RESOLUTION.**

 **I haven't decided where exactly this will be set. It will either end up before Ethan's birthday or after the chapter called Invitation.**

"Hmm," she heard Jay say at the counter behind her and glanced back over her shoulder from putting the OJ and eggs in the fridge. "Bananas and condoms," he put to her directly as he pulled the items out of grocery bag and placed them on the counter. He cocked an eyebrow at her. "We being tasked with another super awkward moment with Eth?"

She rolled her eyes slightly and moved back to the counter, unsweetened coconut milk and Irish steel cut oats that were designated for when Ethan stayed overnight but that Jay would likely go through before that happened. "You hadn't restocked the nightstand," she muttered at him and took the items over to the cupboard.

She could feel his eyes settling on her back when she said it and she inwardly sighed. Suddenly taking her sweet-ass time to set the two items in the cupboard seemed like a better option than turning back around to see the look he was giving her – that she could feel. But she did – and there it was. That processing. That questioning. That insecurity. That mistrust – clearly directed at her.

"That look says a whole lot about what you think of me," she put to him bluntly and crossed her arms.

His brow creased as he frowned. It was that surprised, confused and clearly disappointed in her look. Slightly heartbroken. She'd seen in the night he'd arrived to find Landon in her apartment and her holding an icepack to his head. She'd seen it again when he'd told her he'd forgiven her for the choices she made during her sabbatical – the one that wasn't just from the job but her slide from the life she'd established for herself and the relationship-non-relationship that she was in denial that her and Jay were in but that he wasn't. The one that said he was putting all that behind him. That he'd move on and forget it'd happened – how she'd betrayed him and hurt him. But that it was something he wouldn't forgive more than that once. That he wouldn't go through it again and again – because he'd watched his mother go through that. Because he'd experienced the snapback of that heartbreak and disappointment and pain in his own way over and over again at that hands of his father in his own way too. That he wouldn't let her do that too him.

Yet she thought it likely hurt her just as much to know that he thought she could do that too him. That she'd do that to their partnership. Their friendship. Their relationship. Their engagement. Their pending marriage. A future family. But maybe she deserved that. She had hurt him before. Betrayed them. But that was then and this was now. And she didn't think she deserved it in that moment. She didn't want to stand there under that gaze. That quiet accusation of misplaced trust.

He made a face at her. This look that tried to say that look he'd been giving her was no big deal – but it was. "I just didn't know I was supposed to be keeping that drawer stocked anymore," he said.

"Well, I don't remember us having a conversation about it not being stocked anymore," she shrugged at him. Like that was somehow what this was really about. Who should be paying for and supplying the condoms. Like she wasn't a big girl and perfectly capable of picking them up on her own to have in her own bedroom. Like it was all on him. Like she'd trust a guy to manage that on his own.

He crossed his own arms – gripping at his one shoulder almost like he was trying to protect himself on some level, but he really was only showing off the bulge in his one bicep. And that's where her eyes landed instead of that hurt, insecure little boy gaze he had set on her.

"This is the first time you've said anything about it being … a problem," he said.

She shrugged at him again. "It's a problem," she put flatly. "We should be using them."

"But …," he seemed genuinely confused, which she wasn't sure she understood or had patience for. She wasn't going to have some ridiculous "it feels better without" conversation. "… we're monogamous. We're engaged. We got tested. We're clean."

She almost wanted to spit at him about the getting tested bit. The "we're" part. Because there wasn't a "we're" to it. He'd wanted it. He'd pushed for it. He'd agreed to do it to as if it was something she felt necessary too. But it had been another thing that clearly said what he thought about her. But she'd just gone with it. She'd had the testing before. So had he. It wasn't a big deal. It would shut him up. And they'd be able to move on. So they'd done it.

"And we're not trying to get pregnant," was all she pressed at him firmly, though – avoiding getting into an argument about something that was already said and done and hadn't hurt anyone or anything – beyond her feelings. But maybe he was right to think she was some sort of diseased junkie whore. Maybe he'd picked up on enough of her past and the life she'd had to feel that way. Maybe he'd seen enough of the people she was hanging around with and the choices she was making during her sabbatical to cast that aspersion at her.

"You're on the pill," he put to her blankly. He still looked so hurt and confused. Like she'd just dropped some sort of aplomb on him that he wasn't sure how to deal with – at all.

She sighed hard and ran her hand through her hair. She wanted to cool the tension between them. To take this down a notch – or several. Because he hadn't been meant to be there and to help empty the grocery bags. He wasn't supposed to see the condoms right then. They weren't supposed to be having this conversation right now. And not this way. She hadn't even decided how they were going to talk about this or how she was going to broach it. Or what she would've said to him when she cracked out the new box of condoms the next time they were getting hot-and-heavy in the bedroom – which likely would've been that night anyways. But at least then she would've had a few more hours to figure out the way she was going to approach this.

"We've just …" she tried to organized her thoughts. "My schedule has just been so all over the place lately," she managed. "Ethan in the hospital. Sleeping over at Hank's place. Your place. Here," she gestured frustratedly.

It'd been a pinball machine. She never knew where she was going to be one day to the next. She didn't carry a fucking purse with her to have her pills stashed on her any given second and she wasn't about to start having a pack at her place, work, Hank's and Jay's. She'd get even more fucking confused then about if she'd remembered to take the fucking thing. And, yes, she should've scheduled an appointment months ago to go talk about different options. An IUD or the NuvaRing or the patch or the fucking implant. Something she didn't have to remember daily – manage daily. But when did she even have time to go in for an appointment to talk about those options right now? She clearly barely had time to even pop a fucking pill each day.

But she should've made it a priority. To get into the doctor. To have her shit in order. To manage this. Because it was her responsibility. Her body. Her life. And she just … fucking hadn't. And it sure hadn't stopped her from fucking. Her and Jay had gone from a one-time thing to more like his proposed one-time a week thing. And likely more like his preferred one-time a day thing on the days they could manage that. And even on days they likely shouldn't. They'd fucked at Hank's house more than she wanted to admit. More than she'd ever want Hank to know. Though he likely already did. Which was horrifying in its own way. That likely should've been birth control enough. But apparently that hadn't stopped her or slowed her down either.

"I just … probably haven't been as good or as consistent about taking them every day at the same time as I should be lately. So … I just want some extra protection for the next while," she said. "Until things calm down. Until things are more … routine again."

He just kept staring at her. She could almost feel the gears in his head processing that. Trying to read into it – and trying to make himself not read into it too. But Jay was never very good at that. Everything that came out of anyone's mouth had to be analyzed.

So she sighed again and gazed at the floor, wrapping her arms around herself a bit. Because this also wasn't a piece of the conversation she'd intended to have that day – at all. It was one she had hoped they wouldn't have to have at all. She forced herself to bring her eyes up to him and ran her hand through her hair again to brush it away from her face. So she could actually see him. So he could actually she her. So she wasn't hiding from this. From him.

"I missed a period, Jay," she said flatly.

His eyes flickered – like the gears clicked into place but now were almost stuck. His mouth opened like he was trying to find words – but couldn't. Her guy who always had some smart-ass or witty comment wasn't sure what to say. And the only sounds that he got out were, "Wha … wha … what do you mean, you missed a period?"

She sighed louder and looked at the ceiling. This might be worse than having some sort of awkwardly uncomfortable conversation with Eth about the birds and the bees – and pregnancy.

"It might be nothing," she provided – to the kitchen ceiling but then found his gaping eyes again. "My periods have always been really light on the pill. Sometimes I skip one. And I've been under stress and I've lost a bit of weight with all the crap with Ethan. There's lots of reasons I might've missed it."

"But you might be pregnant?" he put to her more firmly.

She shrugged. "I doubt it. There's like … a less than two percent chance. It's basically impossible."

Which was a lie. Because she knew there'd been a few days she'd outright missed her pill. And there'd been other days that she didn't realize she'd forgotten to take it until hours and hours after she should've. And other days she stood there trying to remember if she'd taken it or not at one of the six billion other places she seemed to live out of anymore in her re-found transient lifestyle. That meant there was likely a whole lot greater chance than the less than one percent chance that existed if she had her shit in order. And a whole lot greater chance than the random two percent chance she'd just made up to try to make it seem like it was OK that she'd managed to deal with properly using contraceptives since she was Ethan's age and take the pill every day for more than half her life – but then dropped the fucking ball the first time she managed to get in a real, long-term, committed relationship where she was having regular loving sex. A situation that should've made all this easier. A situation where something like this should've been manageable and planned and discussed. Not all fucked up because she'd fucked up. Again.

"Two percent is not statistically impossible," Jay muttered, his fingers coming up to rubbed at his forehead just under his hairline. He didn't seem to be taking this particularly well. He wasn't freaking out – but for Jay, she'd say this was pretty close to freaking out. "Did you take a pregnancy test yet?"

"No," she said.

"Exactly how late are you?" he asked. He was suddenly straddling a stool at the counter. Apparently he needed to sit down.

"I don't think it's technically called being 'late' when you're on the pill," she tried to deke the topic. "It's more like … you miss a period. And it's likely nothing."

"Erin," he spat at her.

She sighed. "A couple weeks," she managed. "A little more. But WebMD says…"

"WedMD," Jay gaped at her. "Are you fucking kidding me? Have you talked to a doctor yet? Gone to a clinic?" She just stared at him and rubbed at his face and then gazed at her even more. "Exactly when were you planning on telling me this?"

She leaned against the counter more and felt almost like an admonished teenager as she allowed another barely noticeable slope of her shoulders. "I just didn't see the point in us both being stressed out about something that's likely nothing," she said quietly.

He pressed his fingers into the center of his forehead like he had a migraine headache. "We might be pregnant and you didn't want to stress me out about 'something that's likely nothing'," he muttered and then moved his hand to glare at her. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Jay …" she sighed. He pushed himself up off the stool and started to move to the door. "Jay," she called more urgently. Panic and fear tightening in her chest – that he was leaving. He was leaving her in something like this. And that said exactly how he felt about her too. "C'mon … don't go."

He stopped and spun on his heel to look at her. "I'm going to get a fucking pregnancy test and we're going to take it."

"It doesn't work when you're on the pill," she blurted out. She didn't even know if it was true – but it was the first thing she could think of. So she'd said it. Spat it out so quickly.

He gazed at her. "You're still taking the pill? NOW?" he demanded. He sounded genuinely horrified. "That can't be good for the baby."

The baby. It pressed even further into her. Drilling into her chest. Her heart. Screaming at her. She hadn't let herself think about it in those terms yet. She hadn't wanted to. She tried to get something out. To provide some sort of argument. To say it was fine – even when she didn't know if it was. It would be another lie. But she'd already been dropping half-truths. Why stop now?

But he had his phone pulled out and was staring at the screen. His thumbs keying into it in rapid-fire speed. His eyes scanning.

"WebMD," he said drily, casting her a little look, "says that pregnancy tests still work when you're on the pill. Should be accurate as long as it's at least sixteen days after conception. Is it?"

"I don't know," she sputtered. "We're basically having sex … always."

He gave her an unimpressed look. "Are you more than sixteen days late?" he put to her flatly. "You said about two weeks?"

She stared at him – taking deep breaths. Big ones. It felt like a brick was on her chest now. "I don't want to take the test yet, Jay," she felt herself near whisper.

"Erin," he sighed at her.

She shook her head hard. "Then it's real," she said. "Whether it's positive or negative – it's real. And … I just can't. I can't until I know what I want to do."

"What do you mean until you know what you want to do?" he stared at her again.

"Jay," she said but felt her voice crack and looked away. "This isn't the plan … I just …" she looked back to him with apologetic eyes.

He shook his head hard and suddenly was closing the gap between them, his hands landing on her shoulders. "Erin, no, no, no," he said with his own mild panic but this reassurance. "Either way. Either way – this will be totally fine."

"Jay, it's not totally fine," she put to him quietly but she felt her voice struggling to get out. The tightness wasn't loosening its grip. "It's my life. My career. I told you. I didn't … I don't … want kids until I've put in at least ten years on the job. Thirty-two. Not until I'm thirty-two. At least."

He gripped at her biceps and searched for her eyes. "OK," he put more gently. "I'm hearing you. But I think we need to get you tested so we know exactly what we're dealing with before we have that conversation."

She shook her head again. She wasn't even sure what she was shaking her head about. The test. The conversation. The whole situation. Her own decision. Her fuck up. Her anger at herself. Her annoyance that her life just never went as planned. That this had happened. And it wasn't supposed to be happening. Not now. Because she was trying so hard to do things right. To do right by so many people. To do right for herself. And she'd fucked it all up again.

And she felt herself shaking with it. But Jay's arms wrapped around her and pulled her against him. They were strong. They held her tight. His cheek rubbing against the top of her head repeatedly and settling there while he held her.

"You've got to include me in this, Erin," he said so quietly. "It's my baby too."

His baby. Her baby. Their baby.

She wasn't ready for a baby.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. How the fuck did she let it get to this?

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Several chapters were added over the weekend. Six in total. They've been reordered. But I think a lot of people missed the chapters entitled Nice Thoughts and Leftovers. You might want to check them out if you missed them.**

 **I'm likely going to work on some chapters around the lead up to Ethan's birthday and his actually birthday over the next bit. I'm taking votes on if Justin/Olive/Henry should be there or not.**

 **I also might go back and work on some scenes from earlier in the story that I haven't gotten to.**

 **Reviews and feedback are always appreciated.**


	126. Options

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 90 - Best Laid Plans.**

Jay stood staring at the boxes upon boxes of pregnancy tests lining the shelves. This was just too many fucking options. He didn't know what to fucking get. He knew he was a function over form kinda guy but he sorta thought maybe this was the sorta thing you were supposed to spend more on?

Like did the one that gave you results "six days sooner" work better than the one that was "five days sooner"? And what about if it gave you the results in one minute versus three? And was the store brand really any worse than this one in the fancy box with like the easier to pee on stick? Maybe Erin would want an easier to pee on stick? Though, really how hard could it be to pee on a stick – like after you got your flow going? And, Erin wasn't the kind of girl to get all eew-icky about some pee on her fingers. Like, really, is anyone that grossed out by that? They'd managed to get pregnant – so they'd dealt with bodily fluids already. And if they were pregnant – they sure as hell were going to be dealing with a whole lot more of their own and another human being's for years to come. So maybe some pee on the hands really shouldn't be that big of deal. So if they were advertising some sort of easier to pee on stick – maybe there was some sort of reason or technique to all this he was unaware of but should be?

Jay glanced to his side as some woman started loitering in the aisle. It was the second time she'd circled around. She was likely waiting for him to make his selection and leave so she could examine the merchandise herself without a spectator. But he wasn't ready to pick yet. He just kept staring at all the products. Picking up a box and reading it and putting it back down and reading the next one. Even though they all said basically the same thing and were all basically the same price within a few dollars.

It likely didn't even matter which one he got. He wasn't even sure Erin was going to take it. Hell, he wasn't even sure she'd still be at the condo when he got back. He definitely could feel her entering into flight mode. It'd sort of seemed like it was going to be fight – specifically with him. But she'd calmed. The thing was when she'd calmed, she'd pretty much shutdown. And when she got that kind of look in her eyes it scared the shit out of him too. Because he'd seen it in her before – a few times now. And he saw where it lead. And he didn't like it. That couldn't be where they were headed. He couldn't let her fall into that hole. Fuck. He'd likely been the one who pushed her there.

This was so fucking his fault. He'd known they were out of condoms – at least at her place. And the only thing he'd said about it – that first night when he'd realized – was, "We don't have condoms." She hadn't said anything. She'd just kept kissing him. Touching him. So he'd taken that as a, "It's all good." It wasn't like it had been the first time they'd fucked without him having it wrapped. He was pretty sure each time they did it at Voight's they hadn't. More clean up, less potential evidence being spotted by Voight or Eth. But it'd been that time without them in the drawer that had just started the whole … just not using them. Because they'd fucked. And she hadn't said anything. Not to stop them. Not during. Not after. Not the next time when he still hadn't bothered to go and get any. And then he'd stopped mentioning it – because he thought they were just … going bareback.

And he liked that. He liked the intimacy of it. He liked knowing she trusted him. He liked trusting her. And, it didn't matter what anyone fucking said – it did feel better. Just knowing you were skin-to-skin counted for a whole fucking lot. And he was pretty convinced he could feel more – how fucking wet she got, knowing she was that turned out and he was doing that to her – than he ever did with a condom.

But he'd been stupid. He'd been so fucking stupid. He knew they weren't ready for a kid yet. She was right. It wasn't in the plan right now. The plan later – but not the plan right then. They had enough shit on their plate. And he should've known – should've seen – that they were all fucking over the place. He shouldn't have let the whole contraceptive thing fall into her lap. Not take any responsibility for it on his own. Especially when he knew it was the pill. That she needed to be doing the daily thing. That he'd heard you needed to take it same time each day. Fuck. Erin was never sleeping in the same bed back-to-back anymore. Never in the same bathroom. Half the time she didn't even have her wallet with her. She just had a fucking wad of bills in her pocket and her star strapped to her hip. That was about all she managed to carry with her from place to place. How did he fucking expect her to keep up with keeping them on track with the birth control thing?

He should've known. He should've seen it. But he had his head stuck up his ass. He'd been thinking with his wrong fucking head. And now he'd gotten them into a situation they weren't supposed to be in right now.

He kept trying to figure out when it could've happened. How the timing of all this worked. Like drawing back to his high school health classes and comparing it against the little charts and diagrams of a women's cycle on the back of these boxes. It just seemed way too fucking complicated.

They hadn't been having that much sex. Not always like Erin said. Fuck. Last week they hadn't fucked at all. She hadn't been interested. But maybe now he knew why. But them going a week without sex wasn't abnormal. Not with the schedules they were keeping. And he knew it didn't even matter. They'd only needed to do it once to be in this situation. And they'd definitely done it more than once.

He could feel his heart pounding in his ears. It was funny. He'd been in a lot of adrenaline pounding situations. He'd been under fire before – in more than one way. But this – this – was really getting the blood pressure to rise.

He wouldn't say he was scared. He didn't think. He wasn't a fucking kid. He was a man. He could handle this. They both could. They were adults. They could handle a baby. They could raise a baby. They could figure it out. It might not be planned or perfected or what they'd expected or imagined right then – but they could do it. They'd been talking about. It wasn't that far out in left field.

The thing was, he didn't think Erin wanted to. And he heard her. He knew what she was saying. Her career. They'd talked about all that. Her career. His career. Goals. Objectives. Wants. Needs. How to get all that to fit together. How to achieve it. And then how the fuck that was going to apply to their relationship and their marriage and needing to give Voight a fucking answer. He knew where Erin stood on these things. He knew how important making a difference in the city and finding a little bit of justice was for her.

And he'd heard all her fears about being a parent – being a mother too. He got it. He really did. It wasn't like he'd had a super stellar example of what a father was growing up. It wasn't like he had a relationship with his father. He worried about that too. Worried he'd fuck up the kid. Or worried more than he'd let that kid down. He'd hurt him. So he knew where Erin was coming from. But they both knew they weren't their parents. She wasn't Bunny. He wasn't his dad. And even though those genes were there – they weren't those people. They were better than them. They'd do better than them. They'd both committed to that. To each other. He knew they'd commit that – make that promise – to any baby too.

But what if Erin didn't want to?

It made his heart pound harder in his ears. It wasn't like he was anti-choice. It wasn't like he didn't think abortion was an option. It was just when he thought about all of that, he didn't think about it in terms of his baby. He didn't think about it in terms of Erin carrying his baby. And when it was his baby. When it was Erin. When he was in his 30s. When he had a job. When he was in love and engaged. Who the fuck cared that the timing was a little off? That this wasn't planned according to their pie-in-the-sky schedule? Who the fuck cared? It was theirs. They could do this.

Abortion wasn't a realistic option. Was it? He didn't think so. He hoped not. He wasn't even a practicing Catholic anymore. Fuck. There were so many things he hated about the Church. It'd left so many of its own scars and its own bits of self-loathing and hatred. But when you've lost someone to cancer. When you're engaged to this woman – your best fucking friend, who you loved in a way that you didn't think was even fucking possible because you so fucking mistrusted so much of humanity. When she could potentially be carrying your child? How could you be anything but pro-life? In that moment how could he think there was some other option but that? How could Erin?

Even if he heard her. He was hearing her. But he was having so much trouble hearing it. Especially with all this blood pounding in his ears. How was he supposed to hear anything? Or even think straight?

He let out a slow breath and picked up another box. It was a two pack. Maybe that made more sense. For if she got like a false-negative or a false-positive? She'd want to take it more than once, right? Either way? Or maybe if she peed on the stick wrong, she'd just need to take it twice. Maybe he should get a three pack. Or a five.

Fuck. He likely wasn't going to be even able to talk her into taking it. Not that night. She seemed so set against it. That she wasn't ready to think about it or deal with it. Wasn't ready for it to be real either way. To enter this other – new – realm of their relationship. This totally new dynamic. It wasn't ever going to just be baby talk or family planning talk or hopes or dreams anymore. It'd smacked them in the face. This was reality. This was going to be part of what life and marriage and building a family looked like. Dealing with the fucking unexpected. Accepting – yet again – that life just didn't go as planned. And seeing if, and how, they coped with that as a couple.

Maybe he wasn't ready to deal with all of that either. To think about it. But he was. If he hadn't been, he never would've put the ring on her finger. Because he'd rather deal with any of this shit with her than without her. He wouldn't want to go through this alone. And he wasn't going to let her go through it alone either.

She was going to pee on the damn stick so they could figure out what they were dealing with here. So they could start dealing with it.

Still, he put the box down again and picked up another. A fancy box. A pricier box. A three pack. He gazed at it. Did fancier and pricier mean the results would be more accurate when she was on the pill? When they didn't know when she'd ovulated? Or when they'd conceived? Or even when he didn't have a straight answer on exactly how late she was?

Jay scrubbed at his face and pulled out his phone. His thumb hovered for a long moment. He hesitated but then he let out a slow breath and put it to his ear as it rang. He thought it was going to go to voicemail. That Will was on-shift or at Natalie's with the baby or he just didn't feel like talking. But then he picked up and offered a bland greeting.

Jay let out another little noise because he didn't know what to say. What to keep private. What to give away. How to vocalize this. How to protect himself. And Erin. How to not be alone. How to let down some walls. How to ask for some help –however minor. But maybe he needed to learn to do all that – STAT – if he was going to be a father.

"So I need a medical opinion," he said. "But I really just need you to be my older brother. For once."

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: The chapter before this — Mean Girl — was added earlier tonight. Please make sure to check and make sure you don't miss it. Reviews and feedback are always appreciated.**

 **I'm thinking about doing a Olive/Justin scene set post-MOther's Day weekend trip. Still undecided on if Olive/Justin/Henry will show at Ethan's birthday.**


	127. Planned Parenthood

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 109 - Options.**

Erin sat with her arms crossed in the chair and cast Jay a look – an angry one. He shook his head at her.

"Stop looking at me like that," he said.

He was getting really sick of the looks she was giving him there. It was making him feel like college boyfriend who'd knocked up his one-night stand and was now forcing the girl to do something she didn't want to do. And that was about the farthest you could get from the truth.

She cocked her eyebrow at him. "They're judging us," she put flatly.

He let out an annoyed sigh and looked at the ceiling. There were posters on the ceiling. Apparently some women wanted shit to focus on while they laid with their legs in stirrups and doctors and nurses got all up in their lady parts. But Jay was feeling pretty thankful to have them to look at too. The posters on the ceiling were among the few in the room that weren't about fetuses and babies and adoption and pre-natal care and STDs and just about anything else that could happen to your reproductive and sexual health if you weren't careful. It wasn't exactly the kind of doctor's office you wanted to be sitting in in your 30s on a decent salary with health benefits. But it was where Erin had wanted to come.

"You wanted to come here," he muttered.

It wasn't where he wanted to come. He wanted to go to Med. He wanted them to get sent up to the OB-GYN there. He wanted to set themselves up to get some real care and have real options put in front of them – by people they trusted. Professionals in a hospital that they knew held some of the best services in the city. But Erin was already pissed off at him for calling his brother. For asking his older brother on advice on how to deal with any of this. As his older brother and as a doctor.

Will had made him feel a bit like a fool. Like it was somehow shocking that he'd reached his 30s and hadn't previously ever had to deal with a pregnancy scare in a girlfriend or a trip to the abortion clinic. Jay wasn't sure what he felt about the implications that Will obviously had. Or that his brother felt that was some sort of normative part of manhood. Though, Jay had been in the military long enough to know it wasn't exactly abnormal. It just wasn't him. He didn't sleep around and the women he did sleep with he used fucking condoms.

He was supposed to be allowed to go bare back with his fiancée. He'd liked it. He hadn't worried about it. Because she was on the pill. They were exclusive. They were clean. They were engaged. This was supposed to be a normal progression of a relationship.

But apparently he was stupider about relationships and contraceptive and menstrual cycles and ovulation and all of that than he thought. And Will had done more to make him feel like a bit of a dunce before he'd given him much brotherly or doctorly advice on if the home pregnancy test would work when she was on the pill or if she could even be pregnant when on the pill or how many times she would've had to miss it for him to have ended up getting her pregnant.

Not that any of it really mattered. The reality was if she was pregnant – she was pregnant and he was the one who'd knocked her up. It was his responsibility.

And within his responsibility – he wanted to get her and the baby the best possible care. And in his opinion that wasn't at some fucking inner city Planned Parenthood office. But Erin hadn't really cared about his opinion in that area either. Just like it seemed she didn't much care about his opinion on any of this. And it was fucking tearing him apart.

This was big and she wasn't including him. This was their life and she was treating him like he wasn't a part of it. He wasn't a factor.

She gave him a sterner look. "Where the hell were we going to go?" she put to him. "Med? Talk to your brother or Natalie? You telling your brother is bad enough. I'm not going to have this discussion with Natalie. She's so fucking judgmental. It's painted all over her face. Even when we have Ethan in there. Like we can't manage his care. This? That we don't know how to use fucking condoms and the pill?" She shook her head hard.

Jay gave her an even more annoyed look. "You could've scheduled something with your GP or OB," he put flatly.

"Right," she said. "My CPD sanctioned doctors that I never go to and suddenly am billing for."

"It's confidential," he said.

"Nothing is confidential," she put back to him firmly.

"Except Planned Parenthood, apparently," he muttered.

He was beyond slightly unimpressed that this was Erin's doctor's stop of choice. It felt more like this was her setting them up to have the abortion discussion that he didn't want to have than it was for them to get a blood test since apparently neither of them new how to pee on a stick. Or at least knew how to pee on a stick in a way that was getting results that consistently told them positive or negative.

The whole thing was a gong show. All of this. And he'd gotten them into this.

It felt like his fault.

And a baby shouldn't feel like something you were at fault for. That wasn't how you were supposed to start your family. That shouldn't be the foundation of it.

"Maybe they should be looking at us all judgmental. We aren't fucking fifteen about apparently neither of us knows how to effectively use condoms or birth control. Because April, Erin?" he pressed at her. He was so fucking mad at her leaking that little detail to the nurse who'd come in to take all their information. "You said you missed _a_ period. It's fucking July."

She glared at him. "You're the one who stopped buying condoms in April," she said.

He shook his head and worked at trying to drill a hole into the wall ahead of him with his eyes. "I wasn't the only one who stopped buying condoms," he said. "It's not just my responsibility."

She gave him a firmer glare. "You're the one with the dick that they go on," she said bluntly.

"And you're the one with the ovaries and eggs you didn't want to get fertilized," he spat.

"You aren't ready for a baby either," she muttered and went back to staring angrily at the posters of fetuses on the walls.

"Yea," he said. "And I likely would've been using a condom, if I'd known you couldn't handle taking a fucking pill each day."

She shook her head and wrapped her arms tighter around her. But Jay just stared at her.

She was pissing him off. This was supposed to be some sort of milestone for them. It should've been some sort of happy moment. It should've been about them making their family. But instead it was this. Some unplanned 'mistake' that she was putting up fronts about.

She was shutting him out. And she wasn't telling him all the details until they were sitting in front of a fucking nurse taking notes to draw her blood. She was always finding ways to shut him out of the big stuff.

"How the fuck do you not realize you've missed multiple periods?" Jay pressed at her with his anger edging to the surface. His patience that he'd been practicing with her over the past several days was fading. This nervousness that creeped into hopefully optimistic excitement was now just turning into frustration. "How do you not mention that to me until now?"

She turned daggers at him. "I did not 'miss' multiple periods," she hissed at him. "I had it in April. I had spotting in May—"

"But not your fucking period," Jay spat back at her.

She glared. "Just getting spotting is normal for me, Jay," she said.

He gestured at the door of the room they'd been left alone in while the nurse took her vial of blood to the in-house lab – and they waited. "Well, apparently spotting is pretty normal in the first trimester of pregnancy too."

Erin raised her eyebrow at him. "I missed my period in June," she put to him. "Not May."

"But you might've missed it in May," Jay said. "You just might not know your body well enough to know you did."

She gaped at him. "I was not pregnant in May, Jay," she snapped angrily. "I'd know if I was fucking … ten weeks pregnant. You'd know. I'm fine."

"You're just late," he muttered.

She glared. "Yes, Jay. I'm a couple weeks late."

"And you're tired," he said flatly, crossing his own arms.

She rolled her eyes. "You're tired. We're both fucking tired. Hank's tired. Work. Ethan. We're all exhausted."

"Mmm …," Jay grunted and cast her eyes. "Your breasts have been tender. You got all … snippy with me the other week when we were …." He shook his head and looked at some poster about proper condom usage. He clearly should be studying up.

She cocked her eyebrow at him. "Yeah, Jay, and every month they get a little tender around my period. So sorry that you manhandling me at that time of month didn't send up some sort of red flag for me."

He glared at the floor, crossing his arms too. "If they come back here and tell me that you're like twelve weeks pregnant …"

She glared at him. "One – they can't tell how many weeks I am from a fucking blood test," she said. "That's why she was asking so many questions. To try to figure out a possible timeline. And two – I'm not twelve weeks pregnant. If I'm pregnant-"

"Two of the home tests were positives," he muttered. That was proof enough to him but not for her. Because she didn't want to believe it. And she didn't want to believe it because she didn't want a baby. Not his baby. Not any baby.

"And one was negative, Jay," she hissed and he moved his eyes back to her in a firm stare.

"How can you not know when we conceived?" he put to her.

She gaped at him more and then glared at him with thin lips, shaking her head and looking away from him. "Sorry that we're having sex so regularly that I couldn't point to a date on the fucking calendar for them, Jay. All that sex must've been really awful for you. I didn't mean to put you through that."

"You should know when you ovulate," he pressed.

"I'm on the pill," she spat at him angrily.

"Except when you forget to take it," he said, "which apparently is pretty fucking often."

She shrugged, shaking her head and looking at the wall. "Well, then I guess from now on you can manage the contraception."

"Sounds like I should be," he muttered. "Clearly it's more than you can handle."

He knew it was unfair. He understood where she was coming from. He knew what their lives looked like that winter. He knew they were all over the place. He knew that they'd made their choices to continue to have a sex life despite that – and that they'd sometimes been lax about the whole contraceptive thing. He knew he'd made his own choice to stop using condoms. He knew it wasn't about her forgetfulness or her being flaky or careless or her trying to back him into some corner by getting knocked up.

He knew he played as much role in all of this as her. That he carried just as much responsibility in this happening – unplanned. But she was … pushing his buttons. Backing him into his own corner. And he was lashing out.

Her eyes came back to him in even harsher daggers but there was a knock on the door to the room they were being held in and then it opened slowly. This time it was the doctor and the look on her face clearly said she'd heard them arguing. She gave Jay a small frown.

"Are you ready for me to come in?" she asked flatly.

"Yes," Erin put out there firmly for the both of them.

The doctor gave her a thin smile and came into the room and closed the door, seating herself at the little desk with the computer.

Jay felt himself fidgeting. He was trying not to. But he didn't know what to do with himself. This is not how he ever imagined this sort of thing would go. Not with him. Not with Erin. He thought it'd be semi-planned. That they'd find out at home. That maybe Erin would surprise him with the news. That they'd both be excited and happy about it.

Instead. Right now. This just felt like a cluster fuck. They were pissed off with each other. They were pissed off with the circumstances. They were stressed. They were anxious. They were lashing out at each other. And he could feel that they were both shutting down.

This was something they needed to have some real conversations about. Some real heavy duty discussions. And he was feeling like that wasn't going to happen.

He was fucking terrified that wasn't going to happen.

That Erin was going to shut him out. That she was going to the pull 'it's my body' card. That she'd declare it was her decision – and she'd do her best to not hear his opinion on the matter.

And his opinion was he didn't fucking care the circumstances. He didn't care that this didn't fit her fucking three-year plan. That she wasn't 33. That she hadn't put in her 10 years. That she hadn't been detective as long as she wanted yet. That they weren't married yet. That they didn't have a house yet. That both of them had fucked up parents. That they weren't sure if they were ready for kids or if they wanted kids or what they wanted their family to look like.

Because he knew enough.

He knew that he wanted a family with Erin. He knew that even though this wasn't planned and it wasn't ideal – that if the doctor told them she was pregnant – that he wanted that baby. Their baby. That he'd fucking figure it out. That they'd figure it out together. And that they could do it. They would do it.

And they'd do it better than his fucking dad or her fucking mom. That they'd be there for that kid. That they'd make it fucking work.

Life wasn't perfect. They both knew that. But they could make it manageable for that kid.

It wasn't even a Catholic thing. It was … it was him being a man. This was his responsibility. He'd gotten her pregnant. He'd been careless too. He'd taken risks. He hadn't been diligent enough. And that was on him.

So he'd step up.

But Jay didn't even see it as stepping up. This was his fiancée. This was his soon to be wife. His best friend. His other half who made him a better man and a better person and a better friend and a better cop. She'd make him a good father. She'd make a good mother. He didn't need to make her a better one. He already knew she'd be a great mom. He saw it near fucking daily as he watched her with Ethan. She just couldn't accept that. But he wasn't scared. He wasn't worried about that.

They could both do this.

They'd gotten into this together. They were together. They'd committed themselves to each other. And if this test was positive – they'd just created a baby together.

His baby. Their baby.

He wanted that child.

He wanted her to want that child.

He wanted to do this.

"It sounds like you've got a lot to talk about," the doctor put to them flatly, as she keyed something into the computer.

Erin made a little noise. "We just … weren't trying to get pregnant right now. It's just not the best timing."

The doctor turned from the computer screen to face them, giving Erin a thin smile again. Jay was sure in a place like this the woman heard all kinds of things and excuses and anxieties and insecurities and choices and options from every age range imaginable every day. She likely didn't feel the need to hear their story. It wasn't like she was a counselor. She was a doctor. She was there to tell them if they were pregnant. Likely to give them a spiel on their choices.

But Jay felt like he could see that judgment in her eyes that Erin was talking about. Or at least judgment that was directed at him. That maybe this doctor had some sympathy for Erin but not for him – even though he was sitting there with her. Even though it was him who believed in his heart they could do this when he knew it was Erin who was struggling to let herself feel that. That it was her who wanted to hear those options and those words. And his heart was pounding in his chest that she'd say it herself. That she'd asked about her options to terminate the pregnancy – if that's what they were told. And he could feel his chest tightening and his heart ready to break with it. Because that's not what he wanted. But it wasn't his body – even if it was his child. But he wanted to know what his fiancée, his girlfriend, his best friend, his partner didn't believe that he'd be there for her and this baby and their family. That she didn't believe he was man enough to do that. To take care of all of them.

"Her brother is sick," he sputtered in some sort of explanation that he didn't want to feel the need to provide but he felt the need to say something. "We help a lot. Things have just been … hectic. We haven't been … as diligent … as we should've been with the … things. … But we're engaged," he added at the end with some firm abruptness.

He felt his voice change when he said that part and Erin must've too. She must've heard it. And if she heard it, the doctor must've heard it. Because the doctor's face changed ever so slightly and Erin's hand moved from where it'd been gripping at her elbow with her stubborn crossed arms and found his hand. It laced into his fingers on his knee. Her ring – his mother's ring – pressing up into his hand and he gazed down at it.

It was the first time she'd touched him since they'd come into the office. She'd kept her distance. It felt like they were at work as they checked-in. That space between. Like they were keeping it professional.

Really she'd been keeping space from him since she told him that she'd missed her period. Since she'd said she didn't know what she wanted to do. That she didn't think she was ready for a baby yet. That she didn't want to take any test until she'd made a decision in her own mind about what she wanted to do. Since he'd gone out and got those home pregnancy tests anyways and lay spooning her trying to convince her to take them while she silently cried and tried to ignore him. Since they took three tests over the next 48 hours with mixed results only increasing their stress and anxiety and causing Erin to further shutdown until she said she'd scheduled an appointment and he'd said he'd go with her. She hadn't wanted him to but he hadn't wanted her to go alone. He hadn't wanted some stranger to hear her decision before he did. He kept hoping they'd talk. That she'd do more than give him that look. That glassy-eyed gaze that said he couldn't help her. That they were a couple. They were engaged but that she still didn't believe he'd keep holding her hand and keep her from falling in that hole – always. That he'd tumble down into it with her before he let go. And while down in the bottom of it, he'd work his ass off to toss her back out even if it meant he was left in the pit.

But now her hand was in his. And he shifted his eyes to her. The anger and annoyance that had been in them had softened. They had a glassy look to them again. But it wasn't her shutdown. She was genuinely vulnerable and he felt it too. And seeing it there in her eyes made him feel his twinge a bit too. They were both hanging out on a branch there. Maybe it was a branch over that fucking pit. And they didn't know what was in the pit. They weren't quite sure how to swing over it. And it was fucking scary.

But at least in a moment they'd know what they were dealing with. That'd be a start. Then they could figure it out. They could work on it together.

He hoped.

So he gave he a thin smile and squeezed her hand tight too and shifted his eyes back to the doctor, trying to still himself. Trying to ready himself. There'd been a handful of times in his life where he'd heard words that had changed his life. Ones that still rung out in his mind in his memories. And he knew that the next few lines of conversation were likely going to be ones about to be seared there too. This was a crossroad.

But they were standing at it together – even if they were fighting and anxious and scared and stressed out their fucking minds and conflicted – they were there together.

"What'd the blood test say?" Erin put to the doctor.

She kept her face very neutral. "You're pregnant," she provided flatly.

Erin squeezed at his hand and he returned it. Though he could feel that she wasn't looking at him so he kept his eyes on the doctor too. His heart pounding in his ears while he waited to hear what Erin said next.

But it wasn't Erin who spoke next, it was the doctor again. "Do you want me to go over some options with you?"

Her squeezed into his hand again. "I think we need to talk privately before we get into that," Erin said with a quietness that didn't usually manifest itself in her.

The doctor allowed a small nod, though. "OK, well, I'm going to recommend that you get a dating ultrasound so we have a better idea of what timeframes we're dealing with," she said and spun back around to the computer. "It will also let us check the health of the fetus, since I understand you just recently stopped taking your contraceptive pill."

"Could that have harmed the baby?" Jay asked abruptly and Erin's hand squeezed tightly into his.

But the doctor just shook her head as she keyed into the computer and brought up a schedule on the screen. "Not normally but an ultrasound will just give us a better picture of where we are," she said. "It might help you with any decisions you have to make."

"I'm not sure if I want to see the baby …" Erin said quietly and Jay's throat tightened again but he gripped onto her hand again.

The doctor spun in her chair again to find her eyes. "You don't have to," she said, "if you don't want to. But it will let us measure the fetus to see how many weeks you are. It will give you a timeframe for your various options. If you're past ten weeks, some of your possible courses of action change slightly."

Erin swallowed so hard that even Jay could feel it – it crushed into his hand. "But I'm not ten weeks," Erin sputtered quietly. "I mean … I haven't had any symptoms. Morning sickness. I've lost weight lately. I mean … I must only be about a month, right? Five or six weeks? At the most?"

The doctor gave her a sad smile. "Well, let's find out," she said and turned to look at the screen. "We've got a slot available the day after next. Would you be able to come in?"

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Just saying … sometimes when you can see you're getting like 6,500 readers and you're only getting one or two reviews in a chapter it's sort of disheartening. It makes you feel like either the chapter really must've sucked (which kind of sucks if it was a longer, harder to write chapter or one you're particularly happy with/proud of) or like people just don't really care.**

 **But anyways …**

 **I'm going to be bouncing around a bit in chapters the next while. I've got lots of little things I'm trying to tie up and arcs to complete and various previously missing chapters that I'm going to go back and try to fill in/finish.**


	128. Just Wow

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 114 - PLANNED PARENTHOOD.**

"OK, Erin," the sonographer said, adjusting herself and the position of the monitor slightly, now that she'd apparently suitably impaled her. "This won't take long. Just try to relax."

"Yea," Erin muttered.

She didn't want to admit she wasn't relaxed. That her heart was pounding harder than it usually did in real life and death situations. That it was just booming in her hears to the point she almost felt dizzy. She was already mentally reminding herself to not immediately stand up when she was finally released. To sit up and let blood flow steady and chest loosen and heartrate slow before she did stand or else she might be dealing with some sort of fainting or black-out spell that would leave her more embarrassed than she already felt.

Not that it would likely make any difference. Her legs were likely going to be rubber with the stress of this. She could already feel them slightly shaking with her knees pulled up and her heels near flush against her ass so they could shove that probe up inside of her.

She felt so fucking exposed. Even though this wasn't nearly as physically uncomfortable a getting her Pap there was something about it that felt like such a fucking violation. But she hadn't exactly been mentally prepared for them to be coming at her with a fucking foot-long wand and telling her to drop her pants and open her knees.

She wasn't sure that having Jay there helped with the feeling of exposure as the reality that they were going to do a transvaginal ultrasound – not just smear some gob and rub the things around her belly – set in. She knew she shouldn't be embarrassed about it. He'd seen her pretty exposed before. Hell, it was her letting him get up between her legs and probe her that got them here in the first place. But this was different. This was some stranger with some giant medical device decorated with basically a condom and lube shoved up in her – and all that was saving her some dignity was a flimsy hospital gown and some pink sheet. She didn't think modesty sheets in this room should be pink.

They'd said this would only take about ten minutes. But it felt like it was taking a hell of a lot longer than that. With the getting changed and the sitting there waiting for them to come in and then them doing their little production of getting that wand ready and getting her to lay back and positioned the way they wanted. They'd given her and Jay the option of one of them inserting it. She'd just about packed up the show at that point and nearly spat at the tech to just do it and get it over with.

And now even though it was in. Even though the monitor was on – she was looking away. She was holding her one arm up above her head – trying to block the chance she might see anything out of her peripheral vision. But even though she was doing her best to just look up and back at the corner off above and behind her, all she could really see was Jay.

He was gripping her other hand so tightly. She knew he could likely feel her hand shaking in his too. She didn't have pockets to hide that tremor in, like Hank had taught her. And somehow, right now, firing a gun – purposely injuring someone, making a life and death choice – seemed like it would be better and easier than this. And she wished for that gun in her hand and those pockets to hide her hand in. And she really wished Jay couldn't feel how much she was shaking. That he didn't see her this vulnerable and exposed. That he couldn't tell she was reeling. That she was scared – when this really shouldn't be that scary. But it was.

This was big. This was life changing. Not just life changing for her. And she was going to have to make a decision. Soon. Not dance around it or put it off. And it wasn't a decision she could take back. She'd either have that baby or she'd end the pregnancy. She'd terminate. She'd have an abortion. She'd, in essence, kill her and Jay's child. She knew that was how he'd see it no matter how understanding and supportive he tried to be. That would be how he saw it. And she knew too that if Hank ever got wind of it – that'd be how he saw it too. He was old fashioned. Abortion – when she was in a relationship, when she was engaged, when they were supposed to be getting married and starting a family anyways – Hank wouldn't see it as an option. And she knew Jay could be just as old fashioned as Hank even if there was more than a quarter century generation gap between them.

But starting a family? Having a baby? She didn't know what that meant. What her life would look like. If she could manage. What it'd mean for her job and career. What she'd be like as a mother. If her and Jay's relationship – as a couple – could really survive that, right now. Not when it wasn't something they'd talked about more and planned. Something they'd decided together. Worked through together. That they'd both decided they could be parents. That they wanted to be parents.

She knew he kept saying they'd talked about it. That they'd talked about it and talked about it. But them thinking about it – having those kinds of discussions – it was different than her actually being pregnant. And she knew that they'd both repeatedly concluded that maybe they were support of feeling more comfortable with the fact they could be parents – that they'd do better than their parents – she thought they'd both decided that they weren't ready yet. Because they weren't sure if they wanted kids. They both understood that the timing wasn't right. That their career – their jobs, their work, their city – and all the good they could do there. That was their priority. That was important to them.

She thought they were on the same page with that. She thought it was something they shared. That it was part of what brought them together. What attracted them to each other.

That no matter what they'd always have the work. It had higher meaning.

And right now that seemed to be crumbling. It felt like a choice. A family or the job. But wasn't that family too? Didn't that have just as much importance?

But she also feared that if she put the job before starting a family now – that if she insisted that the timing was off, that she wanted to wait – that she'd lose Jay. That it would hurt him and make him withdrawal from her. That what they had now – no matter the decision – it wasn't ever going to be the same either. It was going to stay with them. Weigh on them. And she was terrified in a whole other way that it'd tear them apart.

And she didn't know if she'd put the job ahead of Jay. She didn't think she could keep doing the job if she didn't still have him in her life too.

And she knew what he wanted. He'd been clear. He wanted to have this baby. That he'd stand by her and that child. That they'd work it out and figure it out together. That he knew the timing wasn't perfect – but when would it ever be perfect timing, he argued. And it wasn't like they were getting any younger. He knew that maybe they weren't entirely ready. That this wasn't planned. That things were going to have to change – for both of them. But he was committed to doing this. He wanted to do this.

And he'd also made clear that her reaction to that – her fierce independence, her insistence that it was her body and her decision. That it was more her life and career on the line than his. That this came more back on her. But that just made him feel like she didn't respect him in the relationship. She didn't value his opinion. That she didn't care that it was his child too and that he was willing to live up to his responsibilities.

But that was just the thing. That was Jay. He was a man of honor and responsibility. He had his moral code. His ideas. His convictions. And this just felt like it was that. That he thought this was what he needed to do as a good man. This was what his moral code told him was right. It wasn't that he actually wanted the baby. Or at least that's what she was trying to convince herself.

She'd tried to avoid talking about any of it with him. That'd been easy enough and incredibly hard. She'd buried herself in work. She avoided going into the break room at the same time as him – not that she thought he'd say anything at work. But she just didn't want to be near him because she could feel his sadness and urgency and frustration seeping off him. His desire to talk. To get to express himself more. To try to convince her. And she just didn't want to have that leaking over into work. She could feel it in her body language already. She had seen Hank looking at both of them – and the distance she was keeping. The way she'd quickly volunteered to ride with Antonio on a simple run that he could've gone out on on his own.

But that was work. It was harder to shutdown the conversation at home. It felt like they were talking in circles. She kept telling him her position and he kept pressing back with his. So mostly they'd laid in her bed. They'd spooned. For hours. Until they both could pretend they were sleeping – but hadn't. And they'd just held each other. And she'd tried to hide the fact she was crying because she didn't know what to do. Both decisions felt so fucking wrong. And she was so mad at herself for letting it come to this.

This wasn't what having a baby with Jay was supposed to be like. It was supposed to be years down the road. They were supposed to be settled and happy and established. They were supposed to be trying. They were supposed to be looking forward to that baby and excited to be having it. It was supposed to be a conscious decision.

This just felt like something being forced on her. But really she'd forced it on herself. She'd gotten herself into a shitty corner just like she always seemed to manage to do. This felt like something that fucked up pre-teen and teenager should've landed herself into. The kind of situation that Hank had rescued her from before it happened because it was getting too fucking close to happening. This wasn't supposed to be how it happened when she was a grown woman with a good job and a financee. It wasn't supposed to happen right now when she wasn't at her 10 yet and was still proving herself in CPD as more than just "Hank's girl". It wasn't supposed to happen when she was still considered a bit of a green detective, even if her work in Intelligence and their closure rate had garnered her some attention and respect. It wasn't supposed to be happening when Ethan was just coming to terms with his illness and they were all just settling into figuring out how to manage it. When her baby brother was just really settling into life back at home and feeling like he was an important part of the family and had support again. Not when they still had high school to get him through and his teens. Not Justin and Olive and Henry would be getting back to the city in a few months and who knew what that would mean for their family to begin with. Not when they hadn't set a wedding date yet because neither of them really wanted to leave Intelligence – further proving her point that the job was still paramount to both of them, more than family or at least more than having a marriage certificate in hand. Not when they hadn't found a house yet or even settled on what neighborhood they might want to live in.

This was just not supposed to be any of this was happening.

Not that she'd spent much time imaging having kids because after Bunny she'd never wanted to do that to a child. She never wanted to risk it. She didn't want to put any other person through what she'd been through.

She'd only really started entertaining the possibility of maybe sort of being interested in having a child after Henry arrived and feeling these twinges of jealousy in her that her little brother was starting his family and he was at a way more fucked up place in his life than she was hers. Maybe she thought about it a little more when she got Ethan home. But it'd been more of a reflection back on the realization that Hank and Camille were in their 40s when Eth was born. So she thought she had lots of time to make her decision. To still try, if she decided she wanted to.

But then there was Jay. There was that ring. And they'd talked about it in earnest. But at the time it'd all just been talk. The what ifs and maybes and somedays. Only that someday was now and the what ifs were real and there was no maybe about it. It was time to make a decision. It was time to deal with the reality – a reality that even at thirty years old, she wasn't so sure she was ready to deal with.

She found her eyes shifting to Jay's face. But he wasn't looking at her – in her concentrated examination of the ceiling. He was gripping at her hand tightly in both of his, holding it near under his chin, as he leaned far forward in his chair with this look painted across his face.

He was in concentrated examination too. Fascination, really. It was likely more like awe. It was usually a look he reserved for some of his high-definition documentaries. His Planet Earth extended addition boxset. Just utter amazement at the pictures on the screen. But she knew it wasn't some documentary that was catching his attention and drawing that look out of him in that moment. It was real real-life. Their real life.

"Can you see it?" she asked quietly.

He started a bit and looked at her, almost apologetically, like he'd been caught looking at something he wasn't supposed to. And maybe he wasn't supposed to. Maybe if she wasn't going to look, she didn't really want him looking too. She didn't want him to see it. She didn't want him to make it more real in his mind. To visualize it. To get attached to it. But she also didn't want him to treat this – their life, their baby, this decision – like some sort of PBS documentary.

"Umm … yeah," he stuttered a little uncharacteristically for Jay. He usually had something to say – when a question was put to him. More often than not he had some snark or sass on the tip of his tongue to accompany the words he was forming. But apparently not today.

But it was the sonographer who rescued him a bit – her eyes shifting to Erin too.

"Did you want to see, Erin?" she asked gently.

"I don't know," she muttered. "I don't think so." But her eyes were fixed on Jay's. His resting on her so steadily now. This concern and sympathy and sincerity that he was so good at projecting – at least to her. But it was still hard to see. "Does it look like a baby?" she near whispered at him.

His hand squeezed into hers even more tightly. But it just made her more aware of the anxious tremor that was still shaking there. "Yea," he acknowledged. "Kind of."

Erin sighed and shifted her eyes up to ceiling again. "So we aren't at a month are we …" she mumbled rhetorically. She knew enough that if she was really just a couple weeks late –if she'd really just missed her period in June – that they shouldn't be seeing much of anything. That what Jay was staring on that screen shouldn't bring so much awe to his face – because it should be pretty much an unrecognizable blob that the sonographer told them was the baby.

"I was just about to measure for the dating," the sonographer said. "Did you have any guesses?"

"We have no idea …" Erin said. "I was thinking maybe like five weeks."

The sonographer gave a little nod and clicked a few buttons on the control panel in front of her. "Ten weeks, three days," she recited with this sort of medical cheeriness.

"Ten weeks," Jay said and Erin could see the gears turning in his head. She could hear his words from the previous day ringing in her ears about how mad he was going to be with her if she was more than a few weeks late and hadn't brought him into the loop. And her mind settled into the comment by the doctor – that after ten weeks, terminating the pregnancy wasn't as simple as a pill. If she wanted to abort, she'd have to go through the entire procedure. She'd have to book it and go in and sit there and lay there and go through all of it. A situation she'd only ever been in as the one offering support to a few friends who'd found themselves in bad spots before. A situation she didn't think she'd be in herself.

This wouldn't just be a trip to a pharmacy now. And that made it harder. Bigger.

But then Jay's eyes shifted back to hers, brighter than before and there was a smile on his face. "Ten weeks," he told her more firmly. "Cleveland." He looked at the sonographer with this grin on his face. "We took a weekend getaway for her thirtieth. We had fun," he said and leaned forward and put a hand on her forehead, brushing some of her hair away from her face and still smiling at her. He seemed so reassuringly happy but she wasn't sure she did.

She wasn't sure that made sense. Ten weeks. Cleveland. Sex, forgetting to take drugs – specifically her birth control – and rock and roll? Only she was pretty sure that she had taken her pills that weekend. But she supposed it wouldn't have made much difference if she hadn't been taking them properly in the weeks before. And she hadn't. April. Ethan's meningitis scare. Him still bouncing back from the end of his trial. The Regionals of his Robotics team down in St. Louis. And Nadia and her trying to drown out that pain by distracting herself with as much as possible – including sex. Not to mention trying to forget the fact she was leaving her twenties behind. She'd been all over the place that much. At home – in her condo – regularly and diligently taking her pills hadn't been one of them.

So maybe it made more sense than she wanted to admit. Maybe the chaos followed by a weekend finally away from it. With Jay. In a nice, comfortable hotel. With them seeing live music and going to bars and eating good food. Going to record shops and antique shops and both genuinely being relaxed and happy – and having more free time to enjoy each other than they ever really had had since they'd been together – maybe that left them a little too relaxed and happy. Because apparently they'd let their guards down enough they were pregnant. Ten weeks pregnant.

"What can you see?" she asked Jay carefully, because his face seemed so excited about it. Not angry or annoyed like he'd been threatening. He seemed thrilled they could say they'd gotten knocked up in fucking Cleveland. Erin didn't think that screamed romance or a good contraception story to horrify a child with some day. Though, maybe it was pretty embarrassing. Embarrassing for them too. The best they could do for a short getaway was Cleveland and they'd still turned it into a love den apparently.

"Umm …," Jay started to lean forward again, his hand falling away from her forehead and she wasn't sure she wanted him to move it. She kind of liked it there. "Well, like it's head and feet."

"I can point out a few things if you want," the sonographer offered and Jay looked at her pleadingly.

So Erin let out a slow breath, she let herself take her time exhaling it. To try to compose herself. To try to prepare herself for this. To try to convince herself that by looking didn't mean she'd made a decision. But she wasn't sure if after seeing the look on Jay's face there was any decision to be made anymore. Not one where she had anything that resembled a happy outcome. But she decided that she didn't have to deal with that until later. Right now it was just the decision on if she was going to look or not. If she was going to let herself see what was make Jay's face light up that way. And she wanted to understand what made him look like that – because there were few things that made him get that little boy hopeful, bright-eyed competence that he was wearing in that moment.

She gave a little nod and turned her head just as slowly as the sonographer turned the panel toward her – so she could see. And she did see and she felt like her heart skipped a beat and her breath did catch. Because it was a baby there. Her baby. Their baby. Very clearly a baby. She didn't need the sonographer to point out where it was. Or it's bulbous head or its little arms or its longer legs and distinct feet. Its feet were in the air – and she could almost swear she could make out the toes. It was small. It wasn't exactly fully formed looking. But it was unmistakably a baby. A human being growing in her.

And Erin felt her heart break. She felt a flood hit her as she second-guessed her decision to look. Because now this was going to be so much harder. Now she was even less sure she still had a decision to make. Now she felt that slap of the shift in her life pummeling into her even more. And it took her breath away and she wasn't sure it was in a good way. But Jay's hand squeezed into hers.

"Amazing, right," he said quietly, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder on the bed, as he looked at the screen too.

"Yea …" she allowed quietly.

Because it was. Because they'd done that. They'd made that. It was inside her. A part of her. A part of them was now growing in her. And that was a strange feeling to wrap her head around. To try to understand. To process.

"So you can see the head," the sonographer said, pointing at the screen. "And that black spot there is the brain developing. The nose," she said, her finger moving each time. "And the arms. The skin is still pretty translucent at this point, so you can see the spine. The legs. You can see the toes. No longer webbed."

Jay made a sound and Erin knew why. The baby had just moved. It'd shifted ever so slightly on the screen. Bobbing away but its legs clearly giving a kick and its arms flailing just momentarily. She shot him a look. He'd moved to sit up straighter and was staring at the screen. That concentration creasing across his face again. That observer, detective look.

"Is it a boy …?" he asked hesitantly.

Erin looked at him hardly. "They can't tell that yet," she put bluntly – slightly annoyed. Because she'd looked. She'd done that much. She didn't want to wade into this territory too. She didn't want to know if it was a son or a daughter that part of her didn't feel ready for, that part of her wasn't sure if she wanted, that part of her wanted to be greedy and self-centered and independent and focus on herself and her job and her life. Not bring another one into the world.

But the sonographer smiled. "It's OK," she said. "The baby's putting on a show. I see what he's looking at. But, Erin's right we can't really tell yet."

Erin's eyes shifted back to the screen and Jay leaned forward again to gaze too. The woman used something on the screen to circle a little area between the baby's legs – now more visible after the seeming kicking. But Erin's breath caught again as she saw what Jay had caught sight off.

"That's the genital nub," the sonographer said. "All fetuses have them. Sex is assigned at conception but the sex organs don't form until much later. We all just look like this at the start."

"Mmm," Jay acknowledged with some apparent disappointment. "So it turns into the penis or the clitoris …"

Her shot him an annoyed look but he was still staring at the screen with that look he got while they were watching one of his documentaries.

"It's our baby," she pushed at him. "Not the Nature of Things."

He cast her a look and cocked his eyebrow at her and she wondered if he'd heard it. Because she had – and she'd stopped. She'd called it "our baby" – and she hadn't meant to. But that was what it was, wasn't it? That was the best way to describe it. But maybe he hadn't heard or he hadn't noticed – or he just liked hearing it if he did, because the cocked eyebrow didn't give way to any commentary beyond a gesture back at the screen. "Yea, well …", like that proved his point enough. Like it said it all. That there was their baby and there was the genital nub – plainly visible – that would eventually tell them if their baby was a boy or a girl.

"He's right," the sonographer said. "It is what turns into the penis or the clitoris. And this area you can see here … that will develop into the scrotum or labia. But we can only kind of start to tell which it is going to be at about eleven weeks, so you're right on the borderline. But really, you probably won't get definitively told the gender until you're about 20 weeks. Maybe earlier if you get lucky and the baby positions itself just right."

"How do you tell at eleven?" Jay pressed too eagerly. He was sitting forward on the edge of his seat – staring at the sonographer with much anticipation. An anticipation that took Erin off guard because he'd so often said he wasn't sure he'd be a good parent. He wasn't sure he wanted to be a parent. He wasn't sure he wanted a boy or a girl. But apparently he really wanted to know if they were having a boy or a girl.

The sonographer gave him a small smile. "Here, we don't start handing out the baby's gender until 20 weeks," she clarified a bit more firmly. "But I can print you a couple pictures, and I'm sure you can find some ways to make your own guesses."

Jay nodded even more eagerly at that but she gave him another look. She knew how he was with Google. He Googled so many science articles and read such random news articles about all these studies. He was a talking encyclopedia and supported all his facts with that fucking smartphone attached to his hand. A few key strokes to prove his point. Or to quote the most random fact or figure she'd ever fucking heard and knew knew she cared about. She knew he'd be calling it up on his phone the moment they got out of there and she didn't really want him to. Not yet. She didn't want to know that yet.

But maybe she did. Maybe it made a difference if it was a boy or a girl. Because a girl terrified her. She could fuck up a girl so badly. But she knew that Jay thought he'd fuck up a boy just as badly. That all their baggage would come out and they'd turned their kids into them – even though they didn't want their parents raising them.

But Erin knew how her heart tightened when she dealt with other little girls who'd been through trauma. When she was able to help them. Or when she felt like she failed them. And she knew that Jay got the same way with those young teen boys. Erin knew that she knew how to deal with boys. That maybe she knew how to raise a boy after Ethan. But she also knew that Jay would be a great daddy to a little girl. That she'd have him wrapped around her little finger in a instant, even if he thought he didn't know what to do with a girl. And she knew that Hank – he'd be good with any grandchild – but she thought it'd be different if it was a girl. That it'd bring out a different side in him. That it'd bring out a different side in Ethan. That maybe it'd bring out a different side in her too. Maybe she wouldn't have to be such a tough guy.

She could be a tough mama. A tough girl. Just tough. Just her. And maybe that'd be enough. Maybe it had been enough for a long time. Maybe it'd be enough to a child. Maybe it was already enough for Jay. Maybe it always had been.

But maybe she really wasn't ready to think about any of that. She didn't want to think about any of that yet. But then that print out of the ultrasound was placed in the center of her chest and she picked it up and gazed at it – Jay, still holding tightly onto her hand and looking too.

"The brain," Erin asked cautiously, as her eyes set on that head too big for its little body but that still looked so human already. "The black spot. That's supposed to look like that?"

"Her baby brother has juvenile M.S.," Jay interjected with a firmness. That he was in control. That he was knowledgeable. That he was as fiercely protective of Ethan – and sharing this information – as she was or Hank was. But that this was a situation he'd share it in – because it wasn't about just Ethan than, it was about their child. And he'd protect them and fight around things and be prepared for inevitabilities – just like he was with her baby brother when he had no reason to be. But he was. "Aggressive. Progressive. He's got the brain lesions."

The sonographer gave them sympathetic look at that. "The black spot is perfectly normally," she assured. "It's just the way the development shows up on the imaging. It's not an abnormality."

"So the baby's healthy?" Erin asked.

The sonographer nodded. "You can talk to the doctor about some other testing options or some additional imaging if there's anything that runs in your families or that you're particularly concerned about. We don't see M.S. in fetuses, though. And, really, if there were congenital malformations, we can usually see them by the end of the tenth week. So you're right there and I'm not seeing that here. The doctor will go over the results with you more, but this appears to be a healthy baby for this stage of development."

"But … I … I've had some breast tenderness—"

"They're bigger," Jay blurted again and she cast him an even more annoyed look. He seemed to actually catch and acknowledge that one. His eyes weren't quite as glued to the screen in that moment. He sat back a bit too. "She's been slightly moodier than usual too …" he directed at sonographer and not her. It earned a smile out of the sonographer but Erin tried to yank her hand from him at that but he gripped it firmly. "I like your sass," he said quietly – though she wouldn't say privately and she still glared.

But she moved her eyes back to the other woman in the room. "I haven't had morning sickness or … it just hasn't been what I would've expected …"

"Well, a lot of women would tell you that you're pretty lucky there," the sonographer provided.

Erin let out a little sound and looked at her more firmly. "I'm not showing. Is … it … a normal size? Weight?"

The sonographer nodded. "It looks like it to me. About the size of a brazil nut. An inch and a quarter."

"That's all," Erin gaped at the very real, so human looking image on the screen.

The sonographer nodded. "Yep. You're just moving into the fetal stage. Just leaving the embryonic. But The doctor can talk to you more about that if you feel that it might be longer than ten weeks ago that you became pregnant. But to me, this looks like a normal late first-trimester fetus."

"But we can't hear anything," Erin said. "Is that normal?"

The sonographer gave her a thin smile. "I didn't turn up the sound, since you seemed unsure if you wanted to see the imaging," she said. "Would you like to hear your baby's heartbeat?"

Erin nodded – before she even realized she'd nodded. But she'd already done it and the woman had already reached to turn up the levels. And there it was. A galloping racing out of the speaker like little hoof beats thudding away – echoing and ringing in her ears above and beyond the pounding of her own heart there. Speeding faster than it but joining with it. Joining with the racing heart she could feel in hands fingers that were pressed into her palm too. The three of them just going a million miles an hour.

But she looked over at Jay – a small smile already pulling at her lips, only to find him sitting there slack jawed at the pace of the pulse.

"One-hundred and sixty beats per minute," the sonographer says. "Perfectly normal too."

"Wow …" Jay managed.

But Erin just gaved at him for a moment, finding his eyes in his startled examination of the screen now that the sound was emitting from it. She gave him a smile, squeezing his hand more purposely and turned back to look too.

"Yeah … wow …," she agreed, that heart beat echoing louder and louder into her being.

Just wow.


	129. Strike Out

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 112 - JUST WOW.**

Voight shifted his eyes off of the playing field as he noticed Erin had finally appeared – trudging up the bleachers toward him with Halstead taking up the rear. Looked like she was fucking in a right fine mood too. Someone had clearly pissed in her coffee that morning. Both of their coffees by the looks of it. Though Halstead didn't look quite as sour. But there was something going on across his face. Couldn't quite pinpoint it. Halstead tried to keep up the tough guy image with varying levels of success. But had a decent enough poker face. Could pull it off most of the time – but tough guys wouldn't pull the wool over other tough guy's faces entirely. Just didn't work. You knew the look. And, whatever the fuck was going on – they better get ready for another fucking whiff of ammonia.

Erin had been really fucking pissing him off the past few days. Likely an understatement. He didn't know what the fuck was going on. But he had some guesses. It was clearly something on the homefront. Playing house was biting her and Halstead in the ass. They were having some sort of little spousal tiff and it was fucking seeping over into the workplace. The fucking body language and the tension had been a little much. Didn't need to fucking deal with it. These kids needed to learn how to fucking keep it in their pants. Had barely gotten through Burgess and Ruzek fucking around, only for Burgess and Roman to fuck around and now he was having to tolerate Erin and Halstead fucking around.

He wasn't one to turn a blind-eye to this kind of shit. But he was having to fucking suck it up with these kids. Only when him sucking it up started to have implications for his unit – and the fucking dynamic and productivity he'd worked to establish there – than they had a fucking problem.

And the past few days. There'd definitely been a fucking problem. Might as well have been a summer cold front blowing through his bullpen for whatever the fuck was going on between the two of them. He'd given Erin enough looks that she should've fucking known he was losing his patience and that she needed to fucking cool it. Because this was exactly the kind of shit that he wasn't going to put up with. Was doing her a big solid – as her fucking father – with letting the two of them roll around in the sack with rings on their fingers and bells on their toes – and still work in his fucking unit. Still work as fucking partners. But if they couldn't keep the professional, professional – then that was it.

He'd given them more than six months to get their shit together. Fucking pushing seven. Lots of leeway. Should've at least given him a fucking date by now and at least told him what the plan was with getting one of them transferred out and into as decent of situation as they could manage in the circumstances. Been patient. But that patience was about to fucking run out if he was having to look at their spats at work. No place for that bullshit on the job. Buck up. Suck it up. Or get the fuck out. End of story.

Whatever was going on had meant that he hadn't had to look at Halstead's sorry face in his own home most of that week, though. Erin hadn't been dragging him over and he sure as fuck hadn't invited himself either. But it'd also meant that one night Erin bailed on him at the last minute. Which – fine – Ethan was his kid and his problem, but he would've appreciated a bit more notice that she "wasn't available" to take him over to physio and get him home after. Whatever the fuck that meant. He'd just given her a suitably unimpressed look. She'd returned it and took leave. Fine. Wasn't going to give his grown daughter a smack down about it. Not at work. And tried not to treat her like his fucking babysitting service. They had enough little spats of their own about that when she got frustrated with the amount of time and effort Magoo took and the level of involvement she'd ended up taking in his life – mostly on her own accord. Though, Hank would admit he'd become pretty fucking dependent on having her – and likely Halstead – around to help manage it all. He wasn't in the right job to be managing all Eth's bullshit as a single parent. He acknowledged he needed her help. Though, he wasn't much of vocalizing those kinds of acknowledgement. So every once and a while she'd flare up at him about it. They'd have their own little tiff. But it was usually said and done pretty quick.

Hadn't been that time. Because first she bailed and then she did her usual take Friday for herself thing. Also fine. Kid should do that. But he'd been calling and texting her all fucking night and she hadn't responded to any of that either. So he'd gone between being worried about her and being really fucking pissed at her. But had to just tell himself that her and Halstead were home fighting it out and he just needed to stay the fuck out of it. Still, the kid could return a fucking phone call and acknowledge that he was trying to get something sorted out with her. She hadn't. So now she was just going to have to pay the consequences. He knew she'd be even less impressed then she looked right now. But it was what it fucking was.

"You're late," he rasped at her as she got up within earshot.

Her whole fucking face changed. Not to piss her usual piss and vinegar. Something else. Somewhere been shock and embarrassment before complete displeasure with him sunk in and she moved to sit on the opposite side of him without comment.

"We had a thing," Halstead said with some firmness, as he shuffled passed him. Taking a bit too long to stand over him – like he was making some sort of point by towering over him for a moment before he sat his ass down next to Erin, elbows planted on his knees while he searched out Magoo in the dugout.

"A thing," Hank nodded, giving Erin another look but she was doing as good of job at looking pretty damn interested in the back of Ethan's head as Halstead was.

"Yes, Hank, a thing," she said flatly – still not looking at him.

"That what they calling it now," he smacked.

She did cast him a dirty look at. "Don't start," she put bluntly. Blunter than he liked out his kids' mouths. Didn't matter they were adults – tone and attitude only got tolerated so much. Sometimes you needed to remind them who were the kids and who was the fucking parent in the relationship. That title earned you some fucking rights about how they spoke to you. And you didn't talk to your father like that – no matter what fucking boundaries Erin seemed to think she was allowed to push on a pretty fucking regular basis.

"Just don't know what 'things' you can find yourself up to at nine fucking a.m. on a Saturday morning," he said.

"Maybe nine fucking a.m. on a Saturday is too fucking early for a baseball game," Erin said giving him those defiant eyes, "and I wanted to sleep in. For once."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have told your brother you'd be here," Hank pushed back at her.

She made a noise and cracked the cap on the bottle of water she had in her hand. He gazed at that too as she brought it up to her mouth to take a drink. Not her usual Saturday morning poison. Erin lived off coffee. So did fucking Halstead and he didn't have anything with him that morning.

"I didn't tell Ethan I'd be here," she muttered as she brought the bottle away from her mouth.

"You've established a precedent with him," Hank put to her. "Been coming to his games. He expects to see you out here unless he's got reason otherwise."

She shrugged. "Yea, well, maybe he should expect a little less if the team's going to schedule games for nine on a weekend," she said and took another swig of that water, holding it in her cheeks for a long beat before swallowing. "It's too early for baseball."

"They're doing it while it's still cool out," he said. "So the kids don't overheat."

She shook her head. "It's as muggy as fuck," she mumbled. "Supposed to get up to 90 today. It's disgusting already."

"So maybe a 9 a.m. game makes a whole lotta sense," Hank said flatly.

Erin cast him another look and took a long drink of her water, slowly turning her head back when Halstead gave a little clap and called out, "C'mon, Eth, let's see some pop in that swing."

The kid glanced up from his trek over to the batter's box and gave a little smile and held up a hand in greeting when he spotted that Erin and Halstead had finally shown themselves. In the fucking seventh inning stretch. The two of them held up their hands in a small wave back. At least the kid looked happy to see them, even if neither of them looked particularly thrilled to be there.

"Where's your phone?" Hank asked.

Erin gave him a glance and shrugged. "My pocket," she said.

He stared at her more firmly. "Trying to reach you all night," he said. "This mornin'."

She annoyed sighed at him. "Hank, I'm not the nanny on Fridays. We were busy."

"Busy," Hank smacked. "Too busy to check your messages and give me an answer."

She let out a breath, flaring her nostrils before looking at him. "I knew I'd see you this morning. Since you weren't calling my work phone, I figured it could wait."

He just smacked again. Gazed at E. Looked like he was likely going to walk. The kid on the mound was all over the place. There was nothing his son could hit there and he could fucking hit shit out of the park in this diamond. One thing about the crutches – sure as fuck had given his kid some upper body strength. But Erin wasn't watching her little brother. She was glaring at him.

"Are you going to tell me what you wanted or do I need to check my messages?" she mouthed.

He shrugged, poking his tongue in his cheek, as he watched Eth take an ill-advised swing. Maybe he'd be striking out. "Don't need your answer now, made the decision for you." Her glare intensified on him at that and get gave her a warning look before jutting his chin back out at her brother. "Need you to watch him today."

She gaped at him. "What? No."

His eyes set on her firmly. Because that was another part of their little deal. Sure – she came over on her own accord a lot. Helped out a lot. But he didn't ask her too. There were only a handful of times where he'd had to outright ask her to be Eth's babysitter. And each one of them there'd been a reason. This was one of those times. He'd tried to give her a bit of notice. Let her have a bit of say. Because if she'd put up a fuss, he would've worked out other arrangements. Sent him over to the boxing gym and had Michelle hang out with him for the day. Or had him go home with one of the other kids from ball after the game for part of the day. But Erin hadn't so much as looked at his texts apparently. So there were no other arrangements. She was it.

"Hank," she spat at him. "This is not a good day."

"What you got goin' on?" he asked plainly.

She gaped at him. "It doesn't matter what we've got goin' on."

Halstead leaned into his view at that. His face still had that look about it. "Ah, Sarge, today's really not a good day for it."

"Why?" Hank said flatly.

"We've got plans," Erin pressed at him.

"Plans that you can't include your brother in?"

"Sarge, we've just got some things we need to deal with today," Halstead tried in that firm tone of his that only ever really got him so far with Voight.

Voight shrugged. "You going to some open houses again?" Erin's mouth was just hanging in annoyed anger at him. But he didn't give a shit. "In Roscoe? Take him. We're up here anyway."

"Hank," Erin spat. "We are not your babysitters. We don't have to run our weekend plans by you and off work hours, we aren't accountable to you. I don't have to answer my personal phone. I don't have to come to Ethan's ball games. And I sure as fuck don't have to babysit so you can have Saturday off. I should be asking what you're doing that you can't include Ethan."

Hank smacked at her and shrugged. "Got to take care of some business," he put flatly.

"That you can't include Ethan in?" she pressed at him angrily.

He looked her in the eye and smacked again to prove his point.

She shook her head hard at him, clearly fuming, as she looked out at the field just in time to see Ethan get called out. "We aren't watching him," she muttered. "Not today."

Hank shrugged. "OK, you comfortable with your brother spending a day this hot alone?"

Erin's eyes darted back to him. "Are you?" she bristled.

He just gave her a look and pushed himself up off the bench. "Guess so," he said and started to walk down to the fence so he could give his boy a brief pep talk before taking his leave. He turned and gave her look. "Goin' to have my phone off for a few hours," he said.

She shook her head at him hard and glared. "You're un-fucking-believable," she said loudly enough to garner some looks from the other spectators.

But Hank just smacked at her and Halstead again and kept going down the bleachers. Maybe an afternoon of babysitting them would help them get their shit in order. At least it'd give him a break from having to look at it.

Whatever it was. Though, he didn't think he needed his shield to start connecting some of those dots.


	130. Hand Holding

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 113 - STRIKE OUT.**

Erin slid the door of her bedroom alcove into place, crossing her arms and giving Jay a bit of a look before letting a smile tug at her lips as she returned to the couch. He was gazing at his phone intensely; the ultrasound photo slumped on his chest. She didn't have a doubt in her mind what he was doing – what he'd started doing the first moment he got the tiniest bit of privacy. But spotting her movement, he let the phone come down ever so briefly to cast her a glance. Apparently, that was enough of a confirmation that it was just her – not Ethan – coming back out of the room, and he looked back to the screen. Apparently he didn't care he'd been caught it is overt Googling.

"He asleep?" he mumbled. He clearly wasn't particularly interested in that bit of information.

But Erin still nodded as she moved across the room, and curled herself onto the couch next to him – her elbow resting against the back of the sofa and both her legs tucked under her, though close enough to be invading his space just slightly. Her thigh at her bent knee abutting his.

"We tired him out," she allowed.

Jay just made a little noise of agreement in that and went back to looking at the phone, his thumb moving around on the screen. She watched him – the movements of his hand. Though her eyes partially set on her bedroom door, weighing just how asleep Eth likely was. But she was pretty sure he was out for the count.

They'd definitely put in a full day with him. It wasn't a day she'd particularly wanted to have with him. She knew Jay hadn't particularly wanted it either. They had more than a few things they needed to talk about. They needed time. Time to talk. Time to process. Likely time to argue some more and completely freak-out. To try to figure things out. But maybe the Ethan distraction – the time to let them come down from the outright terror and the outright high … that wow … of the morning, wasn't a bad thing.

Erin wasn't sure it'd been a bad thing for her at all. In the end. As pissed as she was at Hank for just dumping him on them. Literally walking away and turning off his phone – putting himself out of reach – on a record-setting heat and humidity day.

What the hell was she supposed to do? Just leave Ethan at the ball diamond? Tell him to go back to the house and fend for himself? In the midst of a heat and humidity wave that was bound to at least create pseudo-flares in him – if not more.

That pissed her off more. Because Hank knew that she wouldn't do that to her baby brother. She couldn't. No matter how much she wanted to – because she wanted time to herself that day, she wanted time with Jay that day, she wanted time to talk and to think and likely to cry (though she wasn't about to admit that) and she really wanted to prove a point to Hank. That he didn't own her personal time. That there was a work and family divide. That he couldn't just tell her what to do – and expect her to jump.

But that wasn't fair to Ethan.

It made her even madder at Hank because he was clearly up to something. Something that he obviously felt was important and needed to be managed right then. Those sorts of situations she both wanted to know about – and didn't. But it seemed unfair of him to just … drag her into it … Jay and Ethan into it … while also keeping her in the dark. Just feed her the line that she wasn't always going to like the way he operated. That he wasn't always going to explain to her why he did the things he did.

No fucking kidding, Hank. They'd pretty much established that repeatedly since she was twelve years old. But it was still a difficult pill to swallow. Especially not as an adult. Fuck that – she was a grown woman, a detective, engaged, carrying her own fucking child while being a key caregiver in her baby brother's upbringing. Sometimes she felt she deserved some sort of explanation. Like on a day when she'd just heard the heartbeat of the baby she didn't know she wanted and then suddenly had her baby brother dumped on her rather than dealing with all the thoughts she had running through her head.

Hank owed her that much. She knew he didn't like to hear or be told that he owed her anything. That there was this precedent set up that he'd brought her home – that he'd raised her, that she was the child and he was the parent – and because of that it was always going to be her who owed him. It hung over them. And she fucking hated that. Because she knew she owed him. She would always feel indebted to him in some way. And Camille. She knew what they did for her. She'd spend the rest of her life acutely aware of it. She'd likely always feel unworthy of it. She'd likely always be trying to pay him back in some way – or to at least do him proud. And Camille. But she thought she'd grown enough, she'd matured enough, she was adult enough, independent enough, had done enough – for him, for Justin, for Ethan – that at some point Hank owed her something too. At least a fucking explanation as to what the hell he was off to that day. Why she was having her baby brother dumped on her unexpectedly.

And it wasn't just her and Jay who were slightly unimpressed with the babysitting duty. Eth was too.

Eth was in full-fledged teenager mode that summer. Too big for his breeches, as Hank liked to say. She wouldn't be surprised if the only thing that Hank was up to was taking a break from his son before he throttled his son.

Eth had started out by taking his sweet ass time packing up his stuff and talking to other players on his team before coming away from the dugout. He'd then demanded to know where his dad was.

"I spend Saturday with Dad," he'd said firmly, more than once. "Unless he's working. Is he working?"

"I don't know, Ethan. He's off doing something. Don't ask too many questions," Erin had sighed at him and had to fight with him about who was going to carry his giant catcher gear bag to the car in that heat. Because God-fucking-forbid his crush see that he needed help. Like that might compromise his little boy masculinity. Compromise him as some sort of catch for this little girl who was crushing on him just as badly in this summer puppy love episode that she was having to watch play out. And it was fucking agonizing in its horrid cuteness. It'd ended up being Jay who had near wrenched the bag out of Eth's struggling arms and lugged the thing back to the car. Jay had been given abut the dirtiest look ever. He'd caught it and he his own words for Eth. Jay was clearly not in the mood to take thirteen-year-old crap that day either.

"Why shouldn't I ask questions?" Eth hissed at her in his weirdly stiff gait with that fucking plastic brace he wore to manage ball. The thing must feel like a sauna and was definitely going to stink even more than usual when they got in a situation to pull it off him. Not that Hank had left his crutches with them, though. So he was going to have to wear the disgusting thing all day – because she wasn't going to drive all the way back across town to get the fucking things from the house. Hopefully he at least had a change of clothes in his bag so he wasn't in uniform all day too. He did but he'd taken his sweet-ass time changing in the bathroom too – because it was a bathroom not a change room with the seating options that Eth needed to manage maneuvering himself in and out of clothes anymore. Jay ended up having to go in, he was taking so fucking long. And she didn't get the impression that Ethan appreciated the help dealing with some of the buttons on his gear based on the attitude radiating off both of them when they emerged.

Jay had come out first and simply provided, "Oh, this is going to be an awesome day."

They'd taken him to a juice bar nearby after that to sit somewhere cool for a while and get some food into him after his ball game – because Hank had managed to provide that Eth was refusing to eat in the humidity and had taken his pills on an empty stomach and likely puked them up during warm-up drills before the game. So awesome. Hank knew how to set up a truly awesome day.

Erin definitely got the sense that he was likely paying her back for not responding to his texts the night before and for her and Halstead giving off less than professional vibes at work that week. He could be like that. He was a real fucking pain in the ass. He wondered why his kids were a pain in the ass? She thought that explanation should be right in front of him. Nature and nurture right there. How could you grow up as Hank's kid and not end up being a royal fucking pain in the ass?

It'd taken Eth ages to pick out what he wanted. They'd had to read the menu to him over and over again – with him getting pissed off at them for reading the menu and not letting him read it himself. But Erin was pretty convinced he couldn't actually see the board with how he was squinting at it – and his everyday reading was so fucking slow. Hank might be able to tolerate sitting through him taking six years to stumble through a sentence. Erin didn't. She always got so frustrated while helping him do homework and just ended up reading things out loud to him. That usually pissed Hank off if he caught her doing it. But she'd argue that Ethan got a hell of a lot more done while she was helping him than he ever did with Hank and his grueling method of just sitting there with his finger pointed under each word until Ethan managed to spit out the sentence. But he argued at her that she wasn't letting him learn how to cope with his academic challenges if she just read it to him. That he needed to learn how to manage on his own. That he wouldn't always have help. She just didn't have that level of patience. For how impatient Hank could be, he sure as fuck had patience when it came to reading and homework. He was likely channeling Camille to manage that.

He'd seemed to cheer up momentarily while they sat in the juice bar. Almost. Until he decided to indicate he was more than old enough to be left home alone and they could just drop him off. When Erin had told him that they had some things to do on the North Side, he'd got bent out of shape again, and insisted he could manage taking the L home. She'd had to very clearly indicate that wasn't happening either – even though she was pretty much at the point that she was almost ready to tell him to go and do just that. Thing was if he did have a flare up – and he decided to be blind to it happening – it was going to be on her. As much as it was a pain in the ass to deal with Eth that day, it'd be a larger fucking pain the ass if he ended up in the hospital because he let a simple flare turn into an exacerbation or worse. They didn't need to be dealing with a fucking relapse.

So he'd gotten dragged with them to an open house – because Hank was right, there was one they wanted to go to. Well, one she had wanted to go to earlier in the week before their lives had taken this sudden drastic shift of what-ifs and what-nows. She actually probably wouldn't have gone. Just dropped it – because she thought right now thinking about what they wanted to do about living situations was about the last thing on their minds. But maybe it should be up in the top of their mind. Because if they were going to try this – if she could convince herself to try this – where the fuck were they going to live in seven months? She supposed they could manage her condo for a while. But she wasn't really sure she wanted to live in a one-bedroom condo with a baby. And Jay's apartment was a dump. He'd made the whole poor cop lifestyle thing an art. His toilet might as well be in his kitchen. The building so looked like it'd been decorated in the 70s and she thought Jay actually liked that about it. Spare, dark and way too much wood paneling. He likely thought it was functional … and moody … like him. She thought it was kind of depressing in his sparseness. He called it intimidate. She called it as dingy as some prison cells she saw.

Their diverse views on adequate living arrangements had made some interesting house hunting moments. Adding Ethan to the mix had only made it more interesting.

"This is like the smallest house on the street," he'd bluntly informed them when they'd ignored his protests about attending the open house with them and dragged him along anyways. Because with the mood he was in, about the last thing Erin wanted to do (when watching Eth was already on her list of last things she wanted to do that day) was sit at Hank's place alone with him while he buoyed around in his big boy pants even more.

"It's a coach house," Erin informed him, as they walked up the steps – praying to God he'd just shut the fuck up and let them at least make something that almost resembled a decent impression to the realtor and the landlord, because she was pretty sure her and Jay's wonderful personalities had done very little to help them in that department so far.

"What's that?" Ethan muttered.

"Where they kept the horses and carriages," Jay had provided.

Eth gaped at them. "Horses and carriages? So this place is like three hundred years old?"

"More like a hundred-and-twenty," Jay provided staring at the listing on his phone. Erin had given him a dirty look at that and he'd glanced at her. "What? It says it was built 1896."

"Eighteen-ninety-six?" Eth had mocked. "That's not even last century. That's like last millennium."

Erin rolled her eyes. "Whatever, it's what we're looking at."

"You want to live in basically a garage for horses," Ethan informed her as he clomped up the steps on the front porch. "You know they likely shit in there."

Erin just cast him a look. "Money's moving out of your allowance jar," she put flatly.

He gaped at her more, knitting his eyebrows. She could tell he was about to protest – but apparently thought better of it. She knew that he knew she was serious. And, if this was anywhere near the kind of attitude that he'd been giving Hank that week, she didn't doubt that his allowance had been whittled down all week. There likely wasn't much left.

He'd mostly behaved while they were getting a tour of the place. Though, he'd done his best to make sure it was apparent to everyone involved that he was bored out of his mind. Erin had decided to ignore that – and him.

He finally seemed to get his shorts out of a knot when they'd gone and feed him lunch after looking at the place. She thought it was mostly because the neighborhood had been overly populated by Austrians and they'd ended up eating at an Austrian café – and he could get sausage, which seemed to on Ethan's list of all-time favorites. Though, he'd been a little upset that they just got a sampler platter to share. She thought it was too fucking hot to be eating that much and Jay hadn't seemed that hungry in the humidity either, though, he did put back a beer with their 'meal'. But Ethan had mostly used the time to give Jay some sort of ancestral history of the family. He clearly listened to it – or cared about it – more than Erin did. Because she thought that knowing Hank's side of the family had Austrian roots and Camille's side of the family had Italian roots was more than enough. Ethan apparently had absorbed a lot more than that. He was listing off towns (or maybe cities, Erin clearly needed to brush up on some of her European geography) and telling stories that she'd never heard before.

Maybe Hank and Eth were getting too much alone time together for him to know all that. Maybe Justin was right – that Eth preached what Hank told him like it was gospel. She thought it was more Eth thrived on memorization of crap. Dates and locations on maps – that was something he was good at. The families migration from Europe to Chicago likely wasn't that different than his ability to pinpoint on long-ago dated maps which dinosaurs had lived where. Likely two relatively useless skills that contributed to Eth seeming as weird as Max but at least it indicated something was clicking in that mind of his.

Max was texting him during their lunch break too. That was annoying and got Ethan going. The kid's family was down in Florida and Max was sending him pictures from some Jurassic Park gift shop. It'd been pretty clear that E was promising Max rather significant proportions of his allowance and savings to bring back a rather significant haul from the gift shop.

"You know if he actually does bring any of that stuff back for you, you're going to have to pay him," Erin had put to him bluntly.

Eth glanced at her and shrugged. "It's cool stuff," he provided.

"Is he telling you how much any of it is?" He shrugged at her question. "Then maybe you shouldn't be asking him to get it for you. Or just pick out one thing – not tell him to buy out the store."

Eth gazed at her. He was seriously unimpressed. "Or maybe Dad could take me on a real vacation rather and I could pick something myself," he mouthed off. "Then I'd know what I'm getting and how much it is."

Erin had made an amused noise at him. "You're living on another planet –"

"Universe," Jay had interjected flatly, clearly seeing where she was going with her statement.

"—If you think your dad is ever going to take you to Disneyland."

"Disneyland is in California. They're in Florida," Ethan mouthed off at her, going back to his phone. "And they aren't even at Disney _World._ They're at Universal Studios."

Erin went back to nursing her water – when she really could've used a drink at that point. "Don't count on ever getting there either."

He gave her a brief upward glare. "Dad took you and Justin on a real vacation," he put bluntly. "It's no fair."

She nearly choked on her water at that. Hank and Camille had taken her on vacation once. She wasn't sure she'd call it vacation.

When Hank had said he'd get her out of the life she was living – he'd really gotten her out. He'd barely dragged her home before they were packing up the car for a fucking fifteen hour drive to Myrtle Beach. Talk about an introduction by fire. You learn a lot about a family when you're stuck in a car with them for that long. They'd driven straight through. There'd barely been bathroom stops – beyond filling up the gas tank – offered.

Erin was pretty sure it was a pre-planned trip. Camille had had some sort of fish thing that she'd done for a few days when they first got there and then they'd spent the rest of the time there in some sort of time share that she'd set up with some work colleague. The whole thing had sort of blown Erin's mind at the time. Not that she'd felt particularly welcome on the vacation. Justin – all of eight years old – had asked repeatedly why she was coming on holiday with them. And Erin was pretty sure Camille was thinking the exact same thing. That – and feeling like Hank was setting them up for some sort of child abduction and taking her across state lines sort of thing. Not that Erin thought Bunny had actually noticed she was gone for those first couple weeks.

Erin wasn't sure how purposely Hank had planned when and how he was going to pull her out. Though, knowing Hank, he'd likely known exactly what he was doing well in advance. And maybe getting her out of the city – out of the state – right then was the best thing. It gave some time for the dust to settle – and for her to dry out a bit from the lifestyle she'd been existing in – before showing their faces again in Chicago.

Erin didn't remember a whole lot about the trip. She was dealing with her own issues. She did know being in a moving vehicle while you're still overcoming withdrawals isn't an ideal location. She remembered their being a lot of tension and awkwardness. And she remembered being completely in awe of the ocean and thinking the timeshare was a bit of a mansion. A residence of the rich. Though, reflecting on it now, she was pretty sure her condo these days was likely nicer.

But even though it'd been a vacation – she definitely wouldn't have called it a holiday. Not for her at least. And she didn't think for the rest of the family either. Or at least not Hank and Camille. They'd likely tried to shield Justin from it as best they could, though, he'd definitely been aware that their family life was being quaked and had a lot of questions. She remembered him sitting on the couch and staring at her when she was wishing she was back in Chicago. So she could second-guess her decision that this was what she wanted. So she could run back to her friends. So she could go find a fix and fall back into her ways that Hank had been working with her for nearly a year before he brought her home to draw her away from. But old habits die hard. Still, it'd been hard to find many banana peels to slip on when you were locked into family time at Myrtle Beach.

It was funny that that timeshare at Myrtle Beach cropped up again when I.A. was busy casting Hank was a dirty cop. That suddenly it wasn't some timeshare from long ago – one that didn't even belong to the Voights, one that they'd simply rented out days from some friend of Camille's – was something that Hank allegedly own. Sometimes she wondered where I.A. got their intel, because they clearly didn't look that closely at how the Voights lived their lives. She didn't question the fact that Hank had some side income – that he had collected street taxes – but she also knew that none of that money ended up in his coffers. Not in his family's either. It'd gone towards helping kids – helping families – get out of the nasty situations they were in. They had to deserve it. He had to know in his gut they were worth it. Apparently she was on that list. In a different way than most – but she knew he wasn't the only one he'd helped.

About as close that they'd ever get to Hank as pocketing that money for himself was cash he'd handed to her over in the form of a meal, some shoes without holes in the soles, a proper winter jacket, a bag of groceries to get her and Teddy through the week without growling stomachs, and the occasional C-note to get the fucking water turned back on in the latest squat. They'd have to pin it on those couple years of him grooming her and earning her trust and making her believe she could get out. That she was ready to get out. That she deserved to get out. That there were bigger and better things in life and that wanting that didn't mean there was something wrong with her. That she could get it. And he'd helped her get it.

But there'd never been another trip to Myrtle Beach after that first one. Those first few weeks with the Voights. She only knew from comments from Justin that there'd been previous trips. That it was clear that Camille had purposely strived to get those placements or conferences out on the Atlantic Coast in the summer so it could be masked as a family vacation – an affordable one. But that family that really did scrimp by a lot of the time, couldn't afford it anymore after she was on the scene. That was just as clear. It'd never been directly said, but she was pretty sure that part of the problem was them suddenly becoming a house with two children. One high school aged, and Hank committed to keeping her away from her banana peels, had insisted on private school. Even as a bursary kid – St. Ignatius wasn't exactly cheap. It would've been a burden on the family. It would've been more scrimping and budgeting and saving. And that had meant that a "big" holiday away hadn't been possible anymore. It'd shifted to camping and borrowing a cabin from friends in Lake Geneva. Just like she knew that Hank and Camille had likely planned to start Justin at St. Ignatius in middle school but that hadn't happened either – also likely because of her and the expense of including her in their family. Of helping her and getting her an education and doing their best to keep her away from banana peels. So he hadn't started there until high school.

She knew the loss of the bigger vacations – the holidays – was something that Justin had held against her. He seemed acutely aware of it. He remembered that the summer she came home was the last summer they went away anywhere. And he'd expressed as much to her over the years. And apparently he'd expressed as much to Eth. Who now felt that he was missing out on something. That her and Justin had gotten to go farther afield and he hadn't. Knowing Hank, he likely never would, not until he was old enough to organize, pay for, and go on his own. Or with some buddies. But that was a scary thought too.

Ethan away on Spring Break? In high school? In college? Driving? It was hard to think about him charging toward adulthood when in so many ways she still remembered him as a baby. It was hard to believe that thirteen years had gone by since Ethan was born. That sixteen had gone by since she'd become a part of the family. That more like eighteen had gone by since Hank was a part of her life. It was funny because she remembered feeling so grown up back then but she'd come to realize more and more who much of a little girl she actually was. Eth's age. Younger now.

She thought it made her a little more forgiving of his attitude, though. He wanted to be grown-up and independent. He was trying. He was pushing and fighting for it. But he was still a boy. Not little, not a baby. But he was still just a boy. And she was allowed to see him that way. And she knew that thirteen, sixteen, eighteen years down the line – he'd likely look back and realize how little he actually was too. Maybe he'd look at Henry and remember. Or maybe he'd look at her and Jay's baby and remember.

And he'd wonder where the time went too. How quickly it'd all passed.

So she just let him live in his fantasy world that maybe some day, some where, some how, Hank would take him on a family vacation to Disney World to see Jurassic Park. It was laughable in so many ways but it did make her involuntarily smile and it did remind her that despite the attitude he was showing, he was still just a kid.

That realization made it a bit easier to get through the rest of the afternoon with him as they browsed some of the shops around Roscoe. They'd gone into a guitar shop and she'd watch Jay patiently – almost Hank patiently – sit with Eth and his tremoring fingers to show him some chords until he was strumming out the beginning of Sweet Home Alabama. She'd seen Eth's interest in Jay's guitar in his apartment previously. She'd watch Jay show him how to hold it and teach him some basic chords. She'd seen Jay play. But there was something different that day watching him tutor her little brother. Seeing it, knowing that he was annoyed and frustrated with the babysitting duties, that he didn't like some of the tone and attitude that Eth was projecting at them, but that he was still sitting there with him so patiently to get those fingers in place on a guitar that would likely cost either of them a full pay check, if Eth managed to break or scratch it. But Jay hadn't let him do that. He'd been just as patient with him as he was when he worked through math home with him – his seemingly assigned topic in homework help.

They'd been in a music shop after that and Eth had finally let some of his guard down. He finally started actually talking to them like they weren't retards, as he excitedly looked through the vinyl with them, wandering around on his own accord, and not whining at them about taking too long.

But it'd been after that store that it'd happened. That small moment that she'd been thinking about ever sense.

They'd been walking down the block. Strolling, really. Jay had draped his arm around her shoulder. It was almost too hot and sticky for that – but at the same time, she liked the touch. She almost needed to feel that closeness with him. To avoid having to look at their PDA, Eth seemed to be walking a little ahead of them. But he'd stopped in front of some window – gazing inside and he'd gazed at her excitedly as they caught up. And his hand at caught hers – gripped at it like a little boy's while he euphuistically asked if they could go look inside the hobby shop. She'd given her affirmative and his fingers had still remained momentarily hooked with hers, extending her arm until the connection naturally broke with their distance as he hurried in the door – holding it for them.

She knew he likely didn't even know he did it. That it wasn't uncommon for him to touch her or seek out affection from her. But it'd been a long time since he'd held her hand in public. And it'd sent her mind reeling back to that really little boy. To the way Eth would clutch at his mom's hands on walks. To how Camille would just hold out her hand and Eth would hurriedly attach himself to it and not let go. How she'd swing his hand in hers as they walked down the street. Just this feeling of how Ethan was so utterly Camille's little boy. Her sweet, cute, gorgeous little boy. And now it was her – it was Erin – that he was holding hands with. Now. Still.

It was a lot of responsibility. But it was something Camille had left for her. She got to be the woman in Ethan's life now. The example. The grown-up. The role model. The expectation for him about what a woman should be like. The example of how he should treat a woman and how a woman should treat him. About how to be a gentleman and a man and a tough guy and just to still be allowed to be that little boy. And she realized she had been doing that. She had. As much as Eth was her brother. As much as he annoyed her and she fought with him and they bickered – she also loved him and guided him and had done her best to ensure he didn't lose out on having a caregiver in his life. She made sure he had more than his dad. That there wasn't just Voight testosterone influencing his upbringing.

She didn't want to say she'd been being his mom – because she'd always maintain that he had a mom. Camille was his mom. Not just his mom. She was his mommy. A title that Erin would never have, no matter if she was his mother figure or mothered him. It was different. She was his big sister. But she hoped that she'd made Camille proud. That she was at least partially living up to the incredibly high standards Camille had set about giving and caring and sacrifice – for family. And even though it was hard to tell – hard to believe without having words of affirmation, that she likely wouldn't believe anyways – she thought she had. That she was trying. That Camille would think she was doing right by Ethan. And some how that realization made her think for all the work and effort and sacrifice that was involved – as much as she loved the title of "big sister" – that maybe she'd sort of like the recognition of "mommy". That maybe someday she'd like to have earned that title with someone.

And as scary as it was – that maybe that someday could be now. Because maybe if it involved a little person grabbing her hand without thinking and clutching at it happily and swinging her arm as they walked – maybe it wasn't so scary. Maybe it was actually something really nice. Something to really aspire to.

They hadn't been in the hobby store long before Ethan had shown some maturity and discretely told her that he needed to stop. He needed to lay down. He'd had enough. He usually tried to push and push himself until he did harm – but he hadn't. And she was proud of him for that.

She'd settled on her condo since the A/C was way fucking better than Hank's window units that could only cool down a house that old so much and that pretty much made the house sound like it was about to take flight in its lackluster cooling process. She just didn't want to spend the afternoon – or more – sitting in that heat and noise. Instead she'd just texted Hank that he could pick up Ethan at her place. So far no response.

Eth had flopped on her couch as soon as they got in the door. They'd watched some shitty '80s sci-fi movie. The Running Man. Jay was always picking these crappy movies from the '80s to show Ethan. Ethan ate it up – and loved giving a commentary about the age of the films and their age.

"Movies were so bad when you were a kid," he informed her. "They're so old and sooo cheesy."

"Then don't watch them," Erin at muttered.

"They're classic. We're educating him," Jay had provided.

Erin had rolled her eyes. Jay had way more '80s nostalgia than she did. But she supposed he was a couple years older than her and likely had more access to television growing up than her to be attached to any of these shitty flicks. They'd already had to endure Ferris Bueller's Day Off because it was some anniversary that summer. It wasn't on her list of necessitated viewing – which Jay alleged made her a bad Chicagoan. She disagreed. Eth also was either too little or too modern to get the movie. About the most he'd taken away from it was, "Chicago looks different now." Yeah. No fucking kidding. Thirty years of urban development and gentrification does that to a place.

"You guys are old," Ethan said in his commentary on the Running Man and Jay's Googling yielding that "Hey, Schwarzenegger would've been around our age when he filmed this." Lovely.

"Ethan, I was like one when this movie was made. Half these movies Jay is 'educating' you with I've never seen before," she said.

"Old," was all Eth had provided to that.

But '80s sci-fi and action movies weren't anywhere on her list of must see. The John Hughes flicks were tolerable – these were a snore. It had literally pretty much put Erin to sleep. So actually her and Eth had both ended up drowsing on the sofa. He'd eventually startled awake and asked to lay down in her bed with a cold pack. He thought the humidity was giving him a bad headache but Erin had sort of feared that the heat was causing a bit of a flare and aggravating his optic neurosis, which seemed to be accompanied by a lot of headache and migraine-like symptoms.

Still, by the time she'd retrieved a cold pack for him and wrapped it in a dishtowel to take into the bedroom, he'd put himself to bed and drifted out again. He'd barely stirred when she molded the pack to his head, took his temperature to make sure they weren't dealing with something more just yet, and wrapped a blanket up around him because despite the heat and humidity outside, having sat in the air conditioning for a while now, his skin was prickled with goose flesh and his hands felt like ice blocks.

But still after all that Jay only glanced at her again with her comment about the day having tired him out. "Yea, good day," he muttered, his eyes shifting back to the phone.

She ran her fingers down the short hair on the back of his neck, smoothing out some of the stray pieces just behind his ears. He cast her another little look – this one actually meeting her eyes – and allowed a small smile.

"Sorry we haven't really gotten to talk yet," she said with sincerity.

She did feel bad about it. She knew they needed to. She knew that they had several hard conversations ahead, which was usually something she preferred to avoid. But these conversations were kind of unavoidable.

He just shrugged at her, though – a 'what can you do?'. "Any word from Voight yet?" he asked. She shook her head. He made a slightly annoyed noise. "You think he's sitting at the house?"

"I doubt it," she allowed.

Jay nodded. "Then one of us should likely go over soon and check on the dog."

"He's probably locked in the basement," Erin said.

"Still. Top up his water. Let him out to take a piss and a shit," he said.

She gave him a thin smile at that and tugged a bit more at the short hair on the back of his head. She knew he liked that. He liked her scraping her nails there too – massaging his scalp. So she did that a bit as well and he lulled head more into her hand.

"You Googling what I think you're Googling," she put to him and he turned his head slightly toward her giving a little shrug. She allowed him a smile again. "What'd you find out."

He made a little sound and reached to lift up the ultrasound photo so she could see it. His finger pointed at the genital nub. "Does that look like it's on a thirty degree angle compared to the spine?"

She squinted at it and shrugged. "I don't know. What's thirty degrees look like?"

He made a little sound and gave her a look. "I think it looks like its at least thirty degrees," he said flatly.

"Sounds like you need a protractor," she teased. "You're in luck. Ethan likely has one in his geometry set. When you go to let out the dog."

He gave her an optimistic look. Almost too optimistic – like he might bolt for the house right then. But he then looked back to his phone. "I've been trying to find like a protractor app. There should be an app for that."

"Do measure the angle of a genital nub?" she cocked her eyebrow.

He gave her a coy smile. "I was thinking more to calculate angles of objects in photographs. But you could be onto something. There should be an app for that too. A whole niche market."

She let the smile tug a bit more at the corners of her mouth. "Should get Eth on that for his coding camp next month."

Jay nodded seriously. "Could be a gold mine there."

She grinned and massaged more at his scalp. "So what does thirty degrees mean?" she asked.

His eyes set on her – a steady gaze. She could tell she was being measured. "Really want to know?" he asked.

She nodded. "I do," she said.

He watched her for a moment longer but she could see some happiness at her agreement – her interest – playing across his face.

"Well," he said and lifted the photo again, "I guess if it's a boy, the fetus starts producing testosterone at about seven weeks. And then by about eleven weeks you can start to see the affect it's having on the genital development. And the way you start to see it early in the pregnancy is the angle of the genital nub compared to the spine. So you can kinda place your bets based on that."

She gazed at the ultrasound printout. "So thirty degrees is a boy?"

Jay nodded. "Yea, thirty degrees is a boy."

She stared at the picture and the genital area and the spine and then her eyes set on the little head – that clearly human head. That part of it that made it so much a baby that was growing in her – their baby.

A boy? Just what she needed in her life. Another boy. Like the Voight family needed another little boy running around? More testosterone. Like she needed to be outnumbered more. Like the Halstead brothers needed to add more testosterone to their clan.

But a boy? A little tiny person who puts you at the centre of their world and comes clamoring for your hand and for cuddles from mommy?

"I don't know what thirty degrees looks like," she muttered.

"I'm pretty sure that's at least thirty degrees," Jay affirmed again with some firmness. He was clearly convinced.

She smiled a little at that and rested her chin against his shoulder to look at the picture. "I thought you didn't think you wanted a boy," she said quietly.

He craned his neck to look at her. "I want a healthy baby," he said firmly.

She smiled a little more at his firmness – his absolute sincerity and earnest. His stoicness and commitment in all of this. His unwavering stance – from the beginning. And she leaned in slightly and placed her lips briefly against his. It was tender. His lips didn't part for her. They seemed nearly surprised that hers had pressed against his.

"What was that for?" He asked and she sat back from him slightly.

She gave him a thin smile. "Because I love you," she allowed. She watched his eyes do that examination of his again, darting around as he tried to measure her. She let herself settle a bit more and returned her fingers to trailing through his hair. "What'd you think of that house today?"

Jay shrugged, going back to his app search. "I think you give Al a lot of shit about having lived in a garage to want to live in a garage," he said flatly.

She let out an amused noise and smiled more broadly at him. "It's a house," she said. "A coach house, Jay. How much more real Chicago can you get than that?"

He let out an amused noise and brought his eyes back to her. "Won't argue that," he allowed.

She looked at him. His softness over his toughness. The tender, wounded heart that he wore on his sleeve. The slightly damaged vet that barely hid the more severely damaged little boy. But this kind, strong, willful, moral man – who knew and understood his code. Who lived by his guidelines. Who had things – people – that were important to him. And she was on that list. This baby growing inside her was too – already.

She gave him a thin smile. She felt a little teary but she knew this wasn't something she should cry about. So she leaned in again and briefly captured his lips. He gave her another look between confusion and concern as she backed away.

"I think you'll be a great daddy," she told him quietly.

"And I think you'll be a great mom," he told her much more firmly – assuredly – than she'd managed.

But she still allowed it to let her smile a little bit more – and she gripped onto the back of his neck a bit tighter. "Then I think we should likely call that realtor, because we're going to need a little more space."


	131. Smokes

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 114 - HANDING HOLDING**

Hank turned around as he heard a small creak in the dining room, just in time to see Erin lurking in the hallway – in her skivvies with one of Eth's baseball bats raised.

"Took sixteen years but you're getting pretty good at sneaking around in here," he rasped at her, an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth and jumbling his words more than usual. He was standing in the darkened kitchen, using only the light in the window from the security floodlight he'd set off on his way in the backdoor, to fix himself a drink.

She started a bit and sighed heavily at him – letting the baseball bat come down from its raised position. "Hank –" she near spat.

"You planning to come after me with a bat in your underwear? That should be a good show for the neighbors," he said.

She huffed at him and stepped forward, flicking on the light in the kitchen. He briefly squinted against it. All that driving in the dark – he still had a bit of highway hypnosis going on. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw that Halstead had felt the need to come downstairs too – was down the hall, just having gotten down the stairs. Apparently Erin could move faster than he could. But he at least had the good sense to pull on some pants before coming at a would-be attacker.

"What are you doing?" Erin demanded.

He gave her a look and turned back to his whiskey. "Pouring a drink," he provided.

"What are you doing here?" she pressed at him instead.

"It's my house," he told her, turning back around and leaning against the counter. Halstead had joined her in the doorway – giving him a bit of a stare down. Matched that nagging wife look that his daughter was pulling real well – arms crossed over her chest all self-righteous. That was Erin, though.

"You told us you wouldn't be back until Sunday," she said.

He shrugged. "It's Sunday."

"Hank," she spat. "It's four a.m."

Four a.m. and he wasn't the only one still up in the house. Could tell that he hadn't woken them. He might've set off the security lights but he'd been quiet coming in – getting his drink. Suspected that the two of them were already awake when they'd seen the light come on or heard any creaks in the floorboards in the kitchen. Erin wasn't exactly sporting bedhead. And the flushing in her cheeks didn't look like it had much to do with the humidity that he could feel in the house. Not when the flushing wasn't just in Halstead's face. It was in his bare chest too. The two of them pretty much reeked of sex. He fucking wished they'd cut that shit out in his house.

"Mmm …," he acknowledged and pulled the cigarette out of his mouth to take a drink from his glass.

"And you're smoking?" Erin gaped at him even more. "What the hell is going on?"

He examined the cigarette in his fingers. Felt surprisingly good there. Maybe too good. Erin could likely use one two based on the looks of her. These fucking kids.

Hank, though, hadn't really decided if he was going to light it. That'd been the original intention but he was starting to think maybe just having it hang out of his mouth was enough. That hadn't felt too bad either and he hadn't wanted to stink up his take-home vehicle anyway with the second-hand smoke. Thought he'd save it for the back porch – but he'd also thought that Erin would've had Magoo over at her condo. Sleep in some real A/C that night. But apparently they'd decided otherwise. Would be interested to hear what that logic. Likely was somewhere between E not wanting to sleep on the couch and Erin and Halstead being too attached at the hip (and too fucking horny) to give up the master bedroom for the night. Fucking stupid.

The humidity was still hanging in the air at that time of night … morning. He probably would've been dragging E over to her place anyway last night to get him out of the heat. Avoid a fucking flare up. The house sure as fuck didn't feel like the window units were even putting a dent in the moist, still heat – at least from the kitchen. Hadn't ventured any farther yet.

"Mmm …," he allowed. "Was thinking about it."

Her mouth hung at him. Her eyes getting angrier and more accusing. Those arms just crossed fucking tighter as Halstead stared at him. Guy looked out of place. Like he was trying to figure out his place in that moment. Likely wished he hadn't come down.

"I thought we'd all promised Camille that Eth was going to grow up never seeing any of us smoke," she said with that self-righteousness again. There was his girl. Piss and vinegar. Always. Apparently she wasn't ever going to grow out of that. But that was OK.

He gave her a smack at the reference but it almost made him smile. Turned up those thin lips briefly. She didn't much like seeing that. She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Mmm …," he allowed and examined the cigarette in his hand.

Funny how it'd taken Magoo to finally get him to kick the habit. Managed it cold turkey. Best way to go about things, in his opinion. But it'd taken Camille really ripping into him. She'd never much liked him smoking. Never. At him about it when they were kids. At him about it when even when she was in college and taking tokes on smokes and more of her own. At him about it even more in their marriage.

You'd think that would've been enough to get him to quit. Happy wife, happy life after all. More than that, fucking had an impact on their sex life. Sometimes she'd get so fucking uppity about the taste or the smell. Refuse to kiss him or be near him if she could smell it or taste it on him. Send him to the bathroom and the mouthwash and shower before she'd even consider letting him near her. She was real piss and vinegar too. Always had been too. Kinda liked that. In both his girls.

But being a cop, working undercover, running with the kind of people he did, networking over at the social club – it was just part of the lifestyle. Really needed to have something in his hands and at his mouth, if he didn't want people shoving more at him. A fucking cig wouldn't dim his senses like a lot of the other shit he got exposed too – even the alcohol.

Shit changed after they found out Cami was pregnant, though. She'd really drilled into him then. That she'd put up with the job and the danger it put him in – the line of fire, the possibility of retaliation. She understood that sacrifice. But smoking was a choice. A fucking health choice. That he was in his forties. That this kid wouldn't even be graduating high school until they were in their sixties. That she wasn't going to tolerate smoking – and all the health problems it opened him up to – be a reason that he wasn't around. That she'd had enough. That he was quitting.

It wasn't a choice. He was told. And she was right. He sure as fuck didn't want to miss their little miracle baby growing up. Wouldn't give that up for a fucking cigarette. So he'd given them up.

Whole house got sat down actually. Camille had called a fucking "family meeting", - hadn't ever done that before – and told all of them that there'd be no more smoking tolerated in that house. Not just that she wouldn't see a lit cigarette in the house or in the yard. That she wouldn't fit a stray pack in a pocket or backpack. That she wouldn't allow any of them coming in smelling of it. No second-hand smoke clinging to their clothes or hair. That Ethan wouldn't grow up seeing any of them near cigarettes. That she wouldn't be exposing herself while she was pregnant to it – and that that little newborn baby and growing boy wouldn't be inhaling any of its remnants either.

Had really laid down the law. And Hank supposed it'd been forceful enough that everyone had listened. He'd just gone cold turkey. Erin had a couple blips during the pregnancy. Didn't smoke around the house but could smell it on her when she got home. But she'd had to give up a lot of vices in her rehab and acclimatization to the family life. He'd give her clinging on to her smokes as a final stronghold to keep her from tumbling back into her old ways. He'd had to be a bit of a bad ass about it all with her. The disciplinarian. Help her kick that habit too. But she had. Wasn't a smoker anymore by the time Eth arrived.

J was likely too young to have taken anything more than a puff or two yet. Or at least he hadn't been caught with a pack in hand. Wasn't hanging around with the riff-raff yet at that point. Was still all into his sports. That'd faded a bit after E arrived. Less attention. Shared attention. Going looking for attention in other places – wrong places – as he entered in his teens. So Hank didn't doubt that he'd gone through his share of cartons over the years. But J had never said anything.

There were a lot of things J never fucking said to him though. A whole lot of secrets. He knew all his kids had secrets. Or thought they did. Hank didn't so much think that they truly managed to pull the wool over his eyes as much as he'd erred in taking his eyes off them sometimes. Since Camille was gone and they didn't have that extra set of grown-up eyes on them. Since he had other things to focus on. Since he was grieving. Since he had a city to protect.

So he'd fucked up.

But as many mistakes he'd made with his kids. Eth and Erin still talked to him. They still came to him when they fucked up. When they needed help. When they disagreed with him and wanted to pick a fight or challenge his opinion – push their fucking boundaries as kids. As parent and children. J didn't. And that just made him feel like he fucked up even more. J would keep charging down that path rather than admit he needed help. Rather than asking for advice. The only thing J asked for was money or a bail out. All at the most inappropriate times. When it was usually already too late for him to really help him.

Hank didn't understand what he'd done there. He liked to think he'd raised his kids the same way. He treated them different. He treated them all as individuals. But – he liked to think – he'd disciplined them in a similar way, he'd supported them in a similar way, that he was there for each of them in the same way. That he'd done the best he could as a father with each of them – for the person they were and for the circumstances they were in.

He fucking acknowledged that he'd been different for the three of them. That J got to be an only child and have a mom and a dad. That he was a boy and had been his oldest son. That Erin came to them as a teen – an older child. A foster child, an adoption, a guardianship, a ward. However the fuck you wanted to look at it. But she was a kid with baggage that'd come into their home. A kid who didn't know a family. A kid who had a whole lot of emotional and mental and physical baggage and abuse they needed to unpack and redirect and fucking deal with. Been a whole new world for her. And she was a girl. As much as you raise them the same – girls are different. So fucking different.

And then there was Magoo. The baby. Later in life. After they'd already had more than a decade of experience parenting. A bit of a miracle child. The unexpected child. A kid with two older siblings – a brother and a sister – to look out for him and to beat him up and to be fucking annoyed by him. And he'd started out with a mom and a dad. He got that foundation but Hank was acutely aware that the majority of his childhood – two fucking thirds of it – was being spent as a child in a single parent home. And missing his mother. Kids needed their mothers. And even though he had siblings – they weren't exactly at home to play with him anymore. A bit of an only child in a way too. A fucking damaged little boy.

They were all different. Different people. Different kids. Very different childhoods. But he'd tried his best to be there for them. To be a father. To be someone they could talk to and come to.

So he didn't know where he'd gone wrong with his relationship with J. What exactly had driven the wedge. He could point at a whole lot of things. The changing family dynamics. The loss of his mom. Just fathers and sons. Maybe he'd been an only child too long and they'd coddled him a little too much for a little too long. But he just didn't know.

Hank couldn't figure it out when he knew he'd gotten closer to his mom when his dad died. When he knew he'd seemed to keep a relationship with his other two kids – even though sometimes they didn't like him very much. Even though he'd screwed up with both of them too.

But J? It was different.

Maybe he was just trying to be a man. He'd always been trying to be a man and that tough guy. Like he needed to prove that. But real men fucking knew when they'd made mistakes. They could admit it. And they knew when they needed help too. And knew to ask before things just fucking blew up in their face.

Hank could feel it. They were moving towards an explosion. There was unrest. J wasn't admitting it. But Olive's body language – her reaching out – that said enough. More than enough. Something was up and he was still waiting to see where the chips would fall. Still proding his son to see if he'd come to him – talk to him. But J just kept telling him he didn't like being interrogated. That he wasn't a little kid. To not bust his balls. That he could take care of his own business. Hank wasn't sure he believed him. His son hadn't proved that to him yet. He could just hope that he got his boy and daughter-in-law and little man moved back into the city – where he could keep an eye on it, where he could handle it – before whatever J was charging toward went to shit. And Hank suspected that shit was going to be him managing caring for his daughter-in-law and grandson while his son worked at making himself even more estranged from the family.

He wanted to think he could raise good men. That he set a good example. That he showed his children what a husband and a father – and a man – was. A real man. But there were real moments he just felt like he'd failed. There was a real fear in him that his son was going to fuck up this marriage. That he already was. And that this woman – the mother of his child – was going to be left out alone. But Hank wouldn't have that. She was the mother of his grandson. And Henry was going to have as good, as comfortable, as stable of life as he could manage – whether J was going to be accountable for that or not. Hank would see to that.

And he'd try to again to convince his son about responsibilities. About what being a husband and being a father meant. That maybe he'd still learn. Maybe things were still salvageable. Because Olive was a nice girl. A good woman. And she was trying real hard. But he could tell – she was struggling.

"E hasn't actually seen me with it," he said of the cigarette.

"Hank," Erin near barked at him.

He gave her a little smile at that. She had the nagging down pat. So down pat. She'd be a better wife and better mother than she likely imagined. He hoped he'd taught her better. That it'd set in with her. That maybe he'd been a better example in a different way to her. He didn't know. But he had to hope.

She glared at his amusement, though. So he held out the cigarette at her. He wasn't actually going to smoke it now anyway. She stepped forward and snatched it from him, still giving him that look of hers.

"Where's the rest?" she demanded.

He allowed a small amused sound and reached to pull the pack out of his pocket. He handed it to her too. She immediately looked inside. Apparently she needed to confirm for herself that he hadn't smoked any yet. But he hadn't. Only one that had been removed from the pack was the one he'd handed her. The one he had dangling from his mouth.

She eyed him without comment but he just reached to retrieve his drink from the counter and started to move out of the kitchen.

"What is going on with you?" she asked his back with some concerned anger.

"Need some rack time," he muttered.

"Hank …" she sighed.

He turned and gave her a shrug and then cast Halstead a look and dropped the Escalade's keys on the counter as he was about to exit. "There's some boxes in the Escalade," he said. "How 'bout you two bring them in and I pretend I don't know you've been screwing around in my house again."

Halstead briefly met his eyes before casting Erin a look. Hank didn't need to turn around to know those arms had crossed over her chest again in an angry gape.

"Boxes?" she demanded. "Do I even want to ask what's in them?"

Hank shrugged and kept making his way through the dining room. "Some of your brother's and Olive's stuff."

"Justin and Olive's?" Erin gaped even more. "Why is that in your car?"

"Hmm …," Hank grunted. "Went for a drive."

"To Fort Campbell?" Erin called after him.

He looked back down the hall and put his fingers to his lips, pointing up the stairs to where he hoped his youngest was sleeping through this nonsense. "Put them in the basement," he muttered and started to mount the stairs.

One step at the time. Even with the most pristine planning, you always had to take shit one step at a time.


	132. Jagoff

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 118 - SMOKES**

Ethan stirred a bit, no doubt it was because even in his sleep he could feel he was under scrutiny. His eyelids fluttered and then he squinted through the dim light that was coming in through his open blinds from the street lamp.

"Dad?" he asked sleepily, rubbing at his face.

Hank gave him a thin smile and leaned forward from where he was sitting on the edge of his boy's bed, cupping at his ear, rubbing his finger down it.

"Yea, just me," he assured.

E rubbed his face against the pillow tiredly. "Erin said you wouldn't be home tonight," he muttered.

"Mmm," Hank grunted, massaging down his boy's ear. Same move he'd used cradling him as just a baby to help lull him back to sleep. Still worked now, he'd learned after spending hours and hours with him in the hospital and hours and hours more with his little boy up and in pain and struggling to self-sooth and manage it. Worked with Henry too – his other little man. Magic touch with babies, it seemed. "It's morning."

E let out an annoyed moan. "Is it time for pills already?" he groaned mutedly.

"Nah," Hank said. "You got a couple more hours." Boy made another little noise and buried his forehead into the pillow even more. So Hank reached and shook gently at his shoulder. "Move over a little."

His son made a small noise that seemed to protest but obliged – shuttling his back closer to the opposite side of the twin bunk. And, Hank leaned forward to set his empty tumbler on the nightstand and then maneuvered himself to settle on his boy's mattress. He'd barely lay down when Eth had flopped his head against his one shoulder and his hand against the other. But he smiled a little bit at the affection and pressed some of his boy's damp bangs away from his forehead. His hand resting there and cupping at his cheek. He sighed.

"You're real hot, Magoo," he muttered. E muttered something unintelligible at him. "You didn't want to sleep at Erin's? In this heat?"

"I like here better," he said.

"Her A/C's better," Hank said flatly.

"I don't like her couch. It's too hard," he mumbled.

"She's got a bed," Hank put to him.

"I don't like it either. Her and Jay do stuff there. It's grossness."

Hank made a quiet amused sound at that. Kid was on to something there. Didn't know how often his girl ever did her laundry either. Between the recurrent wardrobe she had at work and the state of her bathroom some days when he made the mistake of having to take a leak at her place. Though, Halstead was a bit of a neat freak. Hopefully he managed the change the sheets aspect of the situation.

"Always clamoring to claim my bed," Hank said.

Funny that way. Sure that as much "grossness" happened in that bed. Had the kids to prove it. But the sheets had definitely been changed since then. Sheets had actually been changed the morning before he lost Camille. Fresh sheets on the bed when he finally did get home. Some how not having the scent of her in their bed had been a new level of heartbreaking. He still remembered the way the realization had hit him when he realized all he could smell was their laundry detergent – and not his wife. As the reality that she would've changed the sheets that morning – and why – set in.

He hadn't gotten to cling to her that way. Leaving those sheets on the bed for God knows how long on her to try to still have a piece of her with him. He could still smell some of her on her pillow. If he breathed in deeply enough. Funny considering how much Cami mucked around and played with fucking fish that she smelled so fucking good all the time. Lavender. Always this faint scent of lavender about her. Kept her toiletries for a real long time after she was gone – some of her clothes too – hope to still catch a whiff of her. To still feel her there in the room with him. In that house that they'd made their family in. But shampoo and conditioner and cardigans just never smelt like the person. Material objects – not his Camille.

Eth made a noise. "Because you've got windows on both sides and its nice a like wind."

"So why you not in there now?" he asked.

"Erin said I shouldn't without asking and she said that Bear couldn't sleep in there. And you weren't answering your phone and we came back so Bear wouldn't be alone," Eth said in slow, sleepy monotone.

"Hmm …" Hank allowed.

Apparently it was too hot upstairs for even the dog at that point, though. The mutt had been flaked out in the front room. It'd actually been on the couch but had scuttled to the floor when he'd heard Hank come in. Knew he wasn't supposed to be up on the furniture. Damn mutt.

"Were you real mad at me this morning, Dad?" Ethan whispered against him.

Hank gave him a bit of a look and cupped the back of his head a bit more tightly. "I wasn't mad at you, Magoo."

"I didn't mean to be so … moody … this week," he said quietly. "I just don't like summer school."

Hank bent his head and rested his lips briefly in his son's hair. "You'll like it better than having to repeat the year," he rasped. "But that's not what me taking off was about, Ethan."

"You just left," E said weakly. "And usually we spend Saturday together, Dad. Unless you get called in or catch a crime scene. But Erin said it wasn't about work. But she wouldn't tell me what it was about."

"Hmm," Hank grunted. "I didn't tell your sister what it was about either. You kids don't need to know everything."

He did his best to keep his kids' business their own business. Didn't need any of them wading too far in each other's business either. Interjecting their opinions to him or each other. Just made thins messier more times than not. Especially these days with the kids still working on ironing out all their dynamics. Things were easier when they were littler. When you could just send one of them to their room. Take some allowance away. Give them a few extra chores. Tell them you didn't like tattlers or snitches. A lot harder when you had adults in the mix.

But Eth didn't need to get too involved in any of this. Still just a little kid. Didn't need to worry him. Get that little head of his spinning. Get him pissed off at his brother when the two of them were starting to patch things up. He'd be keeping Magoo at arm's length in all this until where the chips were landing was more apparent. That was the best course of action. And so be it if it meant that there'd be some days that he'd get the label of the bad guy or the hard ass by E and Erin in the coming months. Just was the way it was. Part of being a father. They weren't always going to like you. They didn't have to understand you either. They just needed to fucking listen. Do as they were told. Respect him.

He wasn't so sure his kids were perfect in any of those regards. But who fucking was. He'd likely have other issues with the lot of them if they always just deferred to his authority anyways. Wasn't raising pussies or pushovers.

Eth shifted and gazed up at him with those eyes of his mom's. Still got him too much when he got Cami's eyes staring at him like that.

"Did you need alone time because of Mom?" he asked carefully.

Hank gave his boy a sympathetic smile and stroked his cheek again, shaking his head. "No, Magoo," he assured.

"You were real sad and real angry last summer around when Mom died," he said shakily.

Voight allowed a little sigh. "We had a lot goin' on last summer, E. We're all in a better place this year. Not sad. Not angry. Just had to go take care of some business. Sometimes I've gotta do that. You know that."

"But not Saturdays," E almost whined. "Saturdays are our days."

"Mmm," Hank grunted. Nice to know that his kid still wanted the time with him. "Didn't have a good day with your sister?"

E let out a little sigh and settled back against him again. The kid was just a pool. Voight almost wanted to pull him out of bed and order him into the shower. Get him cooled off. He couldn't have his kid's core this hot. It was just asking for trouble. He was going to have to figure out what the fuck to do about the A/C situation if the summer was going to be like this. They kept just hitting heat wave after heat wave since the beginning of June. The weather was just fucked. Wasn't usually like this. And the humidity. Then it'd fucking drop again. Be freezing – still – in July. His temperature sensitive boy – with his disease that was so easily exasperated by temperature fluctuations and internal temperatures – couldn't keep up. But he didn't really have the cash to be dropping on getting central air put in that summer. And he heated having the fucking furnace on in the middle of summer. E still had the fucking heating blanket on his bed and had it on more times than not. Hank didn't doubt that not matter was solution he came up with, his boy would still feel cold more than he registered the hot. He actually reached for the heating blanket remote to ensure Eth didn't have it on right now – making the situation even worse. But thankfully it was off.

"It's just hard when I didn't know that was the plan …" E muttered.

Hank gripped at his shoulder. "I know you like your routine and schedule, Magoo. But life doesn't always go as planned. You need to work within that as best you can." E just made a little sound so he gripped at his son's shoulder a bit tighter. "She tire you out?" He got another little sound. "You tell her you were feeling that fatigue and you needed to rest?"

"Yea …" E allowed.

"Good man," Hank said with another squeeze.

"We went to her place and I took a nap."

"Good," he nodded.

E let out a sigh. "You're really not goin' to tell me why you had to leave my game?"

Hank put his hand in the back of his boy's hair. "Not anything you need to worry about, Magoo," he rasped.

His son let out a noise but Hank looked over to see that he'd closed his eyes again. He moved his hand back over to his boy's ear and worked at getting him to drift back off again.

"Tell you what," Hank said, "you feel up to it, and we'll spend some time together today. Go somewhere air conditioned for a few hours. Keep you cool."

E gave a little grunt. Funny when his boy made that noise. Wasn't sure he wanted it running off on him too much. So he sighed.

"E, you know you can talk to me about stuff, right?"

"I talk to you all the time," E muttered sleepily. He was almost off again.

"Mmm," Hank acknowledged. "But anything. Whatever you want."

"Yea, Dad …" his boy mumbled. He wasn't really listening anymore.

But Hank was OK with that right then. He let his eyes start to drift shut too. He just needed a few winks. Just a little shut eye to get his own head back on straight. Things were always a bit easier to deal with with just a bit of sleep. Good first step in getting anything sorted.

"And just remember, never forget – that I love you," he said giving his son's shoulder a final squeeze as he let himself settle too.

"Yea … I love you too, Dad," E mumbled near unintelligibly.

But even the unintelligible was enough. He'd take it. Because he was learning that sons seemed to stop saying it – stop believing it. He'd have to hope he showed – told – made Eth feel it more. Longer. That he'd keep saying it back. Understanding it. Even as a grown man.

Didn't want to be a jagoff about it. But some days, he really fucking needed that.


	133. Breakfast Losses

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 119 - JAGOFF**

Jay glanced over his shoulder as he heard Voight come into the kitchen.

It was about the latest he'd ever witnessed the guy get out of bed – and it was only seven-thirty in the morning after the guy hadn't arrived in until around four and apparently had spent about twelve hours of the past twenty-four on the road. Guy had already been up a while, though. Had heard him up earlier dealing with Eth's morning medication routine and had started hear movement upstairs about a half-hour ago with the guy clearly going through his morning hygiene routine. Hard to not notice when someone was up and on the go in that house – especially Voight, who seemed to insist on taking a shower the second he got out of bed.

The fucking pipes in the place shook so much it pretty much sounded like a train was rattling through the whole building. Didn't help that Erin's room was right next to the bathroom – so it was pretty hard to sleep through anything going on in there. She seemed pretty good at it – but she'd had years of practice at tuning it out. Jay knew that any time he slept over at the place, he always ended up awake shortly after Voight because there was no way he slept through that noise. And, Voight seemed to refuse to leave the upper floor of the house without having shower, shaved and dressed – even on the weekends.

Hadn't much mattered that morning. Jay hadn't really gotten back to sleep after the man's 4 a.m. arrival. He'd been up for a while by the time Voight was in the shower – and so had everyone else. But he figured that him and Erin would be leaving pretty soon now that the guy had appeared. Since he'd actually come home. So they could get out of there and salvage a bit of their days off. Maybe finally get to talk a little bit about everything that was going on – in private.

Voight virtually ignored him – and his efforts at cutting up some fruit for the bit of a cold spread he had on the go - as he came into the kitchen. Went immediately over to the window and pulled it open. Had already heard him opening the other windows in the house and the incessant rattling of the A/C units fans had finally calmed upstairs too.

"Where's Erin and E?" Voight finally put to him, as he walked passed him again, to the breezeway to pull open the back door and drop down the screen there too.

"She took him and the dog for a walk," Jay allowed. "Get some bagels. It's cooler out there than in here."

Voight just grunted some acknowledgement. "Need to figure out what to do with those A/Cs," he graveled. "Don't work worth shit."

"Older machines and older house," Jay said flatly.

He actually kind of thought it was bullshit that Voight had got used A/C units. But truth was with a house that old, unless he completely redid the insulation and re-sealed the whole place, it likely wouldn't really matter how state of the art the technology was – they weren't going to keep the place cool. Kind of sucked for everyone, though. Especially Eth with all the lectures they were getting from the doctors about keeping the kid cool that summer.

Voight just grunted again, though, and shook his head. "Tremoring real bad when I was up with him for his meds. He calmed any when Erin took him out?"

Jay gave a little shrug. Because what was he supposed to say. He didn't like saying too much. Not to Voight. Sometimes he expressed his concerns or frustrations to Erin – because she usually had similar ones. But saying anything to Voight just seemed like crossing a line. Questioning his boss on his parenting. And some of it was outside of the guy's control. Jay got that. But he also had a list of other things that he felt like he'd do differently. But Eth wasn't his kid. Even Erin expressed that as much as she argued with Voight on some of it, she was consistently reminded that she was the sister – not the parent. That Voight would handle it the way he felt was best. So if Erin was going to get put in that corner – Jay knew he should do his best to keep the fuck out of it. Even though sometimes that was pretty fucking hard. Ended up biting his tongue a bit to keep from rocking the boat too much.

"He was still shaking," was all he provided. Simple truth. Had seen Eth tremor worse than he was that day but it was definitely noticeable. But it'd been pretty fucking hot yesterday and sleeping in that sauna likely hadn't done anything to help it – but it was what the kid wanted. Sometimes letting him make his own decisions and mistakes was better than doing a battle of the wills with him. He was as stubborn as fuck. Maybe it would've been enough that the next time he was offered the opportunity to sleep in central air, he'd take it. Because the kid sure hadn't seemed that rested that morning either.

"Likely going to take him out for a bit," Voight muttered, leaning down the counter and staring at the tray of food that Jay had been gathering on some plates and serving boards and little dishes. Fruit, cheese, lox, tomatoes, some honey and jam. "Spend some time in A/C or the pool or beach or something." Jay just nodded and kept working at getting the melon cut. "Was just goin' take him to a flick but said you two are takin' him to one later in the week?"

Jay snorted at that and cast him a look. "Ah, no. We haven't agreed to that." Voight smacked at him. So Jay raised an eyebrow and looked at the guy more directly. "We've been requested as taxi service and chaperones – sitting several rows away – for him and Eva to see Ghostbusters."

Voight gave a sound that was between amused and annoyed and just shook his head with a slight eyeroll. Jay had a good idea where it was coming from. Could tell that Voight was getting something out of Eth having a friend and a crush. That the guy liked that. But Eth and his dad had been having all out battles about the whole Ghostbusters thing lately. Him and Eva were playing the game online together – eating up all of Eth's screentime and putting way more time into videogames than Voight approved of. Eth didn't quite see it that way – especially since he wanted to play the game and still watch the Cubs and all his other shows and have his YouTube and tablet time in the evenings too. Voight and Eth definitely weren't seeing eye-to-eye on the matter – especially now that summer school was in full gear. The Xbox had pretty much been banned and screen-time rules even more severely limited, which was just pissing Eth off more.

"We weren't sure if movies counted as screentime," Jay provided.

"Mmm," was all Voight allowed to that comment.

Jay wouldn't say it was much of a clarification. But maybe if Voight was going to take Eth to a movie, him and Erin were allowed to too. Though, Jay had been around the guy more than long enough to know that what applied to Voight didn't necessarily apply to everyone else. He had his own set of rules – about everything. His way.

Voight scrubbed at his face and then wandered down the counter to retrieve a mug and pour himself a coffee that Jay already had perking. "Might take him to that dinosaur exhibit then. Depending on how he's doing. Will likely be crowded. Fucking tourists. Summer. The pier."

Jay cast him a glance as he took his first sip. "Fair warning. That Max kid was texting him about some Jurassic Park thing his family's down at in Florida. Eth's pretty convinced he should be getting an all-inclusive paid vacation there too. Dinosaurs will likely get him going off on that again."

Voight made another unimpressed noise and shook his head, taking another sip of his coffee.

"You and Erin gonna kick 'round here today?" he asked.

"Ah …," Jay shook his head. "I doubt it. We had some things we wanted to deal with this weekend."

"Mmm …," Voight allowed again, clearly examining him at that point. But the guy just made a gesture over at him, as Jay started transferring some of the melon to the tray. Was going to cube some watermelon for Eth too. Likely toss a few grapes and maybe some strawberries on there to appease the kid too. Should likely see if Voight had kiwi to appease Erin too. Doubted it, though, since Eth's review of the things were 'they taste like and look like balls'. Jay wasn't sure how he'd come up with that assessment but he'd refrained from comment. That was usually the best course of action with Eth when he was running of his mouth. "E said you'd gone lookin' at a house yesterday."

Jay gave him a little look. "Yea …," he allowed.

Voight made a face. Clearly he was looking for more than that. "And …?"

He shrugged. "Erin liked it."

"You didn't?"

He shrugged again. "It was alright. Small."

"Mmm …," Voight grunted. "Nothin' wrong with small."

Jay gave him a longer look. Didn't really want to get into it with the guy. He knew Erin sort of wanted to include Voight in the process since he was giving them a good chunk of change to put toward the down payment. But this was just really something he didn't want Voight's opinion on. At all. Though, he got the sense that Voight's opinion at that point wasn't so much that he cared where they lived – it was just that he wanted them to fucking settle down, give him a wedding date and start talking to him about who was transferring and where they'd like to land so he could try to help them make that happen. It'd been pretty clear he was running out with patience with them on it all. Especially that week. With some of the looks Voight had been giving him that week at work, he'd thought that the guy was about ready to tell them that he'd made the decisions for them and this was how it was going down. His way.

Voight just smacked at him. "When you two are looking at the listings, do me a favor and forward me any family rentals that pop up," he said and took another sip of his coffee.

Jay eyed him for a beat longer and then shrugged and went back to his chopping. "I can let Erin know you want us to do that," he put flatly.

Because he knew what that was all about. And he knew Erin wouldn't be on-board with it at all. That one of the reasons they were even looking at places right now was because she wanted to have a place – and neighborhood – picked before Justin and Olive got back. She sure as fuck wouldn't want to be involved in helping them find a place to live. And she'd get really bent out of shape if she felt like Justin was getting a hand-out from his dad again.

Voight clearly read between the lines there. His tongue resting in his cheek as his eyes settled on him. But Voight could glare at him all he wanted. The guy was lucky that he wasn't giving him a shit ton of attitude right back. After yesterday. After last night – that morning. Jay didn't much feel like he owed the guy anything in that moment. They'd more than paid their family dues that weekend. And considering that it looked like Voight had driven to fucking Fort Campbell and dragged a load full of Justin and Olive's crap back to Chicago – it sure as fuck looked like it wasn't him and Erin who owed Voight anything that day.

Him and Erin had already spent some time whispering about whatever the fuck was going on. Hypothesizing what a fucking 12-hour roundtrip with what couldn't have been more than a three or four hour visit meant. Especially when Voight had just seen fucking Justin and Olive and the grandkid the weekend prior for the Fourth. What the fuck had happened between now and then that had the guy unannouncedly driving down there and back with boxes of crap. Not when Justin wasn't due back in Chicago until the end of August. Not when they hadn't been given any indication the past weekend that Olive and the baby planned to come back into the city sooner. Not when the last they'd heard Voight's only moving help plans had been to take some furlough in August and combine hauling some stuff back for them with a camping holiday for Eth.

Now? This? What? Who fucking knew? Jay doubted he'd say anything. Because Voight never said shit. He rarely explained himself. Though, Erin seemed pretty set on brow-beating it out of him. Jay sort of hoped that she'd just let it drop that morning, though. Because they had their own shit to deal with. Let Voight deal with his bullshit – and his son's bullshit – on his own. Wasn't there problem. Thing was – it sort of seemed like shit really ran downhill with Justin. Ended up impacting all of them. Fuck. It ended up impacting all of Intelligence too.

The guy was just a problem child. And he wasn't a fucking child anymore. You'd think he would've manned up when he lost his mom. But Jay knew from experience that wasn't how it worked for everyone. Sometimes it took people fucking years to grow up. Will was just fucking starting to get there. And his immaturity still showed on a regular enough basis too. Tuck tail and run whenever things got hard. That just might be what was going on here. Maybe the reality that Justin had just signed himself up for fucking three years of schooling and eight more years of military life was really setting in and the guy couldn't handle it after spending some time back home – back in Chicago – and realizing that it wasn't the bright, shiny promised land that he wanted. Things weren't going to be fucking easy here and he was going to be fucking expected to contribute to the family if he was back around too. There's added responsibility when the guy seemed to still be coming to terms with what any of that meant.

"You know," Voight put to him then, though, setting his coffee on the counter and crossing his arms in front of him, "when you asked about marrying Erin—"

"I didn't ask," Jay put to him bluntly. "I gave you a heads up."

Voight smacked at him and bounced his arms against his chest. "Didn't tell you how I feel about marriage," he said. Jay just glared at him at that. Voight didn't care. "I'm not stupid. Know lots of people get divorced. For a whole lot of reasons. Some more than justified. But, see, I'm old fashioned. I see that ring. That ceremony. That certificate. However you want to look at it. I see it as for life. A whole lot of hard fucking work. Marriage. But that's a commitment - a responsibility – that you take on as a man. To her. To any kids you bring into the world. Doesn't matter if shit gets hard. And shit will get hard. You're there for them until the end."

Jay just kept his eyes. "Then if that's how you feel, I guess you're lucky, that I can be pretty old fashioned too."

Voight stared at him. Clearly weighing the answer. Jay didn't much like the scrunity. And he got the sense that the monologue had more to do with whatever had gone on between him and Justin than anything him and Erin had done. And that made him like the scrunity even less. Wasn't him who needed that speech. He should give it to his own son.

Voight gestured to the try of food. "That for everyone or Erin?"

Jay glanced at it. He shrugged. "Everyone. But Erin likes your day-off breakfast and we didn't get a chance to have one yesterday."

Voight made an amused noise, letting a thin smile pull at his lips. "She got you trained real quick." Jay gave him an unimpressed look at that suggestion. But the guy only shrugged. "Happy wife, happy life …" he muttered but kept gazing at the tray. "Should take the cheese off of there," he said flatly.

Jay gave him a more annoyed look. "Ethan won't touch the cheese anyway."

Voight grunted but moved toward the fridge, pulling it open and looking inside. "It's Erin who shouldn't be touching it," he muttered and Jay squinted at him, as Voight came over and put a block of cheddar on the counter next to him. "That'll be OK. Get rid of the soft crap."

"She likes that for her bagels," Jay said dismissively.

Voight cast him eyes and shook his head, pointing at the smoked salmon. "Unless you're planning on throwing that in the eggs and those eggs are going to be cooked right through, you should take the fish off too."

Jay glared at him. "This is what we do for breakfast on our days off," Jay pressed back firmly.

"Not anymore, it's not," Voight said and moved back to here he'd left his coffee.

"I don't think you get to tell us what we get to eat," Jay said.

Voight just made a sound at that and grabbed his cup, heading back toward the porch and the still almost-cool morning air.

"My experience, Halstead, making yourself a family of your own – it's the best thing you'll do with your life. The most important thing you'll do. Most important job you'll have. And it will make you better at your day job. So don't fucking screw it up," Voight rasped at him.

"Why are you telling me that?" Jay said.

Voight just grunted, as he walked back past him and pushed open the door. "Lose the cheese, salmon and eggs," he said more firmly and disappeared outside – newspaper and coffee mug in hand.

Jay eyed his departure, his brain churning, and then clicking. He squinted at the door and reached for his pocket to retrieve his phone, keying in the foods and pregnancy. He gaped at the results and looked back at the door.

Fuck.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: The chapter before this (Jagoff) was posted less than 24 hours ago. Please make sure you didn't miss it. Feedback and reviews are appreciated.**

 **I might do one more chapter in this sequence but then I'm likely going to go back and deal with a few other things that need to be tied up.**


	134. Real Men

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 120 - BREAKFAST LOSSES.**

"Are you ready to order?" Hank heard next to him and glanced up at the young waitress standing next to his elbow, giving him a questioning look and an even more questioning look at Magoo who was still motor-mouthing about the fucking dinosaur exhibit. He hadn't shut-up since they left and Hank had pretty much resorted to burying himself in the menu and making occasional listening sounds to avoid having to absorb every word that was coming out of his kid's mouth.

E had clearly loved the exhibit. And that was a damn good thing considering the price tag. Sometimes he forgot how much some of the city had become just a fucking tourist trip in recent years. But an exhibit hosted in Festival Hall out on Navy Pier? He should've fucking known that it was going to cost him an arm and a leg. But fucking $24 bucks for a single exhibit - $36 since Eth had of course wanted to see the fucking IMAX show too? That was a little much.

Double-shocker when the fucking concession stand kid had asked how old Magoo was and without even thinking on it, he'd rasped off the truth as he dug out his wallet, only to be walloped with the reality that his 13-year-old kid was suddenly classified as an "adult" – so it'd be fucking $36 each for him. No more child discount buffering the damage in their family.

He'd briefly considered opting out of the outing. But they'd already come down, stood in line, and his boy was buzzing with excitement when he realized where they were, what they were doing and it was old dad who was actually taking him. That he wouldn't have to spend all summer begging Erin to go and endure some other fucking dinosaur thing. It would've just been cruel to pull the plug at that point – when he already had his boy thinking he was pissed at him because of the little road trip he'd had to do the day before.

So he'd given the kid at the ticketing booth the bills with a minor glare, a little smack – but no comment.

Had thought it might end up a giant waste of money that could've well been spent on something else.

Had arrived there bright and early – right as the doors were opening – on a fucking Sunday, but there were still lots of other people milling around. Thought his kid would crap out in the crowds but the space was big enough once they actually got through the little opening video herding pen, everyone spread out real good once they got in the actual exhibit. But that was a problem of its own. The thing was fucking huge. It was taking up one of the full halls in the exhibit space on the pier – all 100,000 square feet of it. So then his concern had been that it wasn't so much that the crowds were going to wipe out his boy – it was the sheer mass of it.

But E had been committed to seeing every last bit of the exhibit. So they'd slogged away at it. His boy had to stop and take some rests. And Hank was pretty sure they were in there a whole lot longer than most families – even the ones with the real little kids who could go into some of the dig pits that E had briefly lamented that he was too old for. Kid likely could've snuck in without a problem or question, considering he still looked like he was about ten and had the kind of dino-enthusiasm seeping off of him that made him seem more like he was about six again.

Hank had encouraged him enough to go over and take a look at the set-up when he was acting so fucking timid and embarrassed about his clear want to go in. The kid hadn't gone off digging in the dirt like he did when he was a little boy and they ended up with him at the Children's Museum a couple times a year so he could do just that – but he did discover that they had "real" paleontologists manning the sandbox area and he'd ended up chatting their ear off and asking rapid-fire questions until Voight had stepped in and reminded the kid about his twitches and that filter of his. Calmed him down and got him to let the poor guy go and deal with some other kids – and adults – who wanted his attention. But it did get them directed to a fucking pile of dinosaur poop that Ethan seemed pretty fascinated about looking at and giving him a giant fucking explanation about the "coprolite" fossil. Definitely just looked like rock turds to Voight but he'd stood there with his kid for a while doing the listening thing.

Been a little rough. There wasn't a whole lot of seating in the place and Hank was having to keep an eye out for benches and force his kid to sit and take a break. Only real place to sit down where two little theater areas that amounted to little more than puppet shows of baby dinosaurs and people dressed up as raptors chewing on people's arms and heads. Thankfully E was old enough to recognize that was complete shit and hadn't shown any interest in them having to sit through either of those things. So instead it'd been benches near the johns. Used it as an excuse to look at the map and guidebook passport of the exhibit that E was happily critiquing the information in and just as happily waiting in line at each fucking stamp station to get his fucking dinosaur stamps for the thing. Unfortunately E had also used the sit down time as an excuse to spout off this bullshit about wherever the fuck Max and his family were at – just like Halstead predicted. Voight made some listening sounds but then shut it down. Wouldn't be happening that summer – that was for fucking sure. He didn't get into the fact that it would likely never happen with the kid. A fucking theme park? Sure as fuck wasn't going to travel all that way and spend all that money to go on some fucking dinosaur ride. Kid was being ridiculous.

The place had been kind of dark too, which never was good with E's lack of peripheral vision. As more people came into the hall and as they stood in front of some of the more popular dinosaurs, E had ended up walking right into things and people – not realizing the lack of space there were around him. Worse had been when in some of the more crowded spots or bottlenecks, people just didn't seem to be watching or acknowledging the amount of space a kid on crutches might need and E had taken a couple knocks and stumbles. E hardly seemed to register it but Hank had made sure to cast some glares when the bodily impact had come without an acknowledgement or an apology.

Taken them longer than most people to get through the place too since there was a fair amount of reading involved. E was trying but with the dark and his sight and just his reading abilities in general, it was taking him a while to get through each panel – and he seemed pretty fucking committed to reading and absorbing every single one. At the start E hadn't much wanted his help – which Voight actually thought was some pretty good progress – but he was showing some frustration as they went along and Hank had ended up reading a lot of the displays to him as they worked their way through. Likely sped them up a bit but not much. Hank suspected most families maybe spent about ninety minutes charging through the thing. Him and E were in there for closer to three hours. A little much but at least it did mean he felt like he got his money's worth.

Hank wasn't that interested in dinosaurs. Never really had been, though, it'd been a cute affliction in his little boy. Cute now too to see Henry catching onto his uncle's enthusiasm and wanting to play dinosaurs too. Might have another dino-nut on their hands with that one. But he'd really just always seen the whole dinosaur thing as something he tolerated and showed a bit of interest in for his kid's sake – accommodated. Just like he'd tolerated Erin's fucking awful metal music and Justin and his love affair with football. But the exhibit actually wasn't that bad. Learned some things. Thought E had too – shockingly since that kid seemed to know more about dinosaurs that some paleontologists.

But there'd been skeletons and fossils and a whole lot of interactive exhibits and hands on activities. Lot of the dinosaurs were animatronic – moving, roaring, blinking at the guests as they walked by, ripping apart another dino on display. Eth had gotten a real kick out of that. Hank had just been amazed at how real some of the things looked and sounded. Gave you a whole new respect for the monsters. Even had some of these feathered dinosaurs and a lot of information on the walls about all this new research about dinosaurs' bone structure and likely being warm-blooded. Hank had been pretty fascinated with that – even though it was an area of dino history that E loved rambling on about. Just been different to read some of the panels and get it from the horses' mouth. A whole different lesson plan than anything he'd been taught about dinosaurs back when he was in school – last millennium.

The IMAX had been about the whole dinosaurs as birds thing too – Flying Monsters. So by the time they'd gone over every inch of the exhibit, argued with Ethan about wanting to spend every last cent of his allowance in the gift shop – that Hank would've really preferred they didn't have you fucking exiting through, and then walking back down the pier to the movie theater and sitting through the show – they'd put in close to four hours in E's dinotopia. Way more than enough for Hank to endure in one day but the kid had still gone on and on about it in the walk over to the beach and the bistro. He'd had about enough. Looked like the waitress had too. They'd been sitting there taking up space for a while without his son having even opened the menu.

"Ethan," he put to his boy firmly. "What do you want?"

"I'm not hungry," he managed to stop himself.

Voight glared at him harder. "You're eating," he told him.

Erin had already relayed that the day before all her and Halstead had fucking gotten into the kid was a fruit smoothie – minus the yogurt and just a whole lot of ice and coconut water – and a few bits of brat and kraut. Had refused to eat dinner and then that morning he'd only picked at the watermelon Halstead had out a breakfast.

It was fucking hot and he knew that affected appetites – he sure as fuck didn't have much of his own either – but his kid was wasting away. Needed some real food in him and some real protein. Especially with all his meds and especially if he expected his body to cooperate and let him play ball that summer.

But E just looked away from him – taking a whole lot of interest in the fucking puzzle and book that Hank had relented in dropping more cash on.

Eth's cognitive therapist was big on using puzzles to help with his spatial awareness and lateral thinking while working on managing his dexterity with the tremor. She had ones that he worked on when he was over at the rehab center but they only had little kiddie ones – forty-eight or a hundred piece – sort of deals kicking around the house from when the boys were real little. Eth wasn't too interested in lowering himself to putting together one of them. So Hank had submitted himself to buying a 1,000-piece puzzle for the kid when E had been gazing at them with some interest. It was a real nice. All the feathered types of dinosaurs they'd just been learning about. Could likely get some puzzle glue and tact the thing up on the wall for him after he got it done. And it was something that'd hopefully help him and that Hank didn't mind sitting there with him and putting in a few pieces in an evening. Lot better than staring at a screen. A good summer project. Some substance to it. Kid needed that.

The book – it was on the vague hope that they could end some of the fucking arguing about him putting in the time reading that he needed to do to get the fucking book report done for summer school without Hank or Erin ending up doing the whole thing for him. So The Lost World it'd been. E had it picked up and looking at it. Hank had pointed out it was by the same guy as the Sherlock Holmes book they'd been slogging through but that he wasn't letting him pass off as his summer reading project. Kid had perked up at that, though. He was liking the Sherlock Holmes stories. Sherlock Holmes and dinosaurs? Sounded like a blockbuster to Eth.

So the puzzle got bought by Hank. The book – that'd end up having cash taken out of his school supplies jar when they got home. But the kid had funds there. Wouldn't hurt his bottom line too bad. And it'd shut him up about spending some of his pocket money or savings on fucking junk out of the gift shop. Though, Hank likely should've let him go ahead with that so he could get a lesson on spending money on stupid shit the next time he needed cash and went looking in his budget jars to find he didn't have any. But apparently he was being a bit of a softie that day. Or he was just trying to save himself some fucking grief. He could only drag his kids through shit kicking and screaming so much. Sometimes he needed a fucking break from all the arguments. And that day – he was fucking tired.

So he wasn't in any mood to deal with any of Magoo's 'not gonna eat' bullshit either.

"Ethan," he barked at him more firmly and his son gave him a small glance. "Put the puzzle away and tell the lady what you want."

"Nothing," E huffed but at least listened on putting the puzzle back in his bag part.

Hank let out a long, annoyed breath and turned to the young woman. "He'll take a water. I need a coffee," he directed and glanced back at the menu. "Get the veggie platter," he said with a tap. "Can I get the pita switched out for the kettle chips?" he asked the girl just nodded as she jotted down the note.

"Fries," Ethan interjected firmly at that.

Voight cast him a look and shook his head. "You aren't eating fries," he rasped.

"They're better than kettle chips," Ethan argued. Hank ignored that comment.

"You get two dips," the girl added, looking at him while he glared across the table at his son.

"What you want, Magoo?" The kid just put the attitude back on and shrugged. "Hummus and guacamole," he provided on Ethan's behalf, looking at the menu again. "You want to share a wrap or wings?" he asked, since apparently the kid wasn't as 'not hungry' as he claimed – at least when it came to how he ate his potatoes. But no reply came. E had gone back to staring at the cover of the book. So he tested the kid. Looked up at the girl. "We'll do the wrap – in collards."

Ethan made a bleck face and provided, "Wings."

He smacked at him and looked at the girl. "Wings," he said flatly. "Just the one pound. The hot sauce on the side."

The girl nodded, scribbling a final note and reaching to take the menus. "I'll get your drinks," she said and moved away.

Hank looked across the table at his son. "Gettin' sick of his not eating thing, Ethan," he said firmly. "You're going to make yourself sick."

"I am sick," he provided sullenly, gazing out the window at the view of the Ohio Street Beach.

"You're goin' to make yourself sicker," Hank pressed sternly. "That's unacceptable."

E cast him a little look and went back to looking at the book again. "I think this will be good," Ethan said in a crap attempt to change the subject.

"Mmm …," Hank allowed. "It will be good that I'm not going to hear any more arguments about you getting your reading done for that report."

E sighed a little and gazed at the book some more. It'd be a challenge for his reading level – but doable, if he put his mind to it. If having a book of his choosing wasn't enough motivation, Hank would pretty soon be providing other ones – of the loss of rights and privileges variety until he got his ass in gear.

"I really liked the exhibit, Dad," Ethan told him like some sorta mea culpa.

But Hank just nodded. "Good," he allowed. "I can tell."

"Is our ticket still good?" he asked. "Maybe we can go back after lunch?"

Hank scrubbed at his face. "Liked the exhibit, Magoo, but I've reached my dinosaur threshold for the day."

E thought about that a minute. "Maybe we can go back next weekend?"

Voight shook his head as he brought his hands away from his eyes, just in time to see the waitress had brought him a coffee. Didn't usually drink coffee at two-thirty in the afternoon, but he needed it that day. He gave her a small nod of thanks and lifted it to take a sip.

"Those ticket prices, it's not the kind of thing you do more than once, Ethan," he said. "At least not on my dime."

"I could pay," E provided.

Voight shrugged. "Good chunk of change, but you think that's how you want to spend your cash …"

He thought about it some more. "Maybe Erin and Jay would take me? Maybe they'd let me use my museum coupon?"

"Have to ask," Voight allowed, though, he didn't think that was exactly what his girl had had in mind when she'd written that activity down for her brother. Was likely thinking Field or the Science and Tech Museum. Maybe the planetarium or the aquarium. Really doubted she'd been contemplating dropping more than a hundred bucks on a travelling dinosaur show smack in the middle of tourist central. Hoped that she didn't agree to it either. But, it was also her money – she could decide how she wanted to spend it. She fought with her brother about stupider things. And her and Halstead dropped cash on Magoo on stupider things too. Spoiled him. But were good to him.

They struck a good balance most of the time. Some shit he didn't approve of. Wasn't too sure about the Lego shit that Halstead bought for him once a month, though, he supposed that helped with the dexterity too. Also wasn't big on these downloadable games on the Xbox that they ended up getting. Usually Halstead seemed to use pretty good judgment about these games. There'd been some interesting titles that he'd watched his kid play. Things that didn't rub Voight the wrong way. But this Ghostbusters one had turned into a fucking nightmare. Fucking battle with the kid about screentime since that damn game had appeared on the hard drive. He was about ready to delete. But for the time being the whole fucking game system had been unplugged and locked down in the safe – until E got over himself and the fucking arguing.

Didn't have time to be playing fucking Xbox for hours every night with the workload in summer school. Didn't need to listen to the bullshit about him spending his screentime playing the fucking game in the afternoon and than thinking he still got to watch his ball games in the evening. One or the other kid. And for now the other had been eliminated. School and his ball team where were his energy needed to be directed that month. His free time outside of that – well, Voight could think of a whole lot better things he could be doing rather than fucking videogames and apps and all this other crap. He needed to impose that – so he had. Set up a habit for the kid and hopefully it'd stick and he'd start just doing it on his own. His son wasn't going to be some videogame or phone or tablet zombie.

But E apparently didn't really like that answer about Erin determining his dinosaur future – just like he didn't like the whole videogame thing - and stared out the window a bit more. "Are we going to go to the beach after?"

Voight allowed a small smack and gazed out the window too.

It was a funny beach. Just adjacent to the pier but off a park space that seemed most of the tourists never much wandered into and so they hadn't really discovered the lake and sand yet either. But it was so close to the pier that a lot of the local avoided it too out of the fear they'd just be dealing with the out-of-towners. So it was never that crowded – as far as Hank had seen. Not that this was the beach that he ever much frequented with his family. They had other favorite lakeshore, park and picnic spots when the kids were little. But with the weather what it was, the water looked pretty tempting. And, he'd wanted to keep his son cool. Had tossed their trunks and towels in the backpack along with all the rest of Ethan's medical gear and change of clothes for in case of an emergency. So might as well use it.

"First we're resting and eating," he put flatly.

Kid need both. His tremor was hard to watch that day. It was up to his elbow. His whole arm just bouncing. Voight had watched him the exhibit hall – seen the extra weight he was putting on the left crutch as a support to try to still it. Then he could see the movement the jerking was creating in his kid's bicep.

For all this shit he was having spewed at him by the doctors about keeping E cool and monitoring his core temps to keep his symptoms and exasperations under control – he didn't know how the fuck they expected him to be doing that this summer, beyond sending his kid to camp in Antarctica. But he was just going to have to keep plugging away at it – figure it out – because didn't want to end up with an all out flare that had his son hospitalized again. Would really like to avoid any hospital or emergency room trips that summer. They'd already spent enough time at Med that year – and barely more than halfways through it yet.

But E just cast him a smile. "Will you come in?" he asked of the water.

Voight shrugged. "Maybe," he allowed.

He'd more likely guard their stuff. Wasn't sure he wanted to leave Eth's meds and crutches sitting on a towel – even if he could see it from the water. Though, the kid would likely stay in longer and let his core cool down if he did go in with him. So they'd see. He was actually sort of hoping that E would indicate that he needed his afternoon rest soon. They were charging toward that witching hour.

Hank could still use some extra shuteye too. Not that he was much for taking an afternoon nap. Likely wouldn't shut his eyes again until well into the evening. But his body was definitely telling him he'd been on the move all day yesterday and that he hadn't gotten more than about two hours sleep. He wasn't even really sure he'd gotten that. The house was so fucking hot.

He knew Erin was some pissed at him at the moment but she tended to get over that sort of shit pretty quickly. So he was thinking about calling her and seeing if him, the kid and the dog could crash at her place that night. Let her go over to Halstead's. Let everyone get a full night's sleep and start the week fresh. He got the sense they all fucking needed that.

Supposed Erin had a bit of a right to be pissed at him. Though, he thought he'd had as much of a right to be pissed at her too. Just fucking annoyed. The bullshit he'd had to endure tolerating at work that week with her and Halstead. Sometimes she took way too much for granted about just how much he turned a blind-eye, how much leash she really did get. Normally wouldn't tolerate that shit from a subordinate. They'd be off-packing. Didn't have the time or interest in dealing with it. Grow up and shut up. And get the fuck out of his sight. Maybe he gave her too much special treatment. But she was his kid and she'd come through a lot to get as far as she did. Sure, he'd given her a leg up at times. Gave her some hooks to get her moved ahead a bit faster than most would. But that was the job and that was Chicago. All about who you know and how you manage and play those connections. Wasn't her fault or problem she had him to do that for her. She was actually damn lucky she did. But sometimes she didn't do so great at acknowledging that and keeping in perspective that he was her boss. Voight had to remind himself that he'd also been the one that brought that on himself – bringing his girl into his unit. For better and worse.

Still – he'd more than lost his patience with her that week. Lost it more when she wasn't answering her damn phone. But he was feeling a little more forgiving in the moment – assuming what he thought was going on was going on.

He figured since Halstead had ended up removing the food from the breakfast spread that he'd told him too – that that was enough of a confirmation. He wasn't going to push it farther by strong-arming either of them into verbally telling him before they were ready. He was figuring that part of the show he'd witnessed that week and the tension he'd seen, his girl not answering her phone, her insistence she had other things on the go, Halstead reinforcing that they had shit they needed to deal with that weekend – they'd likely just found out. They were likely in freak out mode. Suspected this wasn't exactly a planned or intentional pregnancy – if that's what it was.

Explained a lot, though. Erin had been as moody as fuck lately. Between her and E, he felt like he was being batted on both sides of his kids just mouthing off at him and being set off at nearly anything he said. Could hardly look at them without them accusing him of something. And she'd said more than once that she was overtired when he'd pointed out some piss poor workmanship she was showing both on the job and in dealing with some of Ethan's shit. She was just missing little things that normally she wouldn't. Just like her head wasn't all there. And Erin wasn't one to complain about fatigue much. She was pretty good at going twenty-four and one without so much as a winge. Took on doubles without complaints and then took on chores with her brother as soon as she got off them. And beyond all that, things had been going relatively smoothly with Eth so it wasn't like there was an added layer of stress and demands to be wearing her down. Add in the fact that coffee seemed to have been eliminated from her diet and the pieces just fucking started to fall in place.

Real nail in the coffin had been that morning though. Erin and Halstead had likely thought they were being real quiet when they were going back and forth to the Escalade. Also likely hadn't realized that he'd already given up on the A/C having any impact in Eth's room and had opened the window. So he could hear them loud and clear. Most of it had been them speculating about why the fuck he'd been in Fort Campbell and had a truck full of Justin and Olive's things. But Halstead had also had a bit of an argument with Erin about which boxes she should be carrying. Some of them were a little heavy. Erin was always one to carry her load and sure as fuck didn't put up with men carrying it for her. But Halstead had been pushy about it. Though, there was some clear hesitation going on with how he phrased it and how he argued with her. But he'd also been firm with her about it. Erin kept saying she was fine and Halstead had actually taken that tone of his with her and told her that he'd handle it. There'd been a long pause. Hank didn't need to see the scene to know that Erin had those arms of hers crossed and was glaring at him. But whatever look she was getting back must've been enough because he'd heard her come back in the door and upstairs after that – Halstead left to humping the boxes in on his own.

Hank had read between the lines on all that. Gave Jay the little test in the morning. Pretty much took it as confirmation. Knew it was likely the only confirmation he'd get for a while. Likely still early. Seemed like most people waited to tell family until they were at least through the first trimester. As her father who was also her boss, if he was right, he wished she'd tell him sooner than later. But he knew she likely wouldn't want to because she likely knew he'd plunk her on ass-duty real quick. Maybe quicker than he would other female cops – because she was his daughter and that was his grandbaby they were talking about. So he figured it might be a while before she came to him about it. He might have to go look at the whole real CPD policies on that kind shit to see when he could actually put her on ass-duty. He might not get to do things his way on this. Would have to go by the book to appease Erin. Hopefully the book made some fucking sense in this case, which was always a fucking crap shoot when it came to CPD policy and fucking union rules. Some of it was absolute bullshit.

A whole lot of fucking changes, though. Maybe too many. Be a whole new dynamic for the family. More shifts. And they sure as fuck had been going through a lot of them lately. More just kept coming down the pipes. But that was life.

Still, he knew his girl was likely stressing out. She'd be worrying about her career and her job and her place in Intelligence. Hell, her and Halstead kept fucking putting off setting a wedding date because of all of that. And now it was going to be right back at the forefront at all whole new level.

He knew Erin would be worrying about what kind of mother she'd be too. She'd be thinking on her own childhood too much and comparing herself to fucking Bunny. Things she shouldn't be dwelling on.

His girl would do good. She'd more than proven that with her baby brother. And, he thought Halstead would be good too. That kid had baggage as well. Didn't come from the ideal family situation. Voight didn't much like that he'd grown up in a broken home and didn't seem to have much of a relationship with his father these days. But the kid – the man – had earned his respect. He trusted him with Erin. He trusted him with his son. And, he'd have to trust that he'd do right to his grandkids too. That he'd figure out how to be a family man even if he hadn't had the best example growing up. Sometimes it wasn't about examples. It was about priorities. It was about morals and dedication and a sense of loyalty and responsibility. Duty. Halstead had those traits. He'd be OK. He didn't think he'd fuck up his grandkids too badly. Fucking parenting was all just fumbling around and trying to find the way the best you could anyway. Generally, it worked out, if you kept picking at it. Thing was you had to keep fucking picking at it your whole damn life. It sure didn't fucking end on your babies' eighteenth birthdays.

The waitress appeared again and deposited the veggie platter on the table. "Wings will just be a couple more minutes," she said.

"Thanks," Hank allowed and watched as E dove for the cucumber and guac. So much for the kid not being hungry.

But he'd known the cucumber and guac would entice him. The kid would just eat the hummus right out of the cup too if Hank left it, which he intended too. The guac was for the kid too. Healthy fats and protein. Let the kid eat it up. He just took a carrot stick. Stick and carrot. That's what it was with Magoo. Most of the time it was just a matter of getting something he'd actually eat in front of him. Sometimes that was a bit of a puzzle too. Thankfully that afternoon it hadn't been – because he likely would've pulled the plug if E really had refused to eat anything. It'd be pushing twenty-four hours since the kid had eaten anything of substance then. That just wasn't manageable or sustainable for any of them – appetite, nausea or not.

He sat back and watched his kid eat for a minute. Let him. Uninterrupted. Just sipped on his coffee. But then he sat forward a bit and caught his son's eyes.

"Look, Ethan," he said. "I've got to talk to you about something."

"I already know," Ethan muttered, working at filling a celery stick with the hummus.

"Hmm …?" Hank allowed. But he doubted it.

His son glanced at him. "Yea. I was awake when they called that house guy. I heard them talking to him."

Hank squinted at his son and sat back in his chair a bit. "That house your sister and Halstead went looking at yesterday?" E just nodded. "They putting in an offer on it?"

Ethan shrugged. "I don't know what that means but they called some house guy and they had it on speaker phone and they were both asking lots of questions."

"Hmm," Hank grunted and thought on that.

Hadn't sounded like Halstead was that interested in the house this morning but might've been more that he just didn't want to talk to him about it. The kid was pretty clearly unimpressed with him too. He likely had a right to be too given everything. But it was what it was. He'd get over it. And he was giving them both a bit of leeway. They did watch Magoo even though they didn't want to and they clearly had a lot on their plate to talk about and worry about and work out in those moments. But that made it reassuring they were getting their asses in gear about this house hunt thing. Hopefully it meant they'd be getting their asses in gear about this wedding and work situation too. Growing up. Proving again that they were adults – and that they were ready for what might be coming their way, even if they didn't feel like they were. Who ever was completely ready?

"So Erin's going to be moving far away from us too," Eth muttered as he shoved a big bite of celery in his mouth with a good crunch.

Voight allowed an amused noise. "Place was just in Roscoe Village wasn't it?"

E nodded and mumbled with a full mouth, "I think so."

Voight shrugged. "That's not far. Just down the street from your home diamond."

"Dad, it's a garage," Ethan said to him after he swallowed. "Like where they kept horses forever ago. It's not even a real house."

Voight thought on that. "You mean it's a coach house?"

"I guess," E muttered, having gone back to examining the vegetable plate.

"So it wasn't one of these condo developments they've been looking at?"

E shook his head at that and dipped a carrot in the guacamole and started chomping on it. But Voight just grunted with some thought. He kind of liked that idea. Wasn't much for a lot of the condo developments that were completely overtaking the city. He knew Erin liked her spot but he'd never been a big fan. And, those places, they just didn't seem like a place to raise a family. Kids needed residential streets. Some trees. Nearby parks and pools. Other kids to run around with. Not just fucking concrete and a view of the lake or the skyline from a fucking high-rise. Or even one of these townhouses in some fucking gated off "community" that they'd looked at. Not the kind of place he wanted to be visiting his grandchildren. Not the kind of place he thought they should be growing up.

A coach house? That could be interesting. Didn't get much more real Chicago than that. The things could be a bit of a pain in the ass with municipal regulations about renovations on them and expansions. The whole grandfathering system made them this real legal grey area. But it explained why Halstead had said it was small. Likely explained why he might've been less than enthusiastic about it. But you saw some of these places set up real nice anymore. Seemed like a pretty good starter home to him. Maybe a hell of a lot more and longer than that. He knew it'd be hard for them to find a single-family home in some of the better neighborhoods of the city at a price mark they could manage without being mortgage poor and paying the bank for the rest of their lives. Though, he thought the two of them could likely manage to hold their own in a bit more rugged neighborhood. Both had grown-up there. But he also didn't blame them for not wanting to start their family there either. You tried to give your kids a bit better than you had. Firmer legs, better standing, more opportunities. Coach house. Roscoe. That could do that for them. Would likely be a different experience for them from where they'd lived as kids and grown. Even a different experience from where and how they were living now. But not a bad neighborhood to live in. Age appropriate. Lots of young people living up there. Good that way. Good for them.

He'd like to see what they'd looked at. How renovated the place was. How up to snuff. But he likely could find the listing without being nosey about it with Erin. Only so many coach houses still around and only so many ever on the market. Shouldn't be too hard to track down.

But he just leaned forward again. "OK, well, I'm sure your sister will figure it out." E gave him a glance. "But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

E's face changed and he dropped the cucumber slice he was working on piling a bunch of guac onto. "I knew it," he spat. "We never do anything fun—"

"That so? Never?" Voight interrupted him in the explosion of attitude he was getting. Cranky. Maybe they really were at his fucking nap time.

But he took some fucking exception to his boy's word choice. He knew he wasn't Mr. Happy Fun Times – but he went out of his way to make sure his son was getting a childhood. That he gave him experiences. That they did shit together. That he was getting to do shit with his sister. He was getting out to movies and ball games. Got the occasional trip to the museum and fishing and camping. Took him out for breakfast at least once a month. Kid usually got a dinner out a Carmine's monthly too because he just didn't fucking feel like cooking. Went with him down to the park to run the dog and throw the ball around. Fucking tossed the ball to him out back until he was starting to feel like he was going to need Tommy John surgery by the end of the summer. He got to as many of his practices and games – both in Robotics and ball as he could. Played cards with him all the time – even fucking ridiculous games like Uno and Spot It. Endured his fucking boardgames. Even played the stupid videogames with him some just to see what he was playing. Watched the damn dinosaur shows and sat with him to watch the Cubs. Read to him. Took him to the fucking hobby store and spotted him on a pack of cards even though he really should be using his own fucking money for that.

Sure, a lot of the time he spent with his boy was just homework and chores and errands. But that was real life – and that was still together time. It was still him being involved in his kid's life and both of them being involved in their family life. And he did his best to still make that time about Ethan. And to still make sure that there was some fun in there. That he wasn't hard done by. That he was having a decent childhood. That he'd grow up to be a well-rounded man and wouldn't just remember him as the father who worked too much and only took him to medical appointments. Was doing his best to be a parent and a father to him. Also trying to groom some friendship and relationship in him so that hopefully they'd still feel like father-and-son when he was a grown man. That they'd still do 'fun' things. Still get out to the Cubs or out on the lake or tuck back a couple beers with something on the grill or fire. Didn't like his kid suggesting that there wasn't 'fun' in his life – in their relationship. That he wasn't trying. Because he sure as fuck as. And sometimes Ethan was a little fucking spoiled.

Must've picked up on that, though, because he flared his nostrils. "Not like expensive stuff like this!" he pressed. "Not the exhibit and lunch. Not dinosaurs. You hate dinosaurs."

"Ethan," Hank warned. But his son crossed his arms and slumped back in the chair, glaring out the window. "We did this for two reasons. One – because you were right this morning. Saturdays – I have them off and I do make spending that time with you a priority. We didn't get that yesterday – so today, us taking some time is my priority. And, two, I wanted to get you out of the house and in air conditioning. What I've got to talk to you about has nothing to do with today."

"You're making me repeat Grade Seven aren't you?" he whispered out.

"I'm not making you do anything," Voight pressed. "You're going to decide whether you repeat the year or not based on how much work you put into summer school."

E just huffed and glared out the window.

"You want to act your age," Voight put to him sternly. "Sit up straight, look at me and listen."

E shifted those angry eyes of his back to him – but Hank just returned them even more firmly.

"I've just got some news, E," he said.

"What?" Ethan spat.

"Don't talk to your father like that," he warned again. The kid wavered slightly but then still glared. "We're goin' do Henry's birthday up here," he said flatly. "Rather than on base."

E blinked at him. Hank could feel the gears in his son's head processing that. "Why?"

Hank let out a little sigh at that and sat back in his chair, pinching at the bridge of his nose for a moment. "For a lot of reasons. But mostly because Olive wants to do it up here. She's anxious to get back."

E shrugged. "OK. Fine. Whatever. I didn't want to go all the way down there anyway. And Justin was being a jerk about Jay coming on the weekend and Erin said that she was likely going to be on rotation and not coming. So basically it was going to suck anyway."

Hank grunted at that and leaned forward again to catch his son's eyes. "Look, E, you need to know too, that when Henry and them come up for his birthday, Olive and Henry are likely going to stay up in Chicago."

The boy's eyes flickered again as he processed that. "Why?" he finally asked again.

Hank shrugged and gave a little shake of his head. He didn't fucking know and he didn't really want to get his son in a tizzy about it. It was another fucking situation he was having to read between the lines on and it basically came down to him having raised one son to become … the kind of man he disapproved of. Or so it seemed. That a whole lot of signs were pointing to Justin having another woman on the side. That he was putting his dick in places he shouldn't be. That he was stepping out on his wife – and his family. He was setting a poor example for his own infant son. Or at least that seemed to be the tizzy that Olive had herself partially believing – without directly saying it. She was just saying that she wanted away from base for a while. That she thought Justin could use some time alone to finish packing up and winding down his training and getting ready for his send off to his schooling. That she'd like some time to settle into the city and where they were living before Justin was real busy with his studies and his training exercises and his weekend duty rotations. That she'd like some time to try to ready for her own course and to apply to internships and maybe get some interviews. To look at childcare options for H and to see if she could find some sort of job to be bringing in some money for the family too. But it was all underscored with her saying that she thought Justin could use some time apart from her and Henry too to decide what he wanted for the next few years.

Hank didn't think Justin needed any time to decide what he wanted. He'd made that decision for himself when he got that woman pregnant, when he'd fathered a child. He'd made it again when he'd given Olive Camille's ring. The next few years – all the rest of his years, what his priority should be – was right there in front of him.

Justin kept on telling him that it wasn't what he thought. That he was taking what Olive said the wrong way. But then in the next breath he was saying that Olive was right – that it'd be better for her and Henry to be somewhere else for the next while. That he'd feel better knowing they were near him. But then he wouldn't fucking tell him what all this was about. Why he was getting a call from his wife in the middle of the week – not more than a week after he saw them home on the Fourth. Why it was Olive talking to him – asking him for this – and not Justin. Any questions he fucking asks, he just gets the lines about interrogation and ball busting and him not being a kid. Any lecturing Hank gave him about his responsibilities as a husband and father were just met with him arguing that this was him taking responsibility as a husband and father and he was asking him to do this for him. To get his wife and child away from him. For him to be away from them for nearly six weeks.

He didn't fucking understand. And Justin wasn't giving him anything. They'd just fought. Like they always did and like he was so fucking sick of doing with his oldest son. It wasn't the kind of relationship he wanted with him. But it was his child and it was about his grandchild. So, he'd stopped arguing and just packed the car and started working at setting this in motion. Whatever the fuck this was. That he'd have to trust it was for the right reasons, not the wrong reasons. That it was his son being the man he wanted him to be – not the kind of man he loathed. But Hank didn't know how far he trusted his. He had a bad fucking feeling about it. He saw Olive's body language. He saw Justin's over-confidence oozing off him. And he'd just ended up wondering what the fuck he'd done wrong. He just couldn't seem to get shit right with Justin and now it was impacting Olive and his grandson too.

He'd have to look into it more. Ask around some. Try to read between the lines more. Piece together what was being said and left unsaid. But for now, he was just fucking dealing with it. Because that's what you had to do with kids. And apparently it continued on to your grandkids too. Because something about all of it just hit him as wrong and he had been hit with this overwhelming urge to protect his little man. Part of him wanted to pack H in the car and drive him back to Chicago with him right then too. Until they got all this sorted out. Whatever the fuck this was.

"It will just be easier," he provided to E. "Give them some time to get settled before J's classes start up."

E squinted at him. "But that means that they'll be here in the beginning of August and J doesn't start college until like September, right?"

Hank let out a little sigh and nodded. Though it might be a bit of a lie. They were likely going to be headed up a lot sooner than that from the sounds of it. "It's just what they feel will be easier for their family," he said.

Ethan was clearly skeptical but gave a 'whatever' shrug. Hank tapped his joined hands on the table.

"Thing is, Ethan, they haven't quite got a place lined-up yet. I guess Justin's working on that from his end and I'm going to see what we can do about helping them find something from here – but Olive and Henry are likely going to be staying with us for a while. And I'm goin' to need you to be a man about that."

Ethan's face dropped again. Hank knew the kid wasn't that comfortable around Olive and he had a bit of a love-hate relationship with H. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the baby, he didn't think.

"Why do I need to be a man about it?" Ethan said weakly. "I'm not. I'm still a kid."

Hank gave him a thin smile. "I know, Magoo. But, sometimes we all have to grow up a bit and just be a man in the situation we're presented with. I've watched you do that a lot this year. Been real proud of you for that. And this situation is just another one that I'm going to have to ask you to do that again."

"But …," he sputtered and then looked away, shaking his head with some defeat. "I'm a kid. They're J's family. He's the man of the family. He's supposed to be the man. You say that all the time. The father and the husband is the man and they need to act like one."

Hank allowed a sad smile to pull at his lips and reached across the table to pat at his son's cheek until E met his eyes.

"Some people need more time to grow up than others," he told him. "Some of us got to grow up faster. Not fair, but life ain't fair, E."

E sighed and went back to gazing out the window. Hank did too.

"Sometimes unfair parts work out real good, Ethan," Hank said after giving him a minute and his son gave him a glance. "Think H will be real lucky to get to spend some time with a man like you."

His boy silently eyed him for a good long time. More of Camille showing through than the anger. Her questioning him about what the fuck was going on and how he was going to fix this too. But then he just looked back out to the water.

Thing was, though, it was the truth. Sometimes he felt like his baby was a better example for his grandbaby than his own father. Sometimes he didn't know how his own son could bring him so much pride and so much disappointment all at once.

But most of the time he just wished Justin would talk to him. Would come to him. It would save them all so much fucking struggle and heartbreak over and over and over again.

But here they were. Doing it again. And he'd keep on fucking doing it until he was dead in the dirt. Because that's what fathers – men – did.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: The chapter before this (BREAKFAST LOSES) was posted within 24 hours so didn't bump. Please make sure you didn't miss it.**

 **Reviews and feedback are appreciated.**


	135. Handling It

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 118 - REAL MEN.**

An impatient shake of the sheet, forced Erin to pull her eyes away from her examination of Ethan. She'd set her eyes on her little brother as Hank fidgeted with tucking the flat sheet around the foot of her bed to near perfection. Him and Jay would get along more than they fucking knew or acknowledged. Everything just so. She didn't really care what the bed looked like – especially when it wasn't her sleeping in it. Even more especially when it was likely her little brother who would be.

Though, at the moment, he looked pretty comfortable over on her couch. Well, as comfortable as he could be. She knew he was tired and grouchy and hurting. But at least he was now cuddled under his sleeping bag, that he'd insisted on dragging over to her place like this was some kind of camp out, and his heating blanket – that by the looks of the indicator light, he had cranked up to high.

Bear was cuddled right up there with him and Erin was biting her tongue about the oversized puppy up on her still-new couch. He wasn't allowed on any furniture but Ethan's bed at home – and that was only when Hank wasn't in the room to chastise the dog and order him down. Not that the rule really stopped the dog from getting up on the furniture when it didn't think anyone was looking. He liked to push the boundaries, just like any other Voight male. Perfect fit for the family.

But Bear was looking at Ethan with such concerned eyes. And, Erin knew how much comfort the silly puppy brought to him, so she couldn't make herself bark at Bear or her brother about his location. She'd leave that to Hank. Though, she suspected he must've noticed and likely was giving some leeway or waiting to impose his rules in her space until after she left. Because that a bit of an unspoken rule they'd established. Her house, her rules. His house, his rules. They were in her territory right now. So, for the moment, she was getting to decide whether o not the dog was allowed on the couch. And for now – he was.

She moved her eyes back to Hank. He smacked his impatience with her distraction and nodded at her to finish adjusting her side of the sheet. Apparently he was unimpressed with the small wrinkle in the top corner. She reached and smoothed it out, as he moved to grab the duvet.

"Funny that we're supposed to be keeping him cool and then he goes and lays under the heating blanket," she muttered.

Hank grunted and started to spread the duvet back out on the bed. "It's his joints," he grumbled

"I know," Erin mumbled back. She knew the heat was fucking with Ethan – all of them really. That Hank was likely at a point in the day where he was trying to avoid giving him any of his heavier duty pain meds, because the knock out effect came with a hangover that would continue into the school day tomorrow. So with those not being an option, the heating blanket became the only counter-intuitive option to offer Eth a little bit of relief. For what it was worth. "Still … "

Still. She didn't know what the still was anymore. Dealing with anything to do with Eth's health just ended up making her feel helpless. Just constant accommodations and management. It all felt like one step forward and one step back.

Take him out to get him exercise – which he needed to keep up his strength, stamina and muscle tone. But the exercise exhausted him and made his fatigue worse. Take him out to get the exercise in this heat and it risked the pseudo-flares. So keep him cool. But in the air conditioning he was cold. And after the heat and the exercise, the worst pseudo-flare he seemed to be getting was just agony in his legs – which he needed for his exercise and just fucking daily living. So then they had him under heating blankets trying to ease the aches – only to heat up his core again and exasperate the other pseudo-flare symptoms.

It was just a fucking endless cycle. It was becoming quickly apparent that M.S. and summer did not go well together. If him having his first massive flare and getting diagnosed last summer wasn't hint enough – this summer and actually trying to manage it was just driving it home. And they were only in July.

"I'm going to call his doctor," Hank said, as he now worked at tucking in the duvet along the edge of the mattress. "Take him in next week."

"I thought his next big neurology appointment wasn't until the end of September," Erin said, doing a half-assed job on tucking in her own side.

"He's fucking flaring every day," Hank smacked, like that was explanation enough for the call. And it was. But it wasn't.

"Pseudo-flares," Erin muttered, as she cast him a look, retrieving the pillows and tossing them on top of the bed. "They're just going to tell you the same thing they keep telling us."

That summer and M.S. are hell. Keep him cool. Manage his symptoms. Get him as much rest as they can – inside and in the shade. It sounded simple enough, but it was pretty clear that it wasn't. Not when they were going through a heat wave in a Chicago summer with the weather changing every twenty minutes. Not when they had a thirteen-year-old kid who wanted to be enjoying his summer. Playing ball. Hanging outside. Keeping up with his new found friends. Walking his dog. Getting to the beach. Begging for camping and fishing and cabin trips. You try telling a boy that age that he's supposed to spend his summer inside, in the cool, and resting. It doesn't work.

They both knew it. But Hank still gave her another annoyed look and worked at getting the pillows placed just so under the duvet. It was such a useless exercise. Eth was going to have to rip apart the whole bed to even lay in it in just a few hours.

"Well, we can't fucking keep going like this," Hank rasped. "Sleeping at my daughter's place …"

Erin sighed and crossed her arms, watching him do his organization thing on that side of the bed. Like it being just so would make any of this better or easier.

"Hank, it's fine."

He shook his head and looked at her more directly. "It's an inconvenience."

She shrugged. Because it was. But it wasn't a big deal. Still she knew this was a bigger deal to him than it was her. A blow to his ego to have to ask her for this. When she could tell his ego had already taken some blows that weekend. She could see he was doing the whole introspective thing. He had that cloud over him that he got. That far away look. Even though he was there, he was thinking about other things. But he wasn't going to talk to her about any of that yet. That was clear. And Hank was selective about what he brought her in on. She was getting the impression that this wasn't likely going to be something she got to hear about. That she got an opinion on. That this was definitely "you're my daughter" territory – which meant, "you're my child, even if you're an adult and that's how I'm going to treat you". It got old. But she also wasn't really in the mood to fight with him about it. To push it and pry it out of him. She had her own things to worry about right now without getting wrapped up in Hank's drama – which was pretty clearly Justin drama, again.

"I appreciate you putting us up," he offered. Some sort of consolation prize. But sometimes that's as much as you got from Hank. She'd learned to accept that. Him acknowledging that much was actually pretty decent of him.

So she just shrugged again. "It's not a big deal," she vocalized – even though she'd been annoyed when he'd called. Even though she was still more than a little annoyed with him about the whole weekend – about Saturday, about limiting her private time with Jay when they really needed that for some pretty serious discussion and processing. They'd gotten a little of that during the day but not enough and the bubble had been burst way too quickly when Hank had called mid-afternoon and said that he really thought that Eth could use a night in some proper A/C.

"Just think a proper night's sleep will help him a lot," he stressed again. "Really need him focusing on his school work. Need him rested."

Erin nodded. "I know," she allowed.

She reached to grab Indominus Erin – a sure sign that her little brother wasn't quite as grown-up as he thought – from where Eth had tossed his things on the floor. Eth's secondary watchdog. Usually just when he was in the hospital – but apparently he'd seen fit to bring her that night too.

"This mean you and him are on the outs too?" she asked at Hank, giving the toy a wag in his direction before she set it on the nightstand.

She didn't really need to ask. The body language between the two of them more than confirmed that there was a displeasure and tension between them. Eth oozed attitude lately, but this was different. And, she didn't exactly blame him. Eth had felt pretty abandoned and dumped on (or off) yesterday too. He knew something was up with his dad and that he wasn't being talked to either. And even if Hank had played nice that day – Erin knew all too well how Hank and playing nice worked. There'd definitely been some kind of chit-chat or pay-off involved in it. And it was pretty clear that whatever it was, Eth hadn't liked it.

Hank eyed her. "Just had a real long talk to him about school," he said. "Didn't like it much. But think there will be less attitude now."

"Mmm…" Erin acknowledged and eyed him back, weighing the truth of that statement. She didn't entirely buy that was what they were both so bent out of shape about. But she was glad that talk had happened. The first week of summer school had been a battle and she'd managed to dodge a good chunk of it with what was going on in her life. But even that had been enough. She didn't want to have to deal with that all of July. She wasn't likely going to be that available for it either now. Or at least have even less patience for it. "Well, like I said, if you want to – or need to – stay here for a few nights until this heat wave blows through so he's getting some sleep, then it's fine." Hank just made another dismissive grunt and Erin eyed him some more. "Platt's got us doing that mandatory patrol re-familiarization on some night shifts the next couple weeks anyways. I'll hardly be here."

Hank just grunted again. She knew this was bruising his dignity. Maybe more so than his pride. He was taking it as a favor, which he didn't like to have too many out at a time. Or likely worse, he was taking it as some sort of commentary on his ability to parent and care for Ethan. Which it wasn't. It was just trying to make things a bit easier for all of them.

Erin actually thought the easiest solution would be to just get central air at the house. But, she knew that that would've clearly been something Hank had thought of. So the stalling point was likely money, which just made her feel more guilty that she'd accepted that money that Camille had put away for her – for a wedding. A guilty that Hank had money sitting in a bank account earmarked as belonging to her – waiting for her to put a down payment on a house. When that was his money – and Ethan's – more than it ever should've been hers. More than any right she had to it. And she knew how much that cash would help Hank care for Ethan these days. But he was being stubborn. He'd decided six years ago where that money would go, how it would be divided and even though circumstances in their family had changed, he was refusing to budge on his investment.

It's something she had to love about Hank but it was also going to be something that'd likely always weigh on her too.

"You going to tell me about this house you like?" he finally asked, putting an end to their minor standoff. The stare down that neither of them was going to win. But she just cocked an eyebrow at him. Because he wasn't supposed to know about that. "Still haven't learned about your brother and that filter of his," Hank provided. "He also reminded me that I'm due for a prostate exam," he added and gave her an unimpressed smack.

She allowed a small smile to tug at the corner of her mouth and looked down. Eth had such a big mouth. He wasn't supposed to repeat that grumbling to his dad. It was the angry explanation of what was bothering his dad. Why he'd left so abruptly. A nicer way of saying he had something up his ass. Because there was always something up Hank's ass. It was just how he operated. If something wasn't up his ass than someone had pissed in his coffee. She wasn't sure which sour face indicated you were in for a worse day. But either way, it wasn't the kind of sentiment Eth was supposed to repeat.

"Don't think he quite put together what you were saying," Hank told her. "But did manage to pull out of that head of his that Camille's dad passed from prostate cancer." Erin's face fell a bit at that realization. That hadn't been where she intended for her little brother to go with it. "So had some questions about why I needed that exam and what exactly it was. Not to happy that he has those to look forward to in his adult life either."

Erin him gave him an almost apologetic smile. "Sorry," she said. She wasn't sure she meant it one bit. She kind of thought maybe Hank deserved that – that talk with Ethan when she could just envision the way it went and the kind of questions he'd ask and things he'd say and knew she'd dodged a major bullet there – after dumping him on them for Saturday.

Hank just smacked and gestured at her again. "So I get to hear about this house or not," he said again – this time it wasn't a question. It was a statement.

She let out a little sigh and crossed her arms but almost immediately dropped them. Because the truth was she did want to tell him. She wanted his opinion and his approval – as she often did but didn't ever really want to verbally admit. So she just pulled her phone out of her pocket and rounded the bed to show him the listing. She handed it to him after she got it pulled up.

As he stood flipping through the information and the floor plans and photos. "Coach house," he muttered, but she was sure he'd likely been told that much already. That seemed to be the only thing she had thought Eth had taken away from the open house. So she just nodded and sat down on the bed.

She knew Hank was likely looking at all the technical stuff on the listing. Noting the costs and the estimated monthly expenses. The property tax and the type of heating. The year it was built and the type of shingles it had. The street it was on and the neighborhood it was in and doing a mental calculation about the level of crime in the area. All important things – that Erin thought would generally meet his approval – but they weren't what she was excited about.

She was excited that it was a house. A real house. A single family home that was done up and modernized despite the building being from the 1800s. That it had central air and brand new kitchen cupboards with quartz countertops. That it had stainless steel appliances and the space and openness that almost made her think she might actually start using that kitchen. Or at the very least it reminded her of the big open space at Hank and Camille's home and somehow that space – and how much the family lived in there and out that breezeway door on the patio, sharing meals, reading papers, rocking on that swing – that was something she now just equated to a home. At least a normal one.

She liked the big master bedroom that really wasn't so big, as Jay kept pointing out, with the weirdly shaped, sloping ceilings because the bedrooms were in the upstairs of a coach house that was likely just for storage in years gone by. She loved the muted colors that the current owners had painted the place in – a grey blue against whites and hardwood floors. A deck that they had a grill and patio furniture on, proving they'd be able to fit the same. It didn't have a backyard like Hank's – much to Jay's upset – but it did have a small driveway and a little plot of land out front that would be easy enough to maintain given their schedules and space enough for a little kid to play or to have a basketball or street hockey net in the driveway. It was on a residential street with big, old trees lining it. And there was Hamiln Park – with its playgrounds and ball diamonds and basketball and tennis courts and outdoor pool and community fitness center – barely more than a block away.

It might not be perfect – but she thought it was pretty close. It was different from what they were looking at a couple months ago. Different than what she'd originally thought she wanted. But then she was just looking for a place for her and Jay to live as a couple. Newly weds. Jay had made clear he wanted to look at things with a bit more longer term view – and now, that made even more sense. What was happening now – what was growing inside her – had likely made her walk into that house with a slightly different mindset. To see it with slightly different eyes. And it was a family home. The couple that lived there right now had a little boy. Three years old. The second bedroom all done up as a little boy's room with a nautical theme. If the kitchen hadn't swayed her – she thought that might've.

Hank eventually let himself sit next to her. "Looks like they've got it done up real nice," Hank commented, as he continued through the last of the photos.

She nodded again. "Just renovated two years ago," she said. "Central air," she added in a tease.

Hank just grunted and handed the phone back to her. "Jay's not as excited about it?" He'd posed it as more of a question but it was another one that just seemed like a statement.

So she shrugged and started scrolling through the photos again herself. "He thinks it's a little small," she said.

That seemed to be his major concern about it. But she thought they'd both spent their early childhood in small. This didn't seem small to her. It was done up too nicely, in too nice of part of town, to consider it as "small". This was a set up. A big one. It might not be as big as Hank and Camille's house but their home was far from massive either. It was a snug fit for the family – after her and Ethan were on the scene – but it was comfortable. It was quaint. Like this place.

"Mmm…," Hank grunted and crossed his arms, giving her a look.

She gave him a thin smile. "He wants a house but he's got in his head that he wants something like your house," she allowed, though she wasn't sure she liked admitting it.

Hank smiled thinly in that way that only if you knew him could you really see. But the real tell was that he looked down for a moment to hid it, rocking slightly on the bed and crossing his arms a bit tighter.

"But it meets a lot of his criteria," she said – because Jay didn't need to get on Hank's bad side. He was likely going to be far enough on his bad side when they figured out when and how to break the news to him that he'd be getting another grandchild out of wedlock after her and her partner played house for a little too long and now it really was going to have an impact on the job and her place in the unit. "The deck with space for a grill. A house. Residential street. Not a condo."

Hank shifted his eyes to her and gave her a more genuine smile at that. She shook her head and shrugged, looking back to the photos again. "But he really wants a three bedroom. At least," she allowed a little nervously because it seemed like an awkward disclosure. "He says … if … when … we have kids, he wants them to have their own bedrooms."

"Hmm," Hank grunted and gave her another thin smile. She squinted at it for a moment, because there almost seemed to be a knowing look to it. Like he knew. She'd almost thought he knew on Saturday too. But he couldn't. And she didn't want her examination of his look give it away even more – not yet. She wasn't ready to vocalize it yet. To have that discussion with him. It was still a discussion she was having with Jay. It was still too new. It was a strange reality to wrap her head around and it was weighing heavily on her. She still had a lot of uncertainty and nervousness about it. She was still second-guessing herself and if this was right for her or for Jay or even for the baby. It was all happening so quickly.

So she looked away before she gave anything way in her examination of him. Before he let him examine her too much. Because Hank was too good at that. Too fucking good.

"So what do you think?" she asked, gazing at the pictures again, flipping through them just as something to do. To look busy.

Hank shrugged next to her, his arms still crossed. "Think what I think doesn't matter," he said.

She cast him an annoyed look. Warning. She didn't want another lecture about her and Jay's communication skills and some pep talk about taking to your spouse and her fiancée's opinion mattering more than his. She got that. Her and Jay were working on that. A lot. They'd have to work on it even more now. It was forcing them too. Maybe that wasn't a bad thing. But just because Jay was her partner didn't mean that she didn't want Hank's thoughts. She thought he should take advantage of that because most of the time she really didn't want to sit there and hear his opinion. His dad or boss lectures. But right now – she did. On a lot of levels.

He must've at least sensed that because he allowed a narrow smile. "Looks like a nice place to visit my grandkids," he allowed.

She looked away quickly again at him phrasing it that way and flipped around the listing to bring up the floor plan of the unfinished basement. "I thought, how hard would it be to put some walls up down here? That's at least another room. Maybe a couple," she tried to change topics.

Hank smiled a bit more at that and gazed at the phone, casting her a look. "Since when did you get so handy?"

"How hard can it be?" she said and looked at the photo again.

Hank made a little snort of suppressed amusement. She knew he was likely rolling his eyes at her already creating a honey-do list for Jay before the house had even been bought. But really? How hard could it be? She'd help. She was pretty sure between the two of them, her and Jay could figure it out.

But then she could feel him eyeing her and moved her eyes back from the listing to him. He reached and cupped the back of her head that he only did so rarely with her. Tender moments that came few and far between. At least the ones that involved outright physical affection.

"I'm proud of you, Kid," he allowed.

It took her off-guard a bit and him disclosing it brought that familiar sting to her eyes – because he only said it so often and it was an affirmation that she still needed to hear from him. She probably always would on some level.

"Hank …"

He gave his head a little shake and gave her hair a small stroke before he let his hand fall away, looking at her firmly. "I am, Erin," he stressed, reaching and giving her hand a squeeze that time instead. "And I know sometimes you don't like how I operate. Know sometimes you feel a little dumped on with your brother. Yesterday …" he said and shook his head in somewhere between vague disappointment in himself and an apology. "But know that I appreciate all you do for him. For our family. And that I'm real proud of the woman you've become. The way you're conducting yourself. Living your life."

She eyed him a little teary. Pregnancy was definitely making her a bit more weepy than usual. Not as much control over her emotions. She wondered if he'd be as proud of her if he knew what her and Jay had gotten themselves into at the moment. But she could tell the statement wasn't so much about her as it was about him – because his eyes had a glassy, faraway look to them as he said it. And he shook his head again, giving her hand a final pat with his on her thigh before letting go and crossing his arms over his chest to stare out her bedroom window.

She let out a shaky sigh and gazed at him. "Hank …," she tried. "What's going on?" He just grunted. "What happened in Fort Campbell? Why were you even in Fort Campbell?"

He gave a little sigh and shook his head, crossing his arms even tighter against himself before looking at her. "Your brother's got himself into some kind of mess again," he put flatly.

She gazed at him, processing that. "What kind of mess?"

Hank shook his head and let out a bigger sigh and went back to looking out the window. "Don't know. Won't tell me."

"Then why—" she started but his eyes came back to her harshly.

"J was in town the weekend before the Fourth," he put bluntly.

She squinted at him. "What? Why?"

Hank shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know."

"Then … how do you even know?"

"He was at the social club. Some guys there saw him."

Erin processed that more. It was a pretty unstated rule that Hank didn't want them going into the social club without him. That that connection – those family involvements – were going to end with him. He didn't want another generation of Voights owing something to anyone in there. Getting mixed up with the kind of people who were members there. Being drawn into that life and falling into debts that never really got repaid and connections that you couldn't ever really fully severe. Them being his kids was going to make it hard enough for them to ever fully disassociate themselves from that place and the people there. There'd always be some connection. But Hank was doing his best not to nurture. They might know some of the guys from the social club. It might be unspoken that if they needed something – they were people they could go to, but likely shouldn't. But it didn't change the fact that Hank hadn't encouraged them hanging around in there. Not as errand running gophers in their teens and not as members now that they were adults.

"Why was he—"

"I don't know," Hank pressed at her again, his face creasing with anger. He realized his outburst and rubbed his hand down his face.

"Well … Olive had said that they were going to start coming up on the weekends to look for places," Erin tried. "He's said that he's gone out to talk to—"

Hank cast her a look. They both knew that Justin's disappearing act on Ethan's birthday and over the Fourth weekend – in the night – didn't seem very plausible for his explanation that he was meeting with some friends who were helping him get something squared away on housing for in the fall. Not in the middle of the night. Maybe they might've been able to buy that on Ethan's birthday. But on the Fourth of July? That'd been less plausible.

"He's calling some woman," Hank pushed at her.

"Hank … you aren't still monitoring his phone—"

"Olive saw it," he spat.

Erin let out a little sigh and shrugged. "Lots of real estate agents are women, Hank," she offered. "And he could just have female friends too …"

Hank let out an unimpressed grunt at that and stared out the window.

Erin let out a slow breath. "Hank, you likely shouldn't jump to conclusions."

He cast her an annoyed look and crossed his arms even tighter until his elbows bounced with the grip. "I thought I raised all of you better than that," he rasped as his eyes shifted back to the window. "Not perfect. But tried to set an example–-"

"You've got to stop being so hard on yourself," Erin interrupted him firmly. Repeating words he'd used with her more than once in her life. His eyes shifted to her. "You did set an example," she told him more gently. "And for all the ways Justin still has to grow up. For as much as he can treat us like shit. That's not how he is with Olive and Henry, Hank. I know you see that. He loves them and he's really trying to be a good father and husband. So don't make assumptions about what's going on."

Hank gazed at her and then scrubbed at his face. "He won't talk to me."

"Hank …," Erin sighed. "That's just how you two are. You did tough love with him and … now … he tries to be the tough guy with you."

Hank just looked at her. There was so much regret written across his face that it hurt her. Because she knew how much he loved all his kids. How hard he tried. The sacrifices he made. And how some of that had more than blown up in his face. But it was just him trying the best he knew how. It wasn't always perfect. Sometimes it was harsh and overbearing. But it was just the best he knew. She'd learned to accept that. She'd learned that she wasn't always going to like him. She wasn't always going to like his decisions. That even if she argued with him, he wasn't necessarily going to budge from them. That he had his own moral code. He operated in his own little grey area of what was right and wrong and he held everyone around him to those standards. Sometimes she hated that. There'd been moments in her life – when she was younger – that she hated him. That she'd had a love-hate relationship with him. This co-dependence on him that she despised. But that she knew she needed for her stability too. She'd grown to accept all of that for what it was. But she had some years and maturity and life experiences on Justin. He was still getting there and he had a whole different experience with life with Hank as a father and as a son.

She thought he was making progress. Slowly. That he was coming to terms with that relationship. That he was trying to work out what he wanted it to look like with him now an adult. With him now as a husband and father himself. That maybe he was starting to understand a bit better the who and why behind the way Hank was – and was with him. But he still had a long way to go. And they all just needed to work through it. They were all learning how to communicate again – as adults, as a family. They were still finding their normal and they'd be finding it again when Justin and Olive's move was complete. Again when her and Jay really did tie the knot and the baby arrived. It'd be more – new – dynamics to deal with. A changed family. A different family. But they were still the family that Hank and Camille had created. They all still wanted to be a part of that. They just needed to learn to work in its newly defined boundaries.

"Olive wants to come back early," Hank allowed mutely.

Erin's eyes darted as she examined him in that statement. "The boxes," she put flatly.

He nodded and let out an annoyed breath. "J says it's for the best. Won't say why. Just that fuckin' line again. 'Not a kid, can handle my own business.'"

"So let him handle his own business," Erin said firmly. "He's not a little kid. You've outright told him that you don't want him in the house unless he can be an adult. You got upset with me for waving the white flag at Ethan's birthday. Because I didn't make him take responsibility for his actions. He says he wants to take care of his own business now. Let him."

"Think Olive and H are going to have to move in until things get sorted," he muttered.

Erin shook her head firmly at that and glared at him. "Hank, no!" He shot angered eyes at her but she just drilled her own right back. "You always do this. You bail him out. You don't let him feel the repercussions of his fuck ups."

"He went to Statesville," he put to her.

She glared harder. "After you'd protected him from the same charges multiple times. After you fuckin' put your career on the line to try to keep him out of prison. Blew through the insurance money on his legal fees. You went to jail too, Hank. You got fuckin' shanked. You nearly died for him and then you still fuckin' set it up so he'd have protection in prison. Got our family more in debt to … who, Hank? The Outfit? And Justin fucks it up again when he gets out – early, with you having his record expunged. You getting him in the military was bailing him out. You taking care of Olive when she showed up unannounced saying it's Justin's baby – that's you bailing him out. Over and over."

"I protect you and E the same way," he smacked.

She shook her head. "No, Hank. You let us fall on our faces and then you help us get back up. It's different. Olive wants to come ahead of Justin early. Justin thinks that's best. He says he can handle his own business. So let him handle his own business. You aren't a fucking bed and breakfast. Them being in the house for a couple months is not going to be good for any of you."

"Where am I supposed to tell my daughter-in-law and grandson to go?" he glared at her.

Erin shrugged. "Her aunt's?"

"She's not all there," Hank said dismissively.

Erin shook her head and looked at him. "Then tell Justin he better fuckin' getup here and sign a lease so his wife and son have a place to live."

Hank grunted. "I'll find them a place…"

"Hank," she barked again but was interrupted by Ethan's body flopping on the bed behind her.

She looked over her shoulder to gazed at his flaked out body. Face down. Ass in the air. He slowly turned his head their direction.

"Dad, I want one of my pills," he moaned.

Hank made another noise. It was just so fucking clear he was done that weekend. His head wasn't on straight. He wasn't parenting. Not the way he usually did. He was just in fucking crisis mode – which with him was gut reaction. That seemed to usually get their family in some shit.

So she intervened, reaching and rocking Eth's shoulder. "Eth, you don't want to take one of these pills at this point tonight. You'll be all stoned for school."

"So …," he whined at her.

"So," she said and gave him stern eyes. "You still want to do that coding camp at Field?" He squinted at her. It was a yes. "Then this is the deal. You're going to get through the rest of summer school without complaining. Doing your homework. Getting your grades up to where they need to be so you aren't repeating the year. And I will pay for the camp. But if you're giving me or Jay or your dad a hard time about anything to do with school – then that's not happening. No camp. And I'm gonna bet you'll likely have to do the August session of summer school and probably repeat Grade Seven too."

He scowled momentarily at her but then softened a bit. "You'll really pay?"

"I'll really pay," she said even though she could feel Hank bristling next to her. But it was like a $160 bucks. She could afford it. And it might be just enough of a bribe to make all their lives easier. And they really fucking needed this summer to be easier. "But for you to earn that, you aren't going to want to be stoned out of your head on painkillers in class when you don't need to be. What I think you need right now, is to go take a shower and cool down while your dad starts dinner. Then you're going to get back under your heating blanket, watch a movie without busting your dad's balls, and go to bed at a decent hour."

He gazed at her and then flopped his head away, sprawling out on the bed again. She reached and gave him a little smack just above his ass.

"Hey," he grumbled and cast her a look over his shoulder. "That's molestation."

"You don't have the first clue what molestation is," she said.

"Unwanted touching," he spat.

She grinned at him. "Oh?" she said and leaned over so she could really reach him, poking him in the ribs and giving him a tickle until he protested even more while involuntarily snickering and wriggling away from her. "Unwanted touching, huh?" He gave her that smart-assed little boy grin so she just poked him in the ribs more. "Do we have a deal?"

He shrugged but she knew it was a yes. So she just nodded and moved to stand, giving Hank's shoulder a squeeze.

"Erin, don't go," Ethan whined at her.

She gave him a thin smile and hooked her index finger around his as she rounded the bed, giving his arm a little shake. "I think you're both overtired and grouchy. So you're going to cool down, eat, sleep and get your heads on straight. And I'll talk to you both again tomorrow."

She cast Hank a look. He gave her a thin lips. But it was enough of an acknowledgement that he was at least vaguely listening to her stance on things. Some days that's all she could really ask. Being heard, even if she wasn't listened to.

"Night," she said, heading out of the room and toward the door, as Eth let out another pathetic whimper. But she had her own things – her other family – to get back to that night. Her own drama and issues – that she didn't really need impacted by these drama and issues.

But Hank must've at least understood that too, because all she got in reply was, "Night, Kiddo." And that was enough.


	136. Trust Issues

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 119 - Handling It.**

 ***** CONTENT WARNING **** THIS CHAPTER IS AN M.**

Erin startled out of letting the water stream down through her hair and face – cooling and soothing her. Trying to wash all the stress of the weekend away. Trying not to think about any of it in that moment. Just focusing on the feel of the water in her hair. On her face. Down her back. Her eyes tightly shut. But she was pulled out of all of that as the shower curtain clattered open.

Her eyes bolted open and she instinctively covered herself, only to see Jay smiling mischievously at her. Stepped over the edge of the tub and into shower with her – him and his sculpted body.

"You look like you saw a ghost," he teased her.

"You move like a ghost," she said, giving him a small smack, as he nudged her out of the way and under the stream of water himself. He needed it more than her in that moment. His skin was already gleaning with sweat. He'd gone out for a run while she'd gone over to her condo to get Hank and Ethan set up there. She didn't know who the fuck ran in this heat and humidity – without specifically needing to. She saw people doing it, but she figured they were some sort of crazies. Apparently her partner – her finance, the father of her unborn child – was on that list. "I didn't hear you come back. You scared me."

He thread his hands through his already matted hair a couple times, letting the spray really wet it down. "I'm real scary," he told her.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. He could be. He didn't scare her. But she knew there were a whole host of people that he did his best to scare shitless. To pull that tough guy stance and voice and asshole demeanor with. He likely pulled it off too well. But she'd more than learned that Jay was very selective about the people he liked. And even more selective about the people he trusted.

"You know what that coach house doesn't have?" he put to her, as she snuck forward a bit to get him to share some of the spray he was now hogging. "A walk-in shower with dual steam heads."

She rolled her eyes at him. He'd be so opposed to even considering a condo until they'd gone to one of the new developments over in University Village – way too fucking close to Hank's in her opinion – and the place had a master bath that was likely bigger than the master bedroom, which pretty much looked like it'd barely fit either of their beds and she wasn't planning on easily giving up her queen-sized pillow-top, memory form mattress for the double that she thought he'd likely pulled from a thrift shop – if not from a fucking dumpster from someone moving out of the building as he moved in. But he didn't care about the bedroom size or the view or the proximity to Hank's and Ethan babysitting duties or the granite top counters in the kitchen or how close it was to Med and is brother's condo or that the staged unit they were looking at was only a one bedroom, which didn't get them any farther ahead than what they were in the moment. He only cared about that fucking bathroom when he saw it. Specifically the shower. Whatever the fuck it was. It looked way to fancy for Erin. She didn't need her bathrooms that fancy. It wasn't like she spent a lot of time in there and it was just another room to clean. This one a particularly large room to clean. And cleaning the bathroom was a gross enough chore as it was without enlarging those duties.

He hadn't stopped talking about the fancy shower with the whatever and the whatever. Good to know where his priorities were at. Should've known. He got so finicky about everything she did and didn't do in the bathroom. Apparently there were certain morning and hygiene routines that were completely unacceptable to perform in the bedroom or the kitchen. He clearly hadn't had to be in a one bathroom with two adults and two brothers all competition for time to use it in the morning or evening or any other time of the day. Besides, who wanted to do their hair or make-up in the same place that some male in your life just took a massive shit. And then when she did honor his requests of 'can't you just do that in the bathroom', he'd get all grossed out about her not leaving the space pristine. Apparently not wiping out the sink for any stray toothpaste, leaving any stray hair in any drain or God forbid on the wall of the shower stall, and not wiping down the mirror of any stray spittle was a near mortal sin. You didn't want to hear his reaction if she forgot to flush the toilet after her shower. He also apparently hadn't lived in a house where you didn't flush until after the shower so as to not get sprayed with ice water. But the man also kept a fucking squeegee in his shower stall and used it – striking out any streaks or possible mildew – after every bath. It was ridiculous. She'd definitely decided that when they did move in together, he was in charge of bathroom cleaning, because there was no way she was ever going to live up to his standard of bathroom cleanliness. It'd likely become a bane of her existence. But he was worse than Hank – and that said something.

"The full bathroom was nice," she said. "And the bathroom on the main floor had a walk-in shower."

He made a mildly horrified face at her. "Erin, that was a half-bath with a shower stall slapped in there, likely from Home Depot."

"What? Can't you get a whatever and whatever to add to it at the Home Depot?" she teased, her hands landing on his hips and giving him an extended onceover.

Jay was always sculpted. Near disgustingly so. But right now, after his work-out, all his muscles were still pumped, showing them off even more.

She wasn't her she'd really known that real men – ones that weren't professional athletes or spent their days in the gym likely combined with some sort of steroids – could really truly look like that. None of the guys she'd been with in the past had come close to it. Not those abs. Not those pecs. Not that Adonis belt, just further highlighting his abs and his pelvis and those muscular legs of his. Though, that V was drawing her eyes more to exactly where it was pointing – his penis.

She wouldn't exactly say he was ready to go but this wasn't Jay in a lax state either. But Jay getting home from a workout and being ready to get laid wasn't exactly unheard of. Apparently taking his only vainly pent up aggression out on boxing bags or the pavement just upped his testosterone enough that he'd be quick to try to initiate. She'd been having none of it the past week or so, though. She'd used the tired and work excuse. But really, she supposed, it'd turned out that she'd been using the baby excuse.

They'd almost made up for the lost time and all the emotions – fear, anxiety, excitement – pulsing through them the night before. But then Hank had to roll in and put an end to that. Now, though, the half-ways heaviness of him bobbing there made her want to reach out and touch him but she restrained herself – knowing that if she touched him when he didn't want it, he'd just shutdown.

She could feel him watching her stare, though, and glanced back up at him to see his soft eyes and slightly agape mouth he got when he was doing his mental calculation of how to make his move. How to respect her but ravish her too. So she just gave him a small smile and he tilted forward, finding her lips and kissing her. It was a test run. She could tell he was trying to gauge her willingness. Breaking and parting only to return. As he measured where her head was at. To pick up on their rhythm to decide just what was going to happen next.

She put her finger to her lips as they broke apart and he smiled down at her. That kind, gentle smile that she knew she was only a short list of people that actually received it. And that she was on an exclusive list that received it quite that way. That one with the little glint in his eye. The twinkle there. The one that won her over but also gave away just how much he cared about her. Loved her – even though he wasn't one to verbalize it to her on a daily basis. But she didn't need him to. He showed her in a whole host of other ways that were far more meaningful.

"You still tasty salty," she said, dragging her finger along her lips before running it down his bicep in an effort to help the water wash away the sweat a bit more. Though, she thought it was likely a useless endeavor. She had a feeling they were both going to be getting sweaty again real soon.

"You mean I taste sweaty," he cocked his eyebrow at her. "You know, I'm pretty sure that's some sort of aphrodisiac."

She smiled. "A documentary tell you that?"

"I think NPR," he provided.

"Sex with Sue?" she teased.

He grinned and shook his head, leaning in closer to her mouth again. "Sex with Erin," he rattled before, capturing her lips again.

They kissed longer this time. Deeper. There hands both exploring each others wet, naked bodies more thoroughly. Languid caresses and light touches as the water continued to beat down on the both of them. The showerhead in Jay's dark, dingy apartment and dated bathroom wasn't so bad. Ample spray and a nice massaging water pressure. Form and function. Like him.

As Erin's hand ran down his chest – feeling each of those still taunt abs, she settled her hand on his hip. But only for a moment before letting it drop farther and run down his thigh, creeping to its inner side. It was only fair. His hands and lips had moved to her neck and her breasts and tickling against the thin, sensitive skin along her ribs. Thinking straight was getting harder. But she didn't feel like thinking too much in that moment. She'd done way too much thinking that weekend. They could hit pause for a few minutes at least.

Her hand came up to his groin, tickling gently there with light strokes to see how he'd react. But he didn't pull away. He didn't stop what he was doing to her body. His mouth actually moved back to hers, his hands angling her neck just slightly, his fingers threading in her hair, so he could kiss her a bit deeper. So she took it as an invitation to bypass his penis and move her hand to caress carefully at his scrotum. Because even though he had a whole lot of rules about his dick, his balls seemed to be within limits.

She weighed them in her palm. His erection was way more than a halfways bob now. And as he pressed closer to her, it pressed between them. She tugged gently at his balls, her thumb still making careful swipes across the skin. He just kissed her even more passionately, his hands coming down to her hips and pulling her even more firmly against her. His erection pressing even more demandingly against her navel.

She reached again and this time moved her hand to caress at the sensitive skin and engorged nerves just behind his scrotum. Another spot she was allowed to touch – as long as she didn't touch much farther back than that. But a spot that drew a groan from him as her fingers carefully massaged there. Stimulated the already aroused area.

It'd been almost embarrassing for him the first time she'd touch him there. He was likely closer to climax than he'd thought at the moment. He was trying to hold back. And then her hand had ended up there and he'd lost it. He'd thought he'd cum too quickly and had been mortified and apologetic at the same time. He'd kept muttering in his embarrassed apology that he didn't need to be giving that it'd just come on so strong and fast. It'd been pretty clear that he hadn't been touched there before.

But there were a lot of times where it was clear that Jay hadn't done a lot of things. It wasn't that he was inexperienced. Because he wasn't. He was good in bed. It was just that it was super clear to her that he had his little routine and she suspected that he'd never let himself be with anyone long enough to have them question or notice too much that he had so much hesitation about deviating from the moves he knew. The boundaries he'd set. His comfort zone. That he'd run away before he had to provide explanation. Before he had to try anything else. Or meet someone's needs in another way. Or let them try to help him meet his.

For all the flak he spat about his brother running away from things – Jay did too. He just did it in a different way. He built up walls. He held people at arm's length. He was closed off with most. He internalized. He was a loner. And he tried so hard to to deviate from that. To protect himself with the illusion he was also protecting those around him by doing it. Saving them from pain too. But it was still running away. It just wasn't the physical bolting that Will had adopted.

But knowing that. Seeing that in him. It made Erin love him more. Because as many walls as he did have with her. As measured as he was about his past. He was also slowly dropping his walls. Bit by bit. He was letting her help him crack them.

And for something like this? That little splotch of sensitive skin that she knew without him saying that she was the only one who'd ever been allowed to touch it. The only one that he trusted enough to do it again – because as embarrassed he'd been in the moment, he'd also liked how it made him feel. So they were sharing and exploring together. Learning each other's boundaries and carefully working at breaking them down. They were trusting each other. Growing as people and a people. And she needed that as much as he did.

His hand came up and ran his rough fingertips down her neck, him breaking the kiss to gaze at her. His eyes were dilated with his arousal. She gave him a small smile and trailed her hand forward to go back to weighing and caressing at his scrotum. She liked getting him going but she wasn't about to try to press him over the edge yet.

"You know, some of the pregnancy sites I've been looking at say that, right around the end of the first trimester, you're supposed to get really horny," he graveled at her.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "That was one of the first things you Googled about all this?"

He gave her a little grin. "It just came up," he said.

"Mmm," she nodded, a smile pulling at her lips. "Well, you should likely enjoy it now. Before I turn into a blimp."

"Stop," he said gently and leaned in to kiss her. His hand moving from her hip to settle against her abdomen and their growing baby – somewhere down in there. "You're growing our family. That's amazing."

"Mmm …," she allowed again and rested her forehead against his chest. Because she didn't want to think or talk about it more in that moment. She just needed more time to wrap her head around it all. It was a lot to wrap your head around. You'd think it wouldn't be when you were a thirty-year-old woman. That it'd sort of be an expected reality. But this isn't what she'd ever really expected her reality to look like. It was going to take some time to adjust to it. To get used to it. To get her head on straight about it. She wasn't going to accomplish that in a weekend. That was a whole lot of processing and emotions to work through.

"Besides, you're supposed to be really horny in your third trimester too," Jay said.

She cast her eyes back up to him. "When I really am a blimp?" she said. "I doubt that."

"Stop," he said gently again – but with a more forceful firmness - and bent to capture lips to make sure she really did listen that time.

She let him deepen it. She enjoyed it. She went back to focusing on that. The feel of his tongue. The taste of him. The feeling of his hands. The feel of his body under her hands. That growing arousal at her apex. And that growing demand he had pressing against her.

He broke the kiss briefly and she gazed at him through the spray and her own arousal heavy eyelids. "You know, if you really want to be getting laid in the third trimester of this thing, we're likely going to have to expand our position repertoire a bit."

He grinned at that. His hand ran down, squeezing her ass, before it looped under her thigh and suddenly he had her up at his waist.

"Like this?" he asked.

She smiled more at that and leaned in to find his mouth again. "It's a start," she mumbled against him.

But before she'd even got it out, she stopped because he'd bounced her gently and angled her perfectly – and they were together. Him pressing her back against the tiling. His legs spread firmly and feet planted squarely and he pressed into her more, taking her breath away as his tongue matched the rhythm up top that he was starting below.

And then it was just that. The tile against her back. The warm water against her skin. And him – inside her. His breathe shared with hers. Just them. The family they were making. The trust they were establishing.

And in that moment, that was all she wanted to think about. All she wanted to feel.

It was all that mattered.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: The next Erin/Jay chapter will be them talking a bit more about the pregnancy and relationship and future and whatnot. But I'm likely going to be doing a few other chapters/backtracking before getting to that. Sorry. I know some of you are anxious to read that one.**

 **I've got some Hank chapters and some Ethan chapters that I want to get to. Possibly a Jay/Ethan chapter. Figuring out where it'd go in the sequence.**


	137. What You Can Offer

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 122 - Trust Issues.**

Hank let out a little sigh and eyed Erin's sliding bedroom door as he heard his son struggling to get it to push open – just portraying where he was at in terms of weakness and fatigue at that point. But the kid finally managed to get it open and stood there gazing at him through the dim light that was coming in from the street below.

Should likely have closed the blinds but Erin's blinds were a real pain the ass. She'd just kept whatever the fuck the previous owner had installed in there and you could barely pull them across without one of the vinyl slabs falling to the floor. Then it was an even bigger pain in the ass to try to get those fucking things to stay stiff enough so you could ram them back up into the little sliding notches. There flimsiness was evidenced further by the fucking bits of cereal box that Erin had taped on them because they'd fallen and had to be rammed back up so many times that they'd broken and she'd just hodge-podged some remedy together in an attempt to save them rather than replace them. That kid made things last – even though she was so fucking hard on them. But the whole blind set-up was fucking bullshit. So he didn't even try touching the things. Instead he was trying to sleep on a couch in a fucking fish bowl.

"What Ethan?" Voight grumbled as he saw the kid fidget like he was trying to decide if he was awake. But the fidgeting stopped with that demand and he didn't get an answer. "You going to take a leak?" Voight asked instead – because that was about the only reason he was going to tolerate the kid out of bed at that point.

"No …," E allowed quietly. "I just can't sleep." Voight let out a small groan and rubbed at his face from his position on the couch. "Can I watch TV with you?"

"Ethan," he pressed firmly, "I'm not watching TV. I'm trying to get some shut eye."

"But it's hard to sleep at Erin's," he whined.

Voight let out another sound of annoyance and propped himself up a bit to look at the kid. But Magoo just took that as an invitation to come over and perch himself on the edge of the sofa – gazing at him more. Likely thinking that now that he'd placed himself there he was going to get his way since they weren't on their home turf. Didn't quite work that way, though. Was going to work that way even less now because E's appearance had prompted the fucking mutt to get up too and now he was shoving his wet nose and dog breath in his face too.

"Ethan, you've got A/C. You've got a nice big bed in there," Voight said.

"I don't like her bed," E argued. "It's too big and it feels weird."

"It doesn't feel weird," Voight said. "It feels expensive."

Eth gazed at him with confusion. The fucking kid likely didn't realize how dated his mattress was. Had been on the fucking bunk beds since before they needed bunk beds. Since J was a little kid and bounced between the top and bottom bunk at will. Knew he should likely upgrade the thing – even from a dander and mould standpoint, if not from the fucking springs in your back, cheap as you can buy for a little boy more than twenty years go standpoint.

Really should've upgraded since this whole M.S. thing. But it was another thing that was on the list. Necessity he'd get to but there were other ones they had to deal with first. And, Eth didn't seem to think there was a problem with his bed. If anything, he thought anything that wasn't his bed was uncomfortable. Likely didn't realize that Erin's mattress wasn't more than a few years old and had all the bells and whistles when it came to creature comforts of counting sheep. Just knew he didn't like it.

"Well, her and Jay sleep in it when they're here," Eth said.

Voight let out a sigh and scrubbed at his face. "Ethan, we changed the sheets. It's fine. No different than you crawling into my bed."

"You don't sleep with other people in your bed," Ethan said.

Voight let out a noise and let himself lay back on his back to stare at the ceiling. _Yea, no kidding, Kiddo._ He was pretty fucking acutely aware that the only other person he'd had literally sleeping in his bed in nearly six years was his youngest.

"You want to sleep on the couch?" Voight muttered.

He could feel his kid light up at that even though he wasn't looking at him. "With you? To watch TV?"

"No," Voight said sternly. And now that the kid had even tested that water again, if he did agree to sleep on the couch, the remote would be coming with him and he'd try to figure out how to unplug that shitty TV that Erin had perched up on that shelf about that stupid fake fireplace that she had seemed to think was just that cat's shit when she got the fucking place. Now it was just a fucking dunce shelf to stash away the TV – where you couldn't reach any of the cords, and just mucked up the picture with the fucking shadows it cast it while making the damn think always look like it was just waiting to take a tumble. "To sleep. I'll go lay down in the bedroom."

The kid slumped again. "I can't sleep, Dad," he said.

"Ethan," Voight said, sitting up and giving him an even sterner look. "You need to sleep. That's why we're here. I need to get a proper night's rest too. OK?"

"I'm hurting too much," Ethan lamented.

Voight scrubbed at his face and lifted his wrist to look at his watch. Fucking twelve-thirty. So much for trying to get his kid eight or nine hours that night. Going to be sending him into school again fucking exhausted. Fuck, he'd be heading into work feeling like he'd been up all night – all fucking weekend – because he had. That didn't have you facing in the right direction to be doing the job.

"Magoo, I really don't want to be giving you any of your pain meds at this point in the night, alright? You aren't going to want to get up for me in the morning and you'll sit in class acting like you're up on the moon."

His son just frowned at him. "Can't I just take some Advil or something?"

"Yea, sure," Voight muttered and hoisted himself from the couch. "If you think that's going to help."

He nudged past his son and trudging to Erin's bathroom. He hesitated in front of the medicine cabinet. The kid had made a point to put to him not to get too nosy in her place. Didn't really think she'd have much kicking around he didn't want – or need – to see. Thought they were pretty much past that. Was trusting her. But with the pregnancy vibe that her and Halstead were giving off, likely didn't want to risk seeing something he wasn't meant to. Stir up some shit and tension between them all. Was going to be more than enough of that the next while, he thought. So likely best just to respect his grown daughter's privacy and not go riffling through her medicine cabinet, even if it was just to get Magoo some ibuprofen – if she had. Knew she'd shied away from the pills – even that basic stuff – since that banana peel a year ago. But he wasn't going to argue with that. Saw a lot of that stuff as just a crutch anyway. Though, hard to see it that way anymore when he was feeding his youngest pills by the handful.

Still, he let his hand fall away from the mirror and turned to move out of the room, near ploughing into Magoo and Bear, who'd both trailed after him like puppies. Always underfoot. But he just nudged past them both again, E giving him a questioning look.

"Should have some in my bag," he rasped. "You want some of your magnesium too?"

"OK …" E agreed meekly.

Had got the kid convinced that magnesium helped out with his muscle contradiction. Supposed it was technically supposed. Among other things. Mostly giving the kid the supplement was, in theory, supposed to keep his magnesium up which was, in theory, supposed to keep his M.S. symptoms from getting too aggravated. Wouldn't quite say he thought that was working that summer. Fucking up hill battle with all these flare up in the heat. But did like that that mag calmed the kid down and knocked him out – more naturally than some of the other shit – pretty good. So he'd take that. Try to get them both some sleep.

Voight dug through the overnight bag he'd tossed some of his and Eth's things in. Thankfully he had tossed some of the OTC stuff into the fucking evidence bag that had become the standard way to tote Magoo's pharmacy around with them when they were outside the house. Such fucking bullshit. Took a bit to rectify in your head that you had one kid who was still a recovering addict all these years later. Had another kid who was moving past a drinking problem – or more. Technically the both of them at times. And now he had his third kid dependent on all these medications and injections and supplements and vitamins to even get him to vaguely function in daily life. Some sort of fucking cruel joke the world played on you. Spent years keeping that stuff out of the house to now have enough of it that he could likely operate his own pharmacy under the table and make a decent side income.

As he went back to the bathroom, he pushed his son in the door and toward the sink, giving the faucet a nod for him to get it going and get a glass of water ready to wash these pills down while he opened the bottles and got out things out.

Still was so uncomfortable letting E manage his own meds. Had some of the therapists and doctors and social workers at him about starting to teach him those skills. Pass those responsibilities to him. That would want him managing some of it by the time he was in high school. That most kids should take on the bulk of it by the time they were about sixteen because you wanted to have them comfortable with dealing with their meds and their own medical appointments – managing their disease – by the time they were taking off to college. Thing was Voight just wasn't ready to trust his son with all that yet. Wasn't even really ready to trust him with any of it yet. Not after what they'd been through with his other kids. Not after Eth's slip up a year ago. Not when he tried to fit in too much and would do stupid shit to try to jive with other kids. Especially with him hanging around some older kids these days with Robotics and the boxing gym and even the ball team. Didn't want any little shits trying to manipulate him.

And the rest of it was just as much bullshit. Because right now – with the fucking hell they were slogging through with summer school – he was having trouble believing that his kid would even be heading into Eighth Grade in the fall. That made it pretty hard to think about him graduating from high school on time or him getting into college. Even if he did find a way to get all this to work out for his boy – and his boy did still want to go to college when it was all said and done – Voight wasn't about to encourage him to venture out of the city let alone out of state. E wasn't going to be ready to manage his disease on his own at eighteen. No matter how much independence he demanded of that kid – what bullshit the people at RIC and Med spouted at him – his kid was always going to need some kind of help.

He handed E the pills and watched as the kid sucked them down. Took him a couple gulps but he did it. He allowed his son something that resembled a smile at that – and placed his hands against the kid's forehead, weighing if anything else was potentially going on. But the kid actually felt reasonably cool. A hell of a lot cooler than how clammy he got at the house.

"So what do you think?" Voight put to him. "Think a shower might help a bit with that pain?"

Ethan shook his head and gave him those sad eyes again. Fucking struck at him when he did that. So fucking hated he couldn't fix it. Hated more when he was in this rock and hard place about weighing what extra meds to give him when. How to best try to manage things in a way that kept him functional as well as functional. Learning that didn't always mean the same thing. That you didn't always get to have your body functional and your brain functional. That sometimes you needed to make choices about which it was going to be. But hard to do that with a little kid when you knew he was hurting. Reached a point that you just felt like an ass telling him to tough it out. To grit his teeth and bear it. To man up. Because he also knew that Magoo didn't whine at him about every little thing. That he did a pretty decent job about the whole toughing it out, gritting his teeth and manning up thing. A real good job for a thirteen year old boy. So if he was saying he was hurting – he was really hurting.

But where do you draw the line as a parent? Where's the hurt end and it becomes OK to see your bright little boy walking around like a fucking zombie? Worked so hard after his brain injury to get those lights to come back on in his eyes. To get the speech to come out of his mouth. To get things to click in that head. It fucking hurt to be feeding him shit that made all that fade out of his eyes. For the lights to go out and for this fucking astronaut – off in a different universe – to be sitting across from you. To be flunking out of school even when you had him on an IEP. Dragging him tooth and nail.

And now how much was he gong to be able to drag him if Olive and H were headed home? How much time was he going to have to balance work, Magoo and whatever this was that J had fucked up with his family? And now Erin … pregnant? Not that he thought she had any intention of letting him in on that. But it'd be something that he'd have to deal with with her at some point in the near future to at least get her sorted at work. There was just another fucking thing to deal with.

His girl was right. Their family lived in fucking crisis mode. As soon as he thought they were leveling out – it was just something else. Never-ending succession of bullshit. But life wasn't fair.

"OK," Voight nodded, though. "So you ready to head back to bed?" Those eyes just stayed on him. So he just put his hand on his boy's shoulder and guided him out of the bathroom. Back to the bedroom. Untangled the covers from some of his tossing and turning and then nodded at him. "Get back in," he ordered.

E gave him a defeated sigh but listened. Kid knew it was too late in the night for them to get in a pissing match. Likely was hurting too much to bother too, when they both knew who won and it wasn't the kid in the room.

Voight reached and tucked the blankets around his boy real good and reached to turn the heating blanket back on. It'd either timed out or Magoo had turned it off. But the heat usually soothed him some to get him to rest. A/C was definitely cranked enough that he didn't think being under the heat was going to overheat him too much.

"OK," Voight said and gave his stomach a pat. "Get some rest."

"Stay with me," E near whimpered at him before he got more than two steps away from the bed. Voight let out a grunt and cast him a bit of an annoyed look. "Just 'til I sleep, Dad. Please. I'm really hurting."

Hank sighed and gazed at his kid for a long beat, giving his face another scrub but then let him win out on that round. Moved over to the other side of the bed and pulled back the sheets, got in. Bed was a hell of a lot more comfortable than sleeping on the damn couch anyways. Didn't like that furniture choice much in her place either. She bought random fucking shit. All about the way it looked, not about the way it functioned. Fucking mish-mash out of home and décor magazines, antique shops and flea markets rather than just investing in some half-decent shit that made fucking sense for the space and in their utility.

He'd barely settled before E had scooted across the bed and flopped his head against his shoulder. Voight reached and readjusted the heating blanket to make sure it was still wrapped around him real good and then rested his arm across Eth's shoulders, holding him tight.

But his son squirmed – near shuttered - against the grip. "That's too rough, Dad," he muttered.

Voight let out a little grunt and let his arm hesitantly fall away. That was hard lately too. His boy came looking for physical affection – reassurances – still. But whenever he so much as hugged his son, he was being told he was hurting him. Made him feel like he couldn't even do that for his boy. That even some hugs didn't make it remotely better. Just made it worse. Just made him hurt more. Caused more pain. It was an added layer of helplessness that he didn't like admitting.

"Eth, I think we've gotta get you back into the doctor next week," he said. "At least. See about getting in front of your neuro."

"Why …?" Ethan tried to whine but it again came out as more of a defeated whimper.

"Because these meds they've got you on for muscle spasticity sure don't seem to be helping you much," he said.

"Everyone just keeps saying it's pseudo flares. Because it's hot," Ethan provided mutely.

"Yea, well, I think maybe it's time we talk a bit about trying you on another med," Voight said. "We can't be having you go through the summer like this."

"You said the other medicine they wanted to put me on would make me feel like I had the flu all the time and you didn't want me to take it," E whispered.

"At this point, think it's something we should explore," Voight said, looking down his chest as his son. E was picking at a ripple in the sheets in the middle of his chest and even through the dark and that early … or late … in the day, he could see that the damn tremor was going. Fuck this fucking never-ending heat wave.

E didn't say anything, though. Just lay there fiddling with the blanket. Still clearly awake. Voight watched his unsteady movements. Listened at his kid's breathing.

"Dad …," Eth finally said after a long while. A long enough while that Voight was starting to hope that he was going to let himself fall back asleep. Or at least try.

"Mmm …," he grunted. He so just wanted to get a few hours. Three and he should be able to get through the day.

"If Olive and Henry are coming home soon does that mean we aren't doing our trip anymore?" E asked quietly.

Voight sighed and moved to staring at the ceiling. "Hadn't really thought about that much yet, Magoo," he admitted.

Ethan fidgeted against him. "Cuz I was kinda really looking forward to it. I know I said it's not Florida and stuff but I still really wanted to go. To the Slugger factory and the cave and fishing and stuff. With you."

Voight stared at the ceiling harder. Glared, really. This was just another fucking way he was failing this kid. Another fucking way he was letting him down. Disappointing him. Taking away something for him to look forward to. Something to get him to collect himself so he'd pull through. Making sure he took father-son time with his boy while he still wanted it. Set him up so he knew he could do things. That he was able. Letting him have interests. Letting him make decisions. And making some memories together. Still giving him a childhood – some summer holidays – just like his other kids got. That him and Camille had worked so hard to ensure that they got some of that stuff even if it wasn't something with Mickey Mouse or Hawaii or the Eiffel Tower tacked to its exorbitant pricetag. Now he was teetering at one of the last summers that Magoo was likely going to be amenable to doing any of this stuff for a real long time – and it was going to end up on the backburner. Sometimes Voight felt like a lot of Eth's childhood had ended up with placing those normal kid experiences on the backburner while all this grown-up shit that he shouldn't have to deal with yet just kept boiling over. Over and over again.

"E … you're just going to need to give me a few days to figure out how all this is going to work," Voight said. "Maybe more like a week or so."

E moved and gazed up at him. "But they'll still need to move, right? So we could still do the trip?"

Voight frowned – not at him but at the whole situation – and reached to grip at his boy's shoulder, even though he knew it hurt him some but he could tell his boy was hurting in other ways that moment.

"They're going to need to move sooner rather than later, E," Voight said. "You've got summer school right now. Can't be pulling you out of that for a week."

E made another little defeated sound and shifted his line of sight away from him. Though he stayed against him. Still allowing some connection, even though the pain in his kid was a bit more palpable now.

"Gonna figure out how to make this right, Magoo," Voight assured quietly. "For all of us."

Because that's about the only thing he could do. About all he could offer.

Definitely a whole lot of moments in parenting anymore that that never quite seemed like enough, though.


	138. Who You Gonna Call?

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 121 - Trust Issues.**

"I can't believe you're going to Ghostbusters without me," Mouse said with such fucking distaste as he brought his bottle to his mouth.

Jay squinted at him and rocked back more in his chair, putting his feet up on the counter. "Last I heard from you about that movie was some sort of manifesto about how awful it looked and how it was going to completely destroy your childhood."

"Yea, but it's Ghostbusters," Mouse said exaggeratedly. "Any Ghostbusters is better than no Ghostbusters."

Jay smiled around the rim of his beer. He missed this. Ever since Mouse had earned a desk upstairs, they did it a hell of a lot less. They'd been doing it even less since Voight hooked him up with the Robotics coaching staff at Ignatius and then Mouse went and hooked up with Erica on his own. Jay supposed him being in deep with Erin had something to do with it too. And Erin being in deep with Ethan. All about buy-in. But apparently it'd meant some buy-out on them tucking back some beers in the basement on city property. And, yeah, he definitely missed that.

"Did you just make some sort of backward sexual innuendo about Ghostbusters?"

"Nah," Mouse smiled widely and took another sip from his own bottle. "I don't want to get all political about the whole feminist Ghostbusters thing. I was thinking more about weed when I said it."

Jay smiled more. "Any weed is better than no weed?"

"Hell ya," Mouse agreed.

Jay rolled his eyes. "Better not let Voight hear you say that."

Mouse feigned insult. "C'mon. Don't tell me Olinsky isn't somewhere toking right now."

"Got a feeling that Al can get away with dodging any sort of random drug test a lot better than you," Jay said, taking another swig.

"Ah, c'mon, you'd piss in a cup for me if I was in a tight spot, wouldn't ya?" Mouse bantered right back at him.

Jay shrugged. "Maybe. But you might be in trouble if it came up after I have to go see this movie. Because I'm pretty sure the only way to make to endure it is to get real fucking stoned."

"Dude," Mouse sat forward with force. "That ain't enduring it. That's enhancing the experience. You've gotta watch Ghostbusters stoned. Especially lady ghostbusters with sick CGI. Gotta get Ethan on that train too."

"He's thirteen," Jay pressed at him a bit more seriously. Mouse gave him a 'so what' look. "Don't think either of you need to be promoting an more brain damage in those heads of yours."

"All medicinal," Mouse put to him bluntly.

Jay gave him a patronizing look. "Right …"

Mouse rocked back more comfortably in his seat, giving the monitors on the counter he'd flicked on – either out of habit or as an excuse to make it actually look like they had a reason to be sitting down there in the middle of the night – a cursory night.

"You know, you and Erin could invite me and Erica. Make it a three-way."

"Again, Eth is thirteen and you just included him in reference to a three-way," Jay put pointedly.

Mouse gave him a glance and a little shrug. "He's thirteen. He's old enough—"

Jay sputtered on his beer and brought the bottle away from his mouth. "OK. Just no. And thirteen isn't even old enough to be left home alone in Illinois."

Mouse cast him a look. "Seriously?"

"Yea, seriously," Jay said. "Why do you think Voight had him kicking around so much the other week? Only week he didn't get the kid set up with summer school or camp. But leave him at home, under fourteen, it's child abandonment. Patrol can pull him in. Call DCFS."

"Shit," Mouse said with a little shake of his head. "My parents were crappier than I even imagined."

"Yea … tell me about it," Jay allowed. Though, him and Will hadn't really been left at home much alone. Their mom was always there. Part of his dad's control of her life and treating the illusion that they were way more affluent than they were and could manage living in a single income home while he tried to live like they were upper class – when they barely were middle class living on the outskirts of fucking of Canaryville so they could pretend they were slightly better than that and living in Bridgeport. But they didn't grow up in no Bridgeport. That was for sure.

"So you really not going to invite us?" Mouse asked again, giving him a more serious and a nearly genuinely hurt look.

"Mouse, you don't seriously want to come. The movie looks like shit and we're basically chaperoning Ethan and his little crush."

"Yea, but, if it's like … a double-date Erica might actually go. Asking her to go see that just us …" Mouse shook his head.

Jay allowed a little snicker. "What? You think she hasn't figured out you're a total nerd?" he pressed. "You realize you met her while she was coaching a team of kids who make robots. For fun."

"Yea, it's not that. She's just very specific about movies. They have to be all girlie. I tried to tell her like clearly Lady Ghostbusters is very girlie. But that didn't go over so well."

Jay let out a louder laugh, smiling around the lip of his bottle. "Yeah, well, if you phrased it that way, I could see that maybe not going over so well."

"They are Lady Ghostbusters," Mouse said, slapping his hand down on the counter for emphasis. He might be getting to the point he'd had a bit too much to drink. They'd had more than a couple at that point on empty stomachs after a long fucking day in a long fucking week. "I don't know why people get so bent out of shape about that. Ghostbusters with boobs. What's not to like?"

"You know, maybe you should be taking Eth. It sounds like you and him communicate about women at about the same grade level," Jay said and tilted his bottle to take a longer gulp, this time finishing it off. Only to bend down and reach for another.

"Yea, ha-ha, there buddy," Mouse muttered with a little head shake.

Jay twisted the lid off his new bottle. "So really, how's it going with you and Erica?"

"Meh," Mouse grumbled and swung his chair to look at the monitors again. "She's driving me crazy."

"Oh yeah?" Jay cocked his eyebrow.

Mouse cast him an annoyed look. "Not that way," he corrected. "The whole teacher thing and her off right now. I thought it'd be awesome. But seriously she wants to do something like every night now and texts multiple times a day. I need some space. You know?"

"Mmm …," Jay allowed with a little nod, and another sip from his bottle.

Because he did. He knew Mouse and him were in their own places in their recoveries. With how they handled life after the Rangers. After Afghanistan. After some of the shit they did there. That they had to do there. That they saw there. That they'd both come back with their own scars. Different scars. That had had their own affects on their lives. That had put them through their own dark places in ways that were the same but in other ways that were very different.

But he also knew that when it came to dealing with post-traumatic stress. When it came to being a solider and living through all that. Seeing things … doing things … that a lot of people can't ever truly imagine. Sometimes you just need space. You need to be alone. You need down time. You need to decompress. You need to avoid the crowds and the noise and the constant wants and needs of other people. You just need time to yourself. To be by yourself.

The trick was to balance that against the need to be around people. Because you needed people in your life if you were going to recover. If you were going to integrate back into society and civilian life. If you were going to try to figure out how to create the illusion that you were a functional human being. That you were relatively normal. Sometimes all that was pretty fucking hard. Too much.

Sometimes it was a whole lot fucking easier to be alone. To build up wall and push people out. But it was also pretty fucking lonely and dark. And it sent you way farther into darker and lonelier places. It was hard. It was a struggle. One that Jay still struggled with himself. And he knew that Mouse had worked a lot harder to be alone than he had. That he'd had more permanent scars on him that made it harder for his brain to cope with all that modern, 'normal' civilian life demanded.

But he knew that Mouse had been doing really good since getting his civie job in Intelligence. That the structure helped. That coming out of his whole helped. That he'd grown even more since Voight got him in at Ignatius. Because as much as Mouse bitched and moaned about what a pain in the ass dealing with the kids was and how much time the whole Robotics thing took up in his evenings and weekends – the reality was that it'd given the guy another purpose. It'd given him something to do and somewhere to go – a distraction and people to be around – when he couldn't be at work. And that had provided him another bubble and buffer for protection in his recovery process. In his effort to rejoin the rest of humanity or society or however the fuck you wanted to look at it.

He thought that Erica had been good for Mouse too. Someone who'd brought him out of his shell a bit. And Jay knew from experience that having someone to care about and to care about you helped a fucking lot. He knew Erin had with him. It wasn't like he was able to talk to her about a lot of this stuff. But he wasn't really able to talk to anyone about a lot of this stuff. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk to her about it. For her to really know about it. Because she felt too much empathy sometimes and that wasn't good for her. But really that was more for an excuse for himself, because the reality was that it was more that he didn't want to see the way she looked at him if she knew. If she really knew. Because he wasn't sure she'd see him in quite the same way. That she'd look at him differently. That maybe she wouldn't be able to love him the way she loved him now.

But still, even though he had a lot of walls with Erin, he was letting them crack a bit. Sometimes. In certain areas. It was slowly working with her to maybe make those walls not quite as tall. But it was more that she'd really given him some stability of his own. Like a purpose. She wasn't his life. Not his whole life. He wasn't her whole life either. But they were an important part of each other's lives. There was a definite hole when the other wasn't around. A hurt when the other was hurting. And, more than that, she'd just really helped him deal with some of his anger and aggression.

It wasn't like that was very going to dull completely. Because he had a lot to be angry about. He had reason to be angry. But it was like she gave him permission to be fucked up. Provided some sort of reassurance that you could still be a fuck-up and still be normal. Still have value. Still live a life that had people in it. At least the important few. If you let them in.

And he had. With her. He thought Mouse needed that too. To let Erica in. To keep her in his circle. Because she made him more human.

"Trouble in paradise then?" Jay pressed carefully.

Mouse shrugged and made another little noise. "I don't know, man. She's a nice girl."

"She is a nice girl," Jay put more firmly and Mouse looked over his shoulder at him and let out a little sigh.

He fidgeted with some invisible piece of tape on the countertop, like rubbing his finger over it, pretending to scrape it off would somehow make this better.

"My sister likes her," Mouse admitted, "and you know … she doesn't like anyone."

Jay let out a quiet sound of amusement and allowed him a thin smile around his beer.

"And she's awesome with the kids. I mean, my nephews like adore her."

"Think her students do too," Jay offered.

Mouse gave a little nod and looked at him more directly, though, he was a little twitchy now. "It's just, you know, she's basically my first real relationship since …"

"Yeah … I know …" Jay acknowledged and then looked away to examine his own bottle label. "Keep working at it, bud. Think she might be worth it."

"Yea …," Mouse acknowledged quietly but then looked up carefully. "What 'bout you and Erin? Seemed like there was some …" he made a butting gesture with his two fists, "… last week in the bullpen."

Jay took a bit greater interest in his bottle at that, picking a little at the label. "Yeah, well, you know."

He really doubted Mouse did. But he wasn't in a position that he could really tell him what was really going on yet. That Erin was pregnant. That they were losing their minds with trying to settle into that reality. That they'd had a week where they were basically ripping each other's heads off while they waited for confirmation. That now that they had the confirmation they were still wrapping their heads around it and trying to figure out how to get their lives in order in the next like six months. Where they were going to live. How they were going to work. How to be fucking parents. That they were excited and scared shitless. That they still were learning how to talk about it but now it seemed like every minute they were together outside of work it was what they were talking about.

It was overwhelming. Overwhelming and so … fucking exciting. He didn't know how else to put it. What to say about it. What to think about it. How to frame it. But it was eating up a lot of his conscious mind since Saturday. Since they'd seen their baby on that screen. Heard his (he was betting) heartbeat. That it was making him feel things that he hadn't ever really felt before. Things … emotions … he wasn't entirely sure how to describe because they were so different. Or maybe because they were so far outside his usual realm of emotions. They weren't negative. They weren't aggressive. They weren't angry. They were just excited and anxious and nervous and … thrilled. And happy. He was really happy even though he was shitting himself (quietly) too.

He really wanted to tell someone. To start talking about it. To share it. But that wasn't his and Erin's way. They were private people. They liked their privacy. They fought to keep it. They had all sorts of reasons for that and they had even more good reason to keep it private now. And, really, he knew this was likely too early to tell people. That they should wait until she was at least into her thirteenth or fourteenth week. But he also knew that Erin didn't really want to tell anyone until it got to the point she was showing and they kind of had to admit what was going on. That they wanted to keep it their own business. And that they really didn't want to make it CPD's business.

But it meant that they couldn't tell people they cared about. That he couldn't tell Mouse. That Erin couldn't let Al into the loop. That maybe she might want to tell Kim to have like a female friend to talk to it about, though Jay wasn't sure that Burgess would be the best choice for that given … everything. Couldn't tell Platt.

Jay figured Will pretty much knew since he'd gone to him early for some advice but he'd managed to avoid him – and his peppered questions since then. That was only going to last so long. And he wouldn't be surprised if Will had been a dumbass and said something to Natalie and who knew when she'd say something to someone and it'd get back to the 21st. And, even though Voight hadn't right out said it, it was pretty clear he at least suspected something was up. Jay hadn't told Erin that because she'd be pissed at him – thinking he'd said or done something to confirm it or raise his suspicions. And beyond that she'd been really clear that she wasn't ready to tell Hank yet. That even if he was just her dad she wasn't ready yet. But when he was also her boss – and her boss in a workplace like CPD – she didn't want to tell him now at all. Even though Jay had tried to argue that Voight should likely be the first one they told – and sooner rather than later. Because Jay was going to feel like a fucking dunce if they didn't tell him until she was showing when he'd clearly known the day after they'd gotten their frickin' ultrasound.

"Just work together, relationship," was all Jay provided, though. Because he couldn't really say more to Mouse. Not right now. No matter how much he wanted to. Because he knew Mouse would be excited. That he'd be supportive. That he'd help him not freak the fuck out about all of this. He'd help him make this all right. And he'd be an awesome uncle. He already was. He'd likely end up being way better than Will. Will was shit with kids.

"So wedding bells still going to be ringing then?" Mouse asked, seeming to accept the explanation. Though, Jay could see his careful examination of him. They'd known each other too long. They'd been through too much. No matter what brain damage the guy might've got he could still read and spot some of Jay's facial cues even though Halstead liked to think he had a pretty good poker face.

"Yep," Jay gave a little nod.

"Yea? When's that going to be?" Mouse pressed. "Been waitin' a long time to get that invitation in the mail."

"Ah …," Jay thought and rocked back in his chair a bit. "I guess likely within the next six months."

"Really?" Mouse perked up. "So a winter wedding?"

"Ah, yeah … maybe. We haven't quite pinned it down yet. We're getting there."

And they were getting there because … well, Erin didn't want to have the baby out of wedlock. Because she thought that was important to Voight. Jay actually thought it was likely more important to her than she was letting on. That Bunny hadn't known how to keep her pants on and Erin wanted to make sure that the kid was born into a family – not a shitstorm. And Jay was OK with that – because he was kind of old-fashioned too. Though, he wasn't sure he really wanted wedding photos with Erin nine months pregnant. But whatever. They could just go and do some civil service now to get squared away and do the ceremony she seemed to want whenever. He was open to basically whatever made her happy. He was going to be happy enough just getting their life together established. Just setting up a normal family. That was the goal. He just wanted his family to be so fucking normal that they were fundamentally boring. That just sounded so awesome to him. Wife. Kid. House. Job. Perfect.

"But … ah …," he leaned forward and clattered his fingers against the keyboard of the computer until the screen came awake. He opened the browser and punched in the coach house listing from memory – because that's how many times they'd looked at it in the past week. "We're this close to putting in an offer on that," he said with a point, as he rolled his chair away from the screen so Mouse could see.

Mouse rolled closer and took a look, casting Jay a teasingly impressed look. "Must be real hot and heavy to be looking at something like this …"

Jay shrugged and took another sip of his beer. "It's actually pretty nice. And it's a house. Not a fucking condo."

"Did say you wanted to move up in the world," Mouse said.

"Is up," Jay allowed. "North Side. Bricktown. Right on the border of Roscoe."

"Look at you turning all hipster," Mouse teased.

Jay shrugged and allowed him a smile. "Figure what the fuck, right? Can't beat them, join them."

"Sure you'll beat the shit out of some of them," Mouse said.

"Only if they—"

But before he could complete his sass there was a clatter behind them as Erin came into the room. Her eyes gave away an urgency.

"You're still here," she muttered.

Jay shifted, taking his feet off the counter and gazing at her. "Yea," he allowed. "I was waiting for you to finish up. Everything alright?"

"Yea," she said, casting a look at Mouse who was gazing at her with his own concern. "No," she corrected and shook her head, gesturing for him to come. "I need to talk to you."

Jay gazed after her but she was already out the door and back up into the stairwell, so he cast Mouse his own look – them meeting eyes and Jay could see his own concern and apprehension that he was feeling reflected in his friend's eyes. Still he stood and quickly followed after her. But whatever it was, he knew that Erin's body language was screaming at it wasn't good.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: The chapter posted before this was posted less than 24 hours ago. It's a Jay/Ethan. Please check to make sure you didn't miss it.**


	139. Now

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 123 - Who You Gonna Call.**

Erin fidgeted in the stairwell as she waited for Jay. She'd seen him stand up. She knew he'd be there in a matter of seconds. That he was right behind her. But it felt like he was taking forever. That he was taking his sweet time when her brain was just going a thousand miles an hour. As she tried to process this reality that she didn't want to process. The reality of a reality she hadn't even fully processed to start with. And now …? What?

She thought she knew logically what. She knew what was happening to her body. Her body was screaming at her that it was the only thing that made sense. That it was a miscarriage. That she was miscarrying. That had to be what was happening. But somehow she just couldn't seem to fully let that absorb. To let it set in. But how could it set in when little more than a week ago she'd seen her baby … their baby … on that monitor. They'd heard his heart. His. His heart. They'd been told he – he – looked normal. Fine. That she was healthy. That she was right where he should be. And she'd heard. She'd seen. It looked like what she thought a baby was supposed to look like. It sounded like what she thought it was supposed to sound like. Like she imagined.

She just hadn't imagined. She hadn't wrapped her head around it yet. She hadn't fully accepted it yet. She had. She had in that they'd talked about it. And talked about it. And talked about. That they'd decided they'd keep it. Him. They'd keep him. They'd play this out. They'd make it work. Even though it wasn't the "right" time. It was unexpected. They hadn't been trying. They'd make this work. They'd do it together. They'd figure it out.

They'd be parents. They'd be a family.

And now?

She didn't know what was happening now.

It was all going to shit. That's what was happening now. Again.

She'd been born into bad news. Good things just didn't happen to her. They didn't. They couldn't.

And the world must've known that. Why would the world let another kid be born into bad news.

Why would she do that?

She shouldn't have been doing that to anyone in the first place. Especially not her baby.

And he must've known that. He must've heard that. Felt it.

He'd known. He'd known that she wasn't ready. That she didn't want him.

But she did want him. She just …

She just didn't know how. She didn't know how to do this. She wasn't prepared.

But she had Jay. He was so happy. He was so supportive. He was excited.

He was making this seem like it'd be alright. That they'd be alright. That this baby – their child – he'd be alright. That they'd be a family. That they'd make a life together.

That it could work.

But it wasn't working. It wasn't. Because things just didn't work that way.

She should've known sooner. She should've reacted sooner. Known something was wrong.

Maybe Jay was right. That she didn't know her body. That she didn't even recognize the signs that she was pregnant. How could see recognize that she was miscarrying?

It'd been Burgess. Kim. It'd been Kim who'd noticed. Fucking Kim. And she didn't even know she was pregnant. She still didn't know now.

Kim had thought she'd started her period unexpectedly. She'd been trying to be helpful. Trying to be sisters. Like she always did. She'd tried to connect. For them to colleagues. Friends. Sisters in Blue in a world dominated by men. Where something like this wasn't something you wanted the guys to know. Because they wouldn't understand. They'd just see weakness and liability.

And that was exactly what Erin felt like right now, as she ran her hands through her hair and waited.

Kim had pulled her carefully – but not too discretely – aside when they'd gotten back from a run. When they'd gone out with guns blazing. When she'd done her job and she'd come back to District. And she hadn't had time to think much that morning about the tenderness she was feeling in her breasts or the headache that was setting in or the mild cramping that was starting to rest heavy in her pelvis and the slight nausea she was experiencing. She had work. She had to keep up appearances.

She'd thought that maybe she was just actually starting to feel pregnant. Like really pregnant. That some of the things you hear about that first trimester were actually starting to set in – now that she was nearly done her first trimester. Or that maybe she was just starting to be more aware of her body. She was acknowledging what was happening to it more.

That's what she told herself. But she'd set it aside. She'd done her job. Because to admit how she was feeling that day would be admitting that something was going on. That there'd be questions about her being sick or the cause of the headache. That people might check in on her. Or worse, they'd think she was being a wuss complaining about things that they all pushed through more often than not. No one took a sick day in Intelligence unless they really needed it. Unless it was doctor ordered. It was hard to justify taking a day off when your boss never did.

So she'd gone with it being the pregnancy. It being the heat. It being a combination of both. That fatigue was just a part of her life anymore. That Ethan meant that she didn't sleep.

And it'd been an easy reality to believe in until Kim had grabbed her elbow in the loading bay at the back doors of the garage and pulled her to the side and had put simply, "You might want to take a bathroom break." Erin had looked at her funny and Kim had gestured a little bit and leaned in even more non-discretely despite her best efforts, whispered, "You've got a period stain. I've got a pair of jeans in my locker, if you don't have a change here."

Erin had gaped at her. She could feel her blood draining from her face as her hand unconsciously went to her behind – as she attempted to find and feel the spot, to cover it. But she couldn't form words. She couldn't laugh off embarrassment or be nonchalant about it. All she could do was bolt for the bathroom.

And she sat there looking at her panties. Looking at that little oval stain on the back of her jeans that she hoped none of the guys had seen. Or worse if they'd seen but none of them had been man enough to actually tell her because they were that insecure about the female body functions. But if someone had seen, they likely would've at least told Jay and he would've told her. Wouldn't have they?

But it didn't matter. Because it didn't look like that much blood. Not really. Even though logically she knew it'd been enough to seep through her panties and stain her pants. But it didn't look like she was still bleeding. So it'd been just isolated, right? And they'd told her that some spotting and even a bit of bleeding during the first trimester wasn't uncommon. That it was part of implantation and changing hormone levels. That in most cases it was nothing.

So now, if it'd stopped, it had to be nothing, right? That's what she'd told herself. Because she couldn't process it. She didn't know how to deal with it.

She'd should've gone to Jay. She should've told him. She should've called the nurse. She should've done something more than change and slap on a panty liner. But she didn't.

And as the afternoon went on, the cramping got worse. Not awful. But it'd been worse. And she could feel the blood flow had started again.

When she'd gone back to the bathroom, she'd needed more than a liner. She'd needed a pad and she'd even had the passing thought that she might do better with a night-flow pad. But the coloring still wasn't normal for her. And that's what they'd said. That the flow in the first trimester – if you got bleeding – it was usually more for a brown. It was darker.

So she was still normal? Right?

Only now she couldn't classify it as normal. But she instinctively known that now was too lately. If there was anything the doctors might've been able to do about it – if that was somehow an option, if they could somehow medically save a pregnancy this early – she doubted that would be possible now.

Because now she was getting clots. She almost never got clots. And any clots she did get weren't like this. They'd never, ever looked like this. They hadn't been this big. They hadn't had this kind of texture.

So she'd fucked up. Again. She'd buried her head. She'd avoided. And now she'd killed the baby and she was about to destroy Jay. She was about to see that hope and excitement and love fade from his face.

In a period of two weeks their reality had changed so much. It'd twisted and spun. So fast her head had been whipped around and she hadn't quite righted it yet. And now she just felt like it was sitting cockeyed.

And she felt numb. So numb but somehow the shame and sadness – that she wasn't sure she entirely understood – were still pushing to the surface.

And then he was there. He was at the bottom of the stairs, looking up the few steps to where she was standing and trying to keep it together. Trying to wrap her head around this. Trying to figure out how to say this. Trying to understand what to do about this. How to feel about this. How do deal with this.

Because if she didn't know how to deal with news of a pregnancy, she really didn't know how to deal with the news of a miscarriage.

It'd been another reality that she hadn't really considered for herself and now it was smacking her in the face. Because it seemed like that was the only way life knew how to treat her.

Hard knocks. Over and over and over again. And it seemed like she'd barely stood up, barely found her footing before it found something to whack her with again.

It liked to kick her while she was down.

It liked more to remind her of where she'd come from and who she was and what she deserved.

Which wasn't much.

It wasn't a child apparently. Not a baby. Not her and Jay's baby.

And what about Jay? Did she deserve him? Would he blame her? Would he stay with her?

What if she couldn't have a baby? What if her body wasn't made for a baby? What if life had decided she shouldn't be a mother? Because, really? Why should she be?

That wasn't fair for anyone.

But there he was. Looking at her with those eyes. The deep concern there. The acknowledgement that something was up. Something was wrong. That she was hurting.

"What's wrong?" he asked, reaching up to grab at her hand that was gripping tighly at the railing to try to give herself some support while she dealt with this.

The way he said it – it stung her. It struck right to her tear ducts and they watered before she could even consciously make a decision to fight against it. To be the bad ass. The tough girl.

And then he was there. Up those three steps and pulling her into a hug that she couldn't bring herself to wrap her arms back around him too – because she was afraid if she let go of that railing she might let herself go even more. So he stepped back and frowned at her. That concern creasing into his too-young to be so wounded face of his.

"Erin …-"

"I think I'm miscarrying," she forced herself to press out. Even to her it sounded like a cracked whisper. It sounded foreign. And far away. It didn't sound right. It didn't make sense in the reality she thought they'd been living in. The life she thought they were going to get. But she should've known better.

That frown twisted. It grew larger and more shocked but he shook his head. "What …? No. I mean … spotting, right? The doctor said that we should expect that."

She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth in an effort to keep from tearing up more and shook her head. "It's not spotting, Jay," she said.

"OK … but … the doctor said—"

Erin shook her head harder and reached to find his hand. It took him a long moment before he gripped it back. Before he squeezed it. He was just staring at her slack jawed. Lost. Hurt. He didn't know what to say and she didn't know what to tell him. But she could see that all that dancing in his eyes that had been sparkling at her for the past two weeks. All that excitement and hopefulness. The aspirations and delusions and illusions they'd been quietly creating about what their near future were deflating in him just as quickly if she kicked him. She'd knocked the wind out of him.

And somehow that face that he was making. That look in his eyes. It made her think of his father. And it made her realize just what she'd likely done to him. What she'd taken away from him. What he was feeling. Because she saw that look in his face when he talked about that man. When he talked about his childhood. When they'd sat there for dinner on Christmas Eve.

Awkward devastation. A shattered future. A reality that had been ripped away from him.

"I've had cramps all day," she whispered because now she felt even worse. She felt like she'd hurt him in ways she didn't want to comprehend when she already knew she'd done so much to hurt him in the past. "The bleeding. There's clots. I think … it's not normal, Jay. I think I need to see the doctor. Go to the hospital."

His face still looked so far off but he shifted his eyes to her. He connected with her but she could tell he was processing a sadness. Like the same one she was feeling. The one she didn't quite know how to feel. The one she couldn't quite understand. But he squeezed her hand tighter, lacing his fingers with her and he nodded.

"OK … I'll drive."

But she thought she was going to need him to do more than drive the next few hours. Or days. Or weeks.

How long does it take to understand the shock and sadness she was willing? To understand a loss of something she wasn't even sure she'd had. A loss of something that she'd still been so torn about if she wanted. Now.

But now … all she could think was that maybe she wanted it more than she knew. Only now it wasn't an option. Not now. It wasn't going to be her reality.


	140. Nature's Course

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 94 - OPTIONS.**

 **********MAJOR WARNING: This chapter is the conclusion of the Erin/Jay pregnancy arc. There will likely be a chapter or two a head of this in the arc but since I'm writing 'scenes' this is what I felt like writing now. If you don't want to be spoiled … DON'T READ IT. But I'm likely going to wrap the Ethan birthday arc and then move onto the previously started Father's Day Camping trip Halstead/Ethan/Voight chapter(s) before coming back to the pregnancy stuff. *******

Hank stood in the doorway of the hospital room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He didn't feel like he should have to get permission to enter the room – not of his daughter, not of one of his detectives who'd had to be taken to the hospital on work hours – but he also did. His girl had her finance sitting in the chair next to her bed and she still clearly looked distraught. Upset. Shaken. Understandably.

It was Halstead who saw him in the door first and his eyes set on him. There was a quietness to them – but a firmness. This distrust that Halstead thought he'd say or do something to upset Erin more than she was already upset. But that wasn't his intentions. He wouldn't do that to his kid. Not in a situation like this. When your kid is in the hospital, you don't pull out the hammer. You don't in situations like this at all. And clearly, Halstead hadn't spent enough time in the house with the family, if he didn't know that wasn't how Voight worked. It wasn't how his household worked. Not at all.

Erin's eyes slowly drifted over to his too. They were already glassing. Though, they probably were before he'd even entered the room. But he could see the guilt there. This insecurity. Anxiety and apology. All things that he didn't think needed to be there. But in the very least they didn't need to be directed at him.

"Can I get the room?" he directed at Halstead. It wasn't really a request, even though it was stated as one. Couldn't really kick the guy out. Not unless he was being the boss. And he wasn't. He was there as a father. He was there for his girl. So, he'd get his permission. From Halstead. From Erin. Hopefully they'd give it.

But it didn't look like Halstead was going too. His eyes set on him steely but Erin's drifted back over to her fiancées. They sat there for a long beat until she said far too weakly for anything coming out of Erin's mouth, "It's OK."

Halstead gave an audible sigh and his eyes near plead with her – like he still thought leaving her alone with Voight was a bad idea. That kinda hurt. He'd been alone with Erin through worse. Pulled her through worse all on his own. But, she wasn't his girl anymore. He wasn't the most important man in her life anymore. She had a fiancée for all of that. She was a grown woman. An adult. Only needed dad so much. Truth was Erin had only ever needed him so much. But she'd also needed him more than she'd ever let on. He'd never minded that. And, he thought maybe she needed him more in than moment than she wanted to let on too.

Erin's eyes must've maintained that she was OK – OK to handle this … him … on her own. And Halstead allowed a little nod and rose, giving her hand a squeeze. "I'll just be in the hall," he said quietly.

"It's OK," Erin said again. "Go get a coffee. Something to eat, Jay. You should eat."

He gazed at her but didn't say a thing. Didn't argue with her. Didn't agree with her. But Voight didn't think he'd be headed down to the cafeteria. He'd likely be standing outside the door. Listening to every word and ready to pouch if he thought Voight said the wrong thing. But as much as he had a tendency to stick his foot in his mouth with his daughter. To piss her off. This was one instance where he somehow miraculous thought he had some idea of what to say. What Camille would want him to say. Something a bit more than just telling her it'd all be alright – even though it was just going to be a longer way of saying that.

And, that was fine. Because as much as he thought he might know what to say to Erin, he didn't have a fucking clue what to say to Halstead. What did men say to each other in situations like this? They didn't talk about this kind of stuff. And Halstead wasn't his son. He wasn't even sure he'd know what to say if it was his son. He didn't think him and J would talk this through. Wasn't sure J would even tell him. If he did it'd be a couple sentence phone call. It wouldn't be a conversation. And him and Halstead weren't much for conversations anyway. They'd gotten close to having a couple. At least some exchanges of information or perspectives outside of work. Shared a couple drinks. But hadn't exactly had any heart-to-hearts. Voight didn't think either of them were too interested in that.

Not now. Not yet. Probably not ever.

So let him listen outside the door. Let him glean whatever information he wanted that way. Better than saying it face-to-face. Or maybe he would be a man – and let Voight be a father. And trust that he knew how to do that by now. Had enough experience in that area. Even if he wasn't perfect.

Voight gave Erin a weak smile as Halstead left – that look setting on him as he did leave, unspoken words that said more than enough. But at least he did have the curtosey – was man enough – to close the door behind him and give Voight the time with his daughter, even if he was within earshot, if Erin were to cry out. Voight wouldn't be surprised if there were tears but he didn't think she'd be calling after Halstead. Not right then. She'd have him back with her in a few. If that's what she wanted. And it should be. Right now. He should be by her side.

"Hi Kiddo," he said and wandered closer to the bed, giving her foot a little squeeze. There wasn't much point in asking how she was doing. It was pretty much painted all over her and he had some idea anyway.

Her eyes just plead at him more, though. "We were going to tell you," she managed to press out but he could already hear the struggle in her voice.

He shook his head. "Erin," he assured, "don't worry about that."

Her eyes just welled more – so much so that it caused a sting in his own. "We weren't being careless," she plead at him.

He frowned at her and squeezed her foot again. "I'm not judging you, Erin. You don't need to explain anything to me here."

She looked so guilty as she gazed at him. That look she got. That one when she thought she'd messed up. When she didn't know how to fix it. And she was so afraid she'd disappointed him. More so, that she was scared what sort of repercussions that was going to have. That frightened teenaged kid all over again who was just waiting to be told she wasn't loved or cared about or wanted and that she was being tossed out to the curb again. But the curb wasn't where his girl belonged. Never had been. She'd always deserved better.

"It just happened," she sputtered. "We just found out. We were still deciding what we wanted to do. We were going to tell you."

He just gave a pout and shook his head. "Kiddo, you would've told me when you were ready. You're a grown-up. Your business. Your decision. You don't have to worry about any of that right now, OK? I'm not upset with you. Not judging you. I'm just here as a father, checking in on his daughter. Worried 'bout her. That's all."

She gazed at him, his face skewing and he could tell her was struggling to hiding tears. That they were threatening to spill from her eyes. And his daughter – the cop, the tough street kid who'd seen way too for a woman her age in a fucking First World Country – didn't like to cry. Didn't like to show any kind of weakness. So he gave up on giving her foot a squeeze and reached to find her hand instead, gripping tightly at it.

"We heard the heartbeat, Hank," her voice cracked and he bit his bottom lip, giving a little nod of acknowledgement, but it punched him in the stomach too. "And it made it real. But … I … I didn't know what I wanted … it was just … I wasn't … we weren't … just … now? But … now it's like … the baby knew. The baby knew and—"

Hank shook his head hard and squeezed her hand harder. "Erin," he said, reaching and pulling the chair to sit on so he was down at her level – not hovering over her. "That's not how it works."

"It feels like it is," she said and stared at the ceiling. "A week ago, he …" she stumbled and corrected herself, "… it … was there and now it's not. And it feels like … it knew. He knew. And I … killed it."

He squeezed her hand again. "Erin," he said more firmly. "That's not how this works. You know that. Don't be so hard on yourself. You're always too fucking hard on yourself. OK? Don't. Nature took its course. That's all. Eight weeks, right?" he asked and she gazed at him with sad eyes. "Nine?" he guessed again. It didn't really matter. He figured he was close enough. "This happens," he re-affirmed.

She just shook he head and went back to gazing at the ceiling – avoiding his eyes. Not wanting to talk to him. Not knowing what to say. Just wanting to be alone. And likely trying to figure out how to bury herself in a hole while she was at it. To hide. To not have to deal with this. But he couldn't let her do that. No matter how hard this might be.

Voight leaned forward a bit and keeping grip of her one hand, he reached with his other and cupped her cheek until she shifted her eyes to his. He gave her another thin smile – an apologetic one. An effort at sympathy – because he felt it. Even if the baby was unplanned. Even if the timing was bad and the circumstances not ideal. It'd been a baby. Her baby. And it was a loss – no matter how cut it.

With her looking at him now, though, he let the hand fall away from her face and pulled his chair a bit closer to the bed. He scrubbed at his face for a moment and gave her hand a squeeze again. She wasn't trying to pull that away from him and now he wasn't going to let her.

He poked his tongue in his cheek as he looked at her. Funny how kids grow up. The scrawny, dirty little girl that he'd watched get lured into prostitution and drugs while all the adults around her turned blind-eyes or outright encouraged and propagated the behavior. The defiant, mouthy, stubborn pain in the ass he'd brought home and into his family. That girl and teenager – that pain in the ass – had grown into his beautiful, strong daughter. Didn't much matter that she was thirty years old now – engaged and laying in a hospital bed dealing with a miscarriage, the loss of his grandchild – he still saw that little twelve-year-old girl with the big eyes and knobby knees and dirty blond, scraggily hair. She was still his little girl. His kid. No matter how big or grown-up she might be. She still needed a father and someone to tell her things would be alright. To help her – and the family she was making of her own – get it to that point. Because that's what you did for your children. It was what you signed up for – whether you knew it or not. Parenting didn't end when they hit their eighteenth birthday. That was for sure.

He smacked his lips slightly as he looked at her and gripped her hand. "You know," he allowed flatly, "I managed to get Camille pregnant before the wedding." Erin squinted at him at that. He could see her doing the instant math to that one and the recognition washing over her face that she knew where this was going. He made a little dismissive gesture with his free hand and smacked his lips. "Guess we started the honeymoon a little early. She was about two months … ten weeks … when we tied the knot. Not showing yet. Thank God," he rasped. "Because you can imagine how that would've gone over with my mother. Or Camille's folks," he added and shook his head, gazing off into the corner for a moment before finding her eyes. She gave him a weak smile at the disclosure and it was her who squeezed his hand that time.

"When?" she asked gently.

Because it was clear that baby wasn't J. Because it'd come up with the kids in the past – questions about why him and Camille had waited so long to have kids. They'd always provided answers about wanting to enjoy some time as a couple as they settled into marriage. For Camille to make sure she was done with her schooling and to get settled into her career. For Hank to settle into his beat and get through the worse of some of the piss-ass shifts they gave you while you were a rookie with the piss-ass pay to go along with it. All that been truthful enough that the kids hadn't said anything much beyond noting that J hadn't been born until the two of them where in their 30s. Late stage, older parents as far as things went in the late-80s and early-90s. Not that the kids had likely clued into that. It'd been enough of a half-truth that it was buyable. Thing was it was always just a half-truth. Need to know. And at the time, it'd been all any of the kids needed to know.

Hank let out a slow breath through his nose and gave her a frown. "Twenty weeks," he said flatly and scrubbed at his face with his free hand again. Because this wasn't something he talked about. Even him and Cami hadn't said too much about it. It was different times. But he knew – he knew – that right now, if Camille was still there, she'd be sitting there talking to Erin and holding her hand. And this would be what she'd be telling her. It would be how she'd reassure her. How she'd let their girl know that she wasn't alone. And that it was going to be OK.

"So technically a still birth," Voight said. His own voice quivering just a bit because he didn't think he'd actually used those words before and it added a realness to it that stung in a way that it hadn't for a very, very long time. He found her eyes, though, and gave his own weak smile. "A girl," he provided. "Would've been about your age."

He saw Erin's face change again as she processed that. It was likely more than she needed to process in that moment. He could see where her mind was churning to. That assumption – this insecurity – that Camille hadn't liked her when she'd come home. And maybe there was some truth in that – but it was more Voight's decision to bring her home and Camille's lack of involvement in that initial decision. That emergency situation – where that little girl needed to be pulled out of a situation and taken somewhere. And he sure wasn't handing her over to DCFS – because he knew how kids fell through the cracks and got lost in that system. Considering what he knew now – about what had happened to Teddy – he was even more thankfully that he'd brought their girl home that night and dealt with the wrath of his wife. The questions. The fights. The back-and-forth that had gone one in Erin's first weeks home.

He knew Erin had always assumed that Camille simply hadn't liked her at the start. That Camille had cast aspersions on him – and Erin – about who'd actually fathered her. And there'd been hurt about that. Louder arguing. Anger. A bruise to the marriage and their relationship. But a justified question as much as Voight had hated Camille even thinking that there was a possibility that he'd step out on her. That she worried about what he was out there doing while he was U.C. – what it actually meant for their relationship and family and life together. But that had only been part of their arguments. The other part had been that he'd brought home a little blond girl with those green-tinted hazel eyes. Features that weren't that different from his wife's. Not that different to the ones that his baby boy would eventually inherit. And a little girl who was the age of the baby girl they'd never gotten to know all those years ago. But then he'd gone and placed that girl, that age, that hair and those eyes in front of his wife. He'd done that to her. And them. And their family. And there'd been more arguments about that than anything. Even those had faded quickly enough as Camille gazed at Erin the way her had – the missing puzzle piece in their family – and seen the need this child had for love, help, support and therapy.

The arguments about who she was, what she represented, how she fit in the family, and how long she could stay shifted to therapists and psychologists and doctors and counseling and this program and that program and how they were suddenly going to pay for two children and afford private high school right then for this child. And those were the important conversations. They were the ones that mattered. The ones that made Erin their child. The ones that settled her into the family. That got her on the road toward having a life – the kind she deserved. Erin being a member of their family wasn't any kind of torture for Camille – or for him, or their relationship. She'd just been their child. One who'd come home differently – and a little later – than their two boys. But hadn't presented any more problems or heartbreak than them either. She'd just been her. Her own person. Her own problems. Her own challenges. Whatever thought she might've made him and Camille think or conversations and pasts she'd prompted them to face.

The truth was that Erin coming into their lives had forced him and Camille to have conversations that maybe he would've preferred they never have. Maybe talks they could've managed going their whole lives without having if that kid hadn't set foot in their home. But she had. And him and his wife had had to talk – in ways that they hadn't talked before in some cases and on topics they hadn't talked about in a real long time in others. And that had been good for their marriage. Good for their relationship. Good for their family. And their kids. And them as parents. Hard talks. Challenging conversations. Emotions that Voight didn't much like delving into. Past history that he would've liked to move on from and not look back on too much. But talks that needed to be had.

Erin was good for his relationship with his wife in ways that the kid likely wouldn't ever know. Because she wasn't privy to everything that had gone on between him and Camille in those days and weeks and months after he'd brought her home. She never would be. That was between him and his wife. But it'd brought them closer. And the kid had brought their family together – in ways that Erin also wouldn't ever fully appreciate, even though, Hank knew she was starting to get it. Now as an adult. Now with moving into the age where she was looking at a family of her own. Now with her baby brother home and sick and her stepping up to the plate more than any father could even hope for coming from his little girl. His little girl being not just the big sister his baby boy needed – but making sure that he still had that female role model in his life. A motherly touch. That affection and tenderness that Hank couldn't provide in the same way Erin could no matter how much he wanted to. Giving both him and Magoo glimpses of Camille in ways that Erin didn't likely fully realize she was providing either. But she was.

Erin was a missing puzzle piece in their family. A piece that completed them. The piece they needed and had been searching for for a real long time. A piece they'd never really expected to find – since it'd been missing so fucking long. But there she was. And maybe it was better she didn't quite get that. But Hank and Camille knew. And E had never known any different. He'd always had the completed puzzle. Or at least he had for the first seven years. Now with him it wasn't Erin who was the piece that was missing.

But those conservations – those thoughts, that processing – it wasn't something they needed to talk about right now. It wasn't even something Voight had meant for his girl to think about or dwell on too much right now. She had enough of her own thoughts and emotions to work through. She didn't need to shoulder more.

"Hank …" she struggled to get out.

But he just shook his head and gave her another weak smile. "I just … I just wanted you to know … this – now – it don't mean anything about how your family is going to look. It's just that sometimes nature takes its course. There's not much you can do about it. It just is what it is."

Her eyes watered more but she allowed an even weaker smile – or at least she tried. Her bottom lip just quivered there. So he pulled his chair even closer to her bed – closer to her head – and put his hand on her forehead. It was hot. Clammy. Likely more from nerves and discomfort than any kind of fever. He hoped they'd given her something to help with the pain and discomfort of the cramping but knowing Erin she was likely being as stubborn as fuck about taking anything. Refusing. She'd make herself hurt and suffer and feel every second of this. She'd punish herself.

He stroked at her hairline. Keeping her line of sight and attempting to give her some comforting looks.

"You aren't on a timeline, Kiddo," he told her. "Everyone goes at their own pace. Follows their own path. You'll get to where you're meant to be going. Just give it time. Keep plodding along the best you know how. It will work out."

"I just … I just …," she shook her head and let her chin fall to the opposite side so she didn't have to look at him.

"Hey …," he called at her and she reluctant brought her eyes back. "We were thirty-one when J was born," he told her. "Old fogies by society's standards way back then." She allowed a little smile and he stroked her hair. "We'd have been right on track today. Right? Maybe one of the youngens." She smiled a little more at that. "You've got lots of time. There will be other times when it's better for you – when it's more right for you. And the baby. It will all get sorted out."

"What if it does …," she muttered. "What if this means that I—"

Voight shook his head and squeezed her hand tighter. "Erin, the doctors, they must be tellin' ya, that a miscarriage in the first trimester, it happens lots. Lots and lots."

She gazed at him sadly and he scrubbed at his face again and looked at her. Trying to find words and reassurances again. Trying to figure out how to be a father in this situation. What Camille would do for their daughter now. Because she'd know what to say here. More than him.

"After J was born, we wanted to get pregnant again," he muttered and forced himself to keep her eyes. "You knew that, right?"

She gave him a weak look and a little shrug. "Four," she said flatly.

He allowed his own amused look at that. Returning the weak smile. Apparently he'd told the story too many times. Seemed like he'd had to give it to all the kids at some point in the story of their family. And apparently they'd actually been listening.

He held her hand and allowed a little nod as he slumped back in his chair a bit. "Yea," he agreed. "We wanted four. But, you know, after we lost our little girl … we didn't try again for a while. Just … settled in some. So, guess we were a little older when Justin arrived. Fucking awful pregnancy. Your mom … Camille …," he corrected himself because as much as Camille was Erin's mom, his girl still always just referred to him and her, as Hank and Camille.

Mom and Dad rarely got dropped. It was usually a slip – when she was real hurt or real scared and then she'd get even more squirrely when she realized she'd made the slip. Somehow it was still fucking Bunny who got that title of "mom" and some how it always made Voight want to break something when he heard her get the privilege of having that name applied to her.

Bunny wasn't her mom – maybe her biological mother but even applying "mother" with that caveat before it seemed too generous. Bunny didn't know what being a parent was. Never would. And part of Hank ached knowing that Erin had likely wanted to talk to a woman right then. Wanted a woman – a mother – there holding her hand and talking to her. Not him. And that it'd likely crossed her mind that she should call Bunny. Only Voight didn't want to imagine what sort of "advice" Bunny would give his girl here. How she'd downplay this loss and likely feed the pain – bury them – with alcohol and opiates.

That wasn't what Erin needed. She needed to hear her real mother's voice and advice and assurances and he was about as close as she could get in hearing them. So he was having to dig down and open up. She knew he loved her but sometimes he had to let himself be more vulnerable than he'd like so she could see it too.

"She was real sick," he nodded looking at the floor for a long moment and then found his girl's eyes again. "The whole thing. And we were just … stressed out of our minds the whole time. Didn't help anything with how she was feeling. Then J finally gets here and he was a fucking nightmare of a baby. A royal pain in the ass. Did just didn't shut up."

"Some things don't change," Erin deadpanned.

Hank made an amused sound and gave her a bit more real of smile, shaking his head. "Yea," he agreed and gazed at the floor again. "But your mom, she still wanted to get pregnant again. A-SAP. Guess she felt like the clock was ticking by then. Or that we were in the zone. But, fucking J screaming his lungs out every night, all night in the next room. Not exactly the best way to set the mood."

"Hank …" she groaned at him and rolled her eyes.

He smiled and gave her hand a bit of a squeeze and she looked back. "But we worked at it," he told her a little more weakly. "Was work, though. We did manage to get pregnant again. J was … about thirteen months." Erin's eyes set up him again at that. "But we lost that baby too," he put flatly. "Ten weeks. We lost two more after that," he provided as her eyes set on him and glistened. For her. For him. For Camille. "Turned out Camille had fibroids and things just … weren't sticking. Making it hard in the first place and then …" he shook his head and gave a little shrug. "After three … we just said … no more. Because this is hard," he nodded at her. "It's real hard, Kiddo. I know. So we stopped. Couldn't do it anymore. Figured nature had decided for us what was best for our family. But life and nature – it's got plans for us we can't see. None of us know what the future holds." He shrugged at her. "Life still sent us a daughter and nature sent us another baby. At forty-two. Life and nature have some sick senses of humor."

Erin gazed at him. "She wanted a girl," she put flatly. "It's why she kept trying."

Hank let out a deep breath and shrugged at her. "Kiddo, when we talked about our family, I think we always imagined having a little girl in the mix. But it wasn't ever that we were trying to replace the baby we lost. She was her own person too. There was no replacing her. We just didn't have the privilege of getting to know her."

"You hoped Ethan was a girl," she put flatly.

Hank let out an amused sound at that and shook his head more, pulling at his chin and then letting his tongue rest inside his cheek there. He brought his eyes back to her after taking a moment to reflect on his wife – and their life – and those years ago.

"You know, by the time we got pregnant with E, we already had our girl," he said and squeezed her hand tightly, trying his best to give her a warm look. "Camille already had the daughter she'd always wanted. With E … we just wanted a healthy baby. And, I was … I was going out of my fucking mind the whole pregnancy. Do you remember that?"

She squinted at him. "I just remember everyone seeming … excited."

Hank shook his head and rubbed at his face again. "Nah, I was … scared the whole thing. The entire fucking thing. And knowing you kids were old enough to understand then – to know about the pregnancy and what was going one – and worrying about if something happened, explaining that to you two and how'd your deal with the loss. What that loss would mean to the two kids we had at home already. And then … all this shit they were spewing at us about being in our forties and what that could mean for the baby and what all the previous miscarriages might mean for the baby. All these genetic defects and chromosomal defects and birth defects. And autism and downs syndrome and …" he shook his head. "I didn't know how we were going to deal with this kid if he was special needs. At our age. With our jobs. Our income. The kind of shit you two fucking hellions were already pulling at home." She gave him an apologetic smile at that. "But Cami … she was so … fucking positive about it through the whole thing. And the pregnancy was so easy. They say girls are an easier pregnancy so we had thought he might be a girl. But we weren't waiting for one or wanting one. We just wanted a healthy baby. And it's what we got. A perfect baby," he shook his head and let out a slightly defeated sound. "That's what your mom had said he was going to be the whole pregnancy." Voight shrugged. "She was right. We got our prefect baby. One we'd been waiting for. And we were forty-two, Erin. It wasn't something we were looking for or planning then. We'd been where you are right now and we'd thought we'd run out of time or emotional capacity to do it anymore – but … life and nature, Kiddo. They do what they want. They've got their own plans. And you've just got to go with it."

She stared at him. "You've never told me most of that before …" she said quietly.

He gave her a little shrug and a weak smile. "You know … things were different back then. People didn't talk about this kind of stuff. Especially men." He stared off at the wall for a moment but she gripped at his hand and he looked down at it before finding the eyes on that face of the young woman his daughter had become. "And some of it … it's just …," he nodded and ran his tongue along the front of his teeth. "Things a man and his wife share." But he looked back to her again. "But I think … I know … if Camille … your mom … if she was here right now, she'd be telling you this. Because she'd … we'd … want you to know you aren't alone in this and it's going to be alright."

Erin's eyes watered and he could see her struggle not to look away and try to hide it. "I know, Hank, it's just—"

"I know," he nodded and held her hand tighter. "I do know," he assured. "I do know, in my own way. OK?"

She nodded – though somewhat unsurely.

He frowned at her. "Kiddo, you're allowed to feel about this. Doesn't matter that this was unplanned. Doesn't matter that you weren't sure about the timing. It's a loss. And it hurts. You're allowed to feel about it and you're allowed to talk about it." He jutted his head off toward the door. "And so's he. And you've got to remember, Erin, that a lot of marriage is sharing life experiences together. It's having them together. So … talk about it. With him. Don't cut him out. Don't let him cut you out either. It's hard for him too. He'll be feeling differently than you. But, trust me, he's still feeling it. And as hard as this is – getting through this together – it's gonna make your relationship stronger."

"What if it doesn't?" she asked weakly.

"Then that's life telling you something else," he said flatly. "But … I don't think that's the message it's trying to get across right now. Not with the looks Halstead was giving me and the way I can feel him standing outside the door right now."

Erin gave a little smile and her eyes drifted over to the door but the smile shifted to a frown. "Everyone knows," she grimaced.

Voight let out a sigh. "Work with some bright people. They'll fill in the blanks."

She let out a noise and gazed at the ceiling. "Does Eth know?"

Hank stroked his thumb over the top of her hand. "Well, with the speed they're goin' around here, I think you're goin' to be here for a bit …"

"They haven't told me when the procedure is yet," she said weakly. "But said they'll keep me a few hours after it before they discharge me."

Hank nodded and held her hand. "Guessing they'll likely just end up keeping you over night. So E's going to be askin' after you. But it's your business, Erin. I can bring him over, if you want. I can tell him outright. Or I can … deflect him. It's up to you."

She sighed shakily and gazed at the ceiling. "I don't know," she said. "I don't think I want him to know."

Hank nodded. "OK," he acknowledged. "So something came up. That's all he needs to know. You can decide anything else later. It's your business."

She nodded in return but she didn't seem entirely convinced. He frowned at her.

"Kiddo, I know I don't understand what you're feeling completely but I'm here," he said. "Can talk to me too. Family's about sharing too. The good, the bad, the ugly."

She gave him a thin smile. "I know, Hank."

He nodded and reached to give her shoulder a little squeeze, giving her a weak smile. "Gonna let him come back in but gonna stick around for a bit. Go get a coffee." She nodded and he again tried to smile as he started to move away from the bed. "Try to relax, Erin," he said. "And let the doctors help make this easier on you."

She nodded with watery eyes. So he allowed another sympathetic smile, giving her foot a final squeeze and heading for the door.

"Hank …" she called at him and he glanced over his shoulder, slowing his movements. "Thanks …" she said. "For taking me in. For being my family. My dad."

He gave her a thin lips and shrugged. "Life and nature, Kiddo," he said again. "Plans of their own. But you're about the best thing that ever happened to me. To our family. I still mean that."

She frowned at him and her eyes watered harder but he just gave her another thin-lipped smile and stepped out the door, gesturing at Halstead to get his ass back in there. Because as much as he could do for his daughter, there were other things that now – as an adult – it had to be her fiancée who did it. Who fixed it.

But he still knew – for daughters, there were always going to be some things that only Dad could fix. Could make better. And he'd keep trying his best to make sure he did that. For his girl.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: A chapter got posted last night. Sorry, Not Sorry - should be Chapter 92. Please make sure you don't miss it. Feedback and reviews are always appreciated.**


	141. What You've Got

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 126 - NATURE'S COURSE.**

"Halstead," Jay heard rasped at him just as he was about to go off-clock. Already standing up and getting ready to trail after Erin – to meet her outside at the car in the ridiculous illusion they kept up like them leaving a few minutes a part at the end of the day somehow illustrated to any powers-that-be that might be watching too closely that they weren't together, when everyone knew they were. Now more than ever.

The illusion was hardly worth trying to maintain anymore. He didn't much like even bothering trying to do it. Because the protectiveness had really kicked in – again, now more than ever. And even leaving her alone for those few minutes – giving her the bit of space that she kept demanding – felt like too much. He didn't want her to be alone. To feel alone. To think she deserved to be alone.

It wasn't that she didn't deserve alone time – if that's what she thought she really wanted or really needed. It was just that he didn't want her to let keep sneaking back into her psyche that she deserved to be alone. Because she didn't. And if she kept going there, Jay also knew her, and he knew she'd do everything in her power to push people away so that she was alone. She'd make it a self-fulfilling prophecy and he wasn't going to let that happen either.

He'd let her push before. He'd given her too much space because that's what she demanded and she'd fallen into that rabbit hole that had been really hard for everyone to pull her out of. To get her to pull herself out of. Jay didn't ever want to go there again.

Because he'd been in that hole before and he didn't have as many people reaching down to pull him out of it as she did. He'd been down in it long enough to know how dark and lonely it was. Erin didn't need to be there. Not now. She had no reason to be – no matter how much she was hurting. He was hurting too. But he also wasn't going to let them hurt each other because of their individualized pain. Because it wasn't individualized – no matter what she thought. It was shared. It was stinging him – weighing on him – just as much.

But he let himself turn. To look at his boss. To let Erin has a few extra seconds or a few extra minutes in the car. For her to sit at the steering wheel and stare off straight ahead into a distance that didn't seem to be there. It seemed like it'd become a favorite activity for both of them anymore. Just sitting. Just staring. There wasn't a whole lot of talking even when there was. Because they were both still trying to figure out what to say. He was still trying to figure out what she needed to hear. Or how to make this better. What she needed.

It was hard to know when he didn't know himself. He didn't know what he needed to hear or what he needed to make this better. He didn't know how to describe to anyone how much it hurt. He didn't even know how to vocalize it to another man even with the limited friends he had. Mouse. His brother. He hadn't talked to either of them. Even though they knew. Everyone knew.

Will had tried to talk to him. He'd shut him down. Because what the fuck did Will know about it? What did he know about relationships? What did he understand about having the woman you wanted to spend the rest of your life with carrying your child? What did he know about seeing and hearing that baby on a screen to watching the baby leave your fiancée's body in a bloody mess a week later? To hold her hand during that. To sit there while she was in an operation to have the "products of conception" scraped out of her insides? To she her silent tears? To watch her try not to look at him? To know that she felt ashamed when she didn't have reason to be. When it wasn't her fault. It just was … nature. It just happened. But no matter how many times you verbalized that – to try to convince her, to try to convince yourself – it just felt empty.

Will didn't know. He didn't know about any of that. He was a doctor. That's all. He might've seen other people go through it. But he hadn't experienced. He didn't want to experience. He ran away whenever he got close to experiencing anything close to it. Or he found ways to fuck it up.

But Jay wasn't going to fuck this up. It wasn't going to be a banana peel. Not for him. Not for Erin. Not for their relationship. Because as much as he didn't know how to deal with this. How to fix it. How much it made it feel like less of a man because he didn't know how to make it better. Because he'd let this happen to her … to the baby … to them. Even though Erin had that look about her – that look of loss he'd spent so much of his twenties and thirties trying to avoid having to see because it made him feel like he wasn't worth to be the one who stuck around while others had left this world. Again and again. But even in the midst of all of that, he knew that out of all the things he didn't know, he did know that he needed her. That was what he needed. To get through this. To get through the now. Likely to slog through the rest of whatever the fuck life had in store for him. For them.

"My office," Voight put to him bluntly.

Jay let out an inaudible sigh. Because of all the years he'd spent burying himself in work to avoid dealing with the world he had to live in - or the world that had built up in his head – these days he just wanted to get home at the end of tour. To go and be in his head. To go and be in their heads together. Even if that mean sitting silently and staring at nothing on the horizon.

Still, he moved to the sergeant's office. He stood in the doorway while Voight had already moved to sit behind his desk – rocked back, hands folded. It looked like he was in shit. But Jay couldn't immediately think of what he might've done to get his boss' ire that day. Maybe it was just an accumulation of the past two weeks. Because he knew he hadn't been all there. Neither him nor Erin had. And he had been with it enough that he had noticed some of the looks Voight had given him. He hadn't verbalized "get your head on straight" but the eyes had been close enough. Jay knew he likely would've verbalized it if the reason his head wasn't on straight wasn't that he'd gotten Erin pregnant … Voight's 'daughter' … and that they'd lost his unborn grandchild. That he was getting some small amount of leeway because of that. Placed on the special privilege list where the boss' patience lasted a little bit longer because of the correlation he had to 'his girl'. But he also knew from experience that even with the people Voight cared about – intensely – his patience only went so far. And that him and Erin both had been walking a fine line.

Erin had gotten some additional leeway. Because of who she was and what she'd gone through. She'd been offered more time off. Medical leave. But she'd only taken three days, which had been near mandated by the doctors. Jay had tried to take the time off with her but had only ended up with one. Staying with her in the hospital and driving her home before she told him to go back to work. That he didn't have reason to be taking time off work. To be "wasting" his furlough on that. He didn't agree. At all. But she was still so upset that he didn't want to upset her more by arguing with her about it. So he'd listened and had to go back into District. Alone. With those looks of everyone knowing.

Platt. Mouse. Ruzek. O. Antonio giving his shoulder a squeeze that he couldn't decide if was just him trying to be a good guy or if it was some sort of acknowledgement that he knew what it was like. That he'd been there. But he didn't know how to have that kind of conversation with another guy. It just didn't seem like something you were supposed to talk about. And then there was Voight standing at the end of the bullpen, rasping at him if he needed a couple more days. Giving him a look when he said no, that he wanted to work, needed to work. That was only half true. He needed to work if Erin wasn't going to let him be with her. He couldn't take a couple days and go sit in his apartment alone to try to figure out how he was supposed to feel about all of this.

But any of that was easier than people asking how Erin was. Burgess. Platt. All the guys. Though, everyone had the good sense to only ask once. And he'd just given a vague answer indicating she was OK. Because he supposed physically that was true. Beyond the doctors saying she should take it easy for a couple days. But it was a fucking bold-faced lie in about every other way imaginable. She pretty clearly wasn't alright. Not when he was back at work not even 24 hours after it happened. It wasn't even really true if they were still asking now. Because he still felt like he was walking on some different planet any part of the day that he let his mind drift off of work and into the other parts of his life – his real life. The important one. And if he felt that way – two weeks later – he knew Erin felt it even more. Everything about how she was holding herself and that look in her eyes screamed it. She was there – at work, with him – but she wasn't all there. They were both just functioning and not really coping yet. But people at stopped asking him how she was doing. And he was glad for that. Because it was an invasion of her privacy and her personal space – and he didn't know how to answer anyway. He didn't know if he had a right to speak for her in that area at all. No matter how much he loved, no matter the fact that it was his child too – it wasn't his experience. Not in the same way as hers. He got that. But he also made him feel like maybe he wasn't supposed to feel or maybe he was somehow less of a man by feeling this much for … this.

It was just an eleven week … almost twelve week … fetus. It wasn't something they actually had and to hold to lose. That's what he was trying to convince himself at that point. That it wasn't even something he'd known about for long. Not that long. From Erin telling him maybe to her telling him in that stairwell, no more – it wasn't more than two weeks. That's not enough to make something a reality. Not to make it yours. Not to even get used to it. Not to own it. He kept trying to convince himself of that over and over and over again. That he was over-reacting and feeling more than he should.

But he did feel. As unexpected as it was - as shitty of timing as it was – it'd felt right. It'd felt exciting. It'd just hit him in tidal waves. A fucking tsunami. The possibilities. All these possibilities that had been slowly growing in him – that he'd slowly been thinking about, talking about, sharing with Erin – for the past year, planted right in front of him. Like they could be real. Like he could relive … redo … some parts of his childhood. Like he'd get a second childhood. A better one. And that he'd be giving that childhood to a little boy … or girl. That he'd be a father. A hell of a better father than he'd have. That he was making a family. A real family. One that would hold together better than what his had. Because he'd never do the things his father had done. He'd never put his kids or his wife through that. That he'd have this woman to share all this with. To make it real with. That they were going to do it together and it was going to be so much better than anything they'd have.

It was their second chance. Their phoenix. A rise from the ashes. For all the shit they'd both been through – they were being given this. It was a fucking gift.

Only it hadn't been. It'd just been this added layer to fuck them both up more. Because this seemed beyond anything that either of them knew how to deal with. For all the shit they'd been through – all the losses they'd had – this was just beyond their scope. It hurt just as much or more than a lot of the other "life experiences" Jay had been through. It stung. And as much as he kept telling himself that life wasn't fair – that he'd more than learned that – this just didn't seem fair.

It seemed less fair when it was grating at him about how they were going to get through this – as a couple. If they were. Because as much as they were still together – it was different. Their challenges at communicating were shining through these two weeks. Their struggles with accepting help. With opening up. With being vulnerable. And talking about any of this – it was beyond their scope. And that just stung too. Because he wasn't sure he could do this – any of it – without her. Not after he'd experienced what navigating life with her was like. They needed to navigate this and just … move on. If this was something you could move on from …

It had to be, right? People … couples … this happened to them every day? All the time? They weren't special in that regard. This wasn't some isolated, statistically improbable incident. They were just two more people – another couple – who'd experienced a miscarriage. And lots of other people were walking around still living life after it.

They could too.

Eventually.

"Close the door," Voight said. "Sit down."

Jay stared at him. He crossed his arms. Because he wasn't in the mood to be reamed out. To be lectured. To be told to get his head on straight. To get his head back in the game. To move on. Now. Not now.

But Voight just smacked at him and gestured at the chair in front of his desk again. "You're off the clock," he said. "Not work related."

Jay set his eyes on him. "Then I don't think I want to talk about it at work," he said. Because he also didn't want some other pep talk from Voight. He'd gotten two already. As much as Voight gave him pep talks. They'd been simply. The conveyance that he'd been there while they were sitting in the waiting room at the hospital and a shoulder squeeze at the house one night with the simple words, "You're OK. Goin' be OK." But if Voight had really "been there", he wasn't sure that he was a shining example of everything being OK.

"Jay, sit down," he said lower but still with a firmness that conveyed there wasn't any more space for conversation about this.

So he sat. But he didn't close the door. Because he wanted to keep this short and sweet. He didn't feel like a heart-to-heart.

Voight smacked, though, and stared at the door. Out it. O was still there. Mouse and Atwater. But the guy just shifted his eyes back to him, rocking in that chair.

"How you doing?" he asked flatly.

"Fine," Jay put back just as flatly.

"Mmm …," he grunted. "What about Erin?"

Jay shrugged. "OK," he allowed.

Voight eyed him. They both knew he was lying. But he could take that up with Erin. Jay knew Voight was checking in either her regularly too. And even though they'd stepped back in how much time they spent over at Voight's house, it wasn't like they'd disappeared from the lives they had outside of work. They were just taking some time. They were dealing with their own things – rather than his. His and Ethan's and Justin's and Olive's.

But Voight saw them. At Eth's games. The couple times they'd gone over in the evening because Erin just "wanted to be home" or wanted to see her little brother – her true stabilizing force. Jay knew there were other times where she demanded her space from him – saying she didn't want to see him that night, that she didn't want him to come over – but that she'd gone and spent time with her brother and dad on her own. That she'd taken on taking Ethan to one of his appointments or practices as a way to avoid talking to him or a distraction from thinking about all the places her mind was spinning.

So it wasn't like Voight needed to ask him how Erin was doing. He knew. He was likely seeing her outside of work more than Jay right now. She'd let him be around the first week but she was really pushing for space that week. Shoving. Hard. And sitting at Molly's with people talking shop just really didn't seem to do it for him anymore. Not at all. If he didn't have Erin. If he didn't have shit to run around doing for her family – Eth's over-burdened schedule and needs – he just didn't know what to do with himself. So he'd done a lot of that sitting and staring too. He was going to need to re-watch every documentary in his Netflix recently watched queue because he didn't think he'd absorbed anything said in any that he'd had on the past week.

Voight folded his hands and rocked a bit more in that chair – still considering him. Them still locked in a stand-off that Jay wasn't sure what the point of was. And he really didn't care. He just wanted to get going.

"Look," Voight said, "I'm putting this to you because I ask Erin and she's just going to tell me what she thinks I want to hear, whether she's up to it or not."

"I don't speak for Erin," Jay said firmly.

Voight smacked at him. "Not asking you to speak for her. Just two guys who care about her having a bit of a talk."

Jay just stared at him. Stoic. Because he didn't want to be put in this spot.

Voight let out a little sigh at him, though, like he was reading what Jay knew he probably had painted all of his face. He rocked forward and put his elbows on the desk.

"I need to take another ride down to Kentucky this weekend," he put to him much more directly. "Be a lot easier to get done what needs to get done, if I don't got Magoo underfoot. Would prefer you and Erin watch him. Know Erin will say she'll do it but not too sure she's in the right headspace to put up with him for forty-eight straight on her own."

Jay sat back in the seat a bit and gazed at him. To weigh the request. "Olive and the baby coming back with you this trip?" he finally asked.

Voight shrugged and rocked back in his own chair. "Yea, that's the plan."

Jay nodded and stared at the crap sitting on the front of Voight's desk for a moment. For a guy who wasn't much for clutter, he did have knick-knacks – pieces of him, of his family – on display. For all the efforts he went to to keep his family hidden from view and his private life private, it was painted all over him in a whole lots of ways. It was a strange juxtaposition. Pride versus protectionism. Security versus openness. Some fucking tightrope that Jay didn't know he'd ever figured out how to navigate yet but that Voight seemed to flip around comfortably on like some kind of acrobat.

Did twenty-five plus years on the job get you that? Or did twenty-five plus years as a husband and father get you that? Or did fifty-five years walking the world as a man get you that?

Jay didn't fucking know. But sometimes he wished he could figure out the secret to it. Didn't want to be Voight but sometimes he wanted Voight's life. Or aspects of it. Some sort of envy that a guy like him could have all the shit in the world figured out. Could operate in it and still have a life. Still be a fucking human being.

Sometimes Jay wasn't sure if he was too human or if life had just made him so inhumane that he didn't know how to even act human anymore. Not like the rest of the fucking humans walking the Earth anyway. So fucking oblivious in their little realities. Their fucking bubbles.

"You get the living situation sorted out?" Jay put flatly, staring at the little Chicago flag he had in his pencil tin. The one that he wasn't sure if it was a reminder of who he served or just something for Eth to play with while he was sitting in there waiting for his dad. Not that the kid got to touch it without being barked at about showing respect to the thing – that it wasn't a toy, that you didn't roll it up like some sort of gymnastic ribbon to twirl around.

"Mostly," Voight rasped, tongue in his cheek.

"Know Erin didn't feel that them moving in was going to be too good for any of you," Jay muttered, bringing his eyes back up to the man. Because they looked each other in the eyes when they talked. It was the only way that Jay ever felt like he was getting a level playing field with him – demanding respect as a man too.

"Mmm," Voight grunted, that tongue poking out farther.

"We'd talked about it some. Before …," Jay allowed. Before life had taken another heaping shit on them. "Talked about maybe offering them my place. If it's only for the six weeks or so. Give everyone a bit of space and privacy."

"Hmm …," he grunted again and just eyed him, tapping the palm of his hand against the arm of his chair, giving Jay another examination.

"Usually I'm not there much," Jay provided. Usually being the operative word. And he was pretty sure from the way Voight was looking at him they both knew that. For what he was paying for rent, for months he hadn't been there enough nights a week for it to be worth it. But that'd changed the past two weeks. Especially this week. He was getting his money's worth. And right now, he so didn't want to be getting his money's worth. There were other places he wanted to be. Needed to be.

"Well, we'll keep that in mind," Voight said – not calling him on how lax the offer was in that exact moment. How it probably wasn't realistic. "But think I should have something lined up for them by the end of next week. So, we'll just see how it goes."

Jay allowed a little nod. "Offer's there …"

"Appreciate that," Voight allowed and kept his stare on him. Jay just sitting there, staring back at him. "So about this weekend …?" Voight restated.

Jay sat up a bit straighter again, realizing he hadn't answered the question. "Yea," he allowed. "I don't mind. I'll talk to her about it."

Voight nodded and again moved back to his desk, picking up a pen, which Jay took as a sign he was allowed to take his leave - which he was more than ready to do. So he rose but Voight gazed at him again.

"Might want to think about putting in for the Friday or the Monday," Voight put to him. "Do that cabin trip you've been talkin' about. Might do all of you some good to get out of here for a few days."

Jay stared at him. His mind processing but somehow struggling to process. Anything with a layer of emotion to it just wasn't clicking these days. Or he tried to shut them down when they did crop up because the things he was feeling were just too hard to processed. Maybe they were things that men just weren't built to process. Emotions they weren't allowed to feel. Maybe ones they weren't supposed to feel. But he was feeling them and they were aching. So hard.

"Yea …," he finally managed. "I can see how she feels about that too."

Voight gave a barely visible sway of a head nod, near pouting at him as he did. But there weren't words so Jay again took a step toward the door.

"Jay," Voight called at him again, though, when he'd just nearly made his escape and forced himself to turn around to look at him. "You're alright. It's going to be alright."

"Yea … OK … thanks, boss," he mumbled with an edge and again moved to leave.

"Not talkin' to you as your boss," Voight rasped at him more firmly and Jay again forced himself to look back at the man.

He was just sitting there tapping his pen against the edge of his desk. Staring at him. Weighing him. Scrutinizing him in a way he hated. And somehow he hated more that in that moment that scrutiny wasn't just as his boss. Because he didn't know how he felt about that either. He didn't know about that connection they'd forged that now couldn't be broken. That he wasn't just his boss anymore. That he wasn't just the father … or father figure … of his fiancée. Or his future father-in-law. Those had been hard enough pills to swallow. To rectify in his head. To come to accept that that was a person that Voight was going to be in his life. But now he was the man who was the grandfather of his unborn child. That he had fathered a grandchild for Voight but that kid had never come to be. That now his only grandchild was going to be coming home that weekend and living in his house and staring him and Erin in the face as they tried to work through this when Jay already didn't know how they were working through this.

They were. But they weren't. They were emotionally stalled. Because they'd both spent their lives emotionally stalled. Because they were fucking damaged and now they'd just been kicked.

Daddy issues.

Maybe this was a really fucking daddy issue. One Jay hadn't thought about before. That he was the daddy with the issue. Only he wasn't. Not now. And now … it was likely going to be a long time before he ever had a daddy issue of his very own again. If ever. Right now it felt like it wouldn't be ever. And that stung too.

"I've got three kids that tell me it's going to be alright," he put to him more directly but in usual Voight vagueness that only counted for anything since Erin had told him that Voight and his wife had had miscarriages. One before Justin and a bunch more before they had Ethan. But Jay didn't know that made him feel better even if it seemed to give Erin some sort of touchstone.

"Yea, well, we aren't all you," Jay said.

Voight sighed a bit and sat back more in his chair, tapping his pen in his hand now. "Look, Jay, when something like this happens …," he sighed harder and gave his head a shake. "It's something that takes time to wrap your head around." He stopped his motion with his pen and started at it for a long moment. "Maybe you don't ever really wrap your head around. But you get farther from it. Just like any other loss. So just … give it time."

Jay stared at him blankly. "Can I go now?"

Voight smacked but then shrugged. So Jay again moved, this time getting out the door before Voight called out again. "E's got a game tonight," he rasped. "Been asking after you, if Erin hadn't mentioned."

Jay cast him a look over his shoulder from the bullpen. Voight had gone back to paperwork – now actually using the pen – but glanced up.

"Lot of times, it's best to focus on what – who – you've still got in your life rather than what you've lost," Voight put bluntly. "In my experience."

And that was it. He looked back to his work and Jay stood staring at him. Trying to figure out if that warranted telling him again they weren't all him. That they didn't all want to be him. That he could take his advice and shove it up his ass. Or if there was some way he could put that into action. If it might actually work.

And he just didn't fucking know. Just like he felt like he didn't fucking know a whole lot anymore.

Life could be so fucking cruel. And it liked to remind him of that at every fucking stage of his life – over and over.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: I've been updating regularly the past few days and I know FF hasn't been bumping and I've gotten some feedback about people not getting alerts too.**

 **So these are the chapters that have been posted:**

 **Who You Gonna Call (Chapter 124)**

 **Now (Chapter 125)**

 **Breakfast Smoothie (Chapter 111)**

 **Hungry Caterpillar (Chapter 127)**

 **What You Can Offer (Chapter 130)**

 **Priorities (Chapter 131)**

 **Your readership, reviews and feedback are always much appreciated.**


	142. Making Excuses

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 138 - What You've Got.**

Jay watched as Ethan shoveled the strawberry frozen non-diary "yogurt" that was more of a sorbet into his mouth like someone was likely to take it away from him. Though, Jay supposed he could understand that. It wasn't often that they found any sort of sweet treat that was acceptable for Eth to eat. Since Erin had discovered that this place met Eth's dietary requirements, it'd pretty much become a weekly staple of the summer thus far. Though, Eth likely still thought that if Voight found out they were taking him there weekly, the treat would somehow be yanked away. That wasn't going to happen, though, if Ethan managed to keep his filter up and not divulge that this had turned into a summer ritual. So far he'd been doing OK with that. If he managed to last the whole summer? That remained to be seen. Jay wasn't sure he'd hedge bets on Eth managing his filter that well, though. That was asking a little much.

"You're going to give yourself brain freeze," he commented at Eth's rapid pace.

The kid glanced up at him from shoving the food into his mouth. "It's so good," Eth provided with a mucky full mouth.

"So maybe you want to eat a bit slower so it lasts a bit longer," Jay put to him a bit more sternly.

Eth gazed at him before letting out a little sigh and sitting a little straighter at the table and going a little slower. A little. Though, it at least basically made him look a lot less like some sort of street kid who hadn't eaten in days.

"What are we doing after this?" Eth inquired – this time swallowing before speaking.

Jay shrugged and stirred his mix around a bit more.

He could really take or leave the whole frozen yogurt thing. It didn't do as much for him as it seemed to Eth and Erin.

Ice cream seemed to be a big thing with them. Especially this sundae crap – with pick your own flavors and toppings. Something about some ice cream place near the house growing up. Or a gelato place or Italian ice place or something. Something in Little Italy and undoubtedly likely owned by another person that either Voight's or his wife's family had known for generations. Which, Jay knew, for the kind of people Voight rolled with – for the kind of Chicago that Voight was – that was just Chicago. But something about it made him prickle too. It seemed like about community and more about the old guard, that he wasn't sure was the kind of Chicago he wanted to be living in – or at least the kind he wanted to get in bed with.

But he'd accepted Erin's defence of "it's just ice cream. It's not some mob front." He wasn't sure he entirely believed that. Not with the kind of people Voight knew at his Social Club. Not when he had connections with the Outfit. And not when they basically lived just outside of Little Italy. Even if it now disguised itself as the medical district or gentrified itself as University Village, it was a community with a whole lot of Chicago history - good and bad. Not when he'd become acutely aware that both Voight and Erin labeled the family's home as being in the "Near West Side" – never breaking down exactly what area that really meant.

But Jay had let it go. Because he knew how Erin was with ice cream and even if he wasn't as all about it as her, he could certainly get on-board the whole ice cream thing. At least if it meant pissing her off by stealing her toppings or mix-ins, which usually was why he went along with the whole ice cream thing. Part of their careful flirting that usually was more designed to antagonize each other with the tease more than anything else.

They likely would've had a completely different relationship with ice cream right about now, if things had worked out a little differently. That he might've seen it and perceived it a different way. That maybe it couldn't be something he teased her about by picking out the good bits just to piss her off. Because she might've been sending him out on an ice cream runs for different reasons than reliving this apparent summer ritual. Though that hadn't been how things had worked out …

So instead he'd just made himself buy into this supposed summer ritual that Erin was reliving – or ensuring was provided – for Ethan.

Jay hadn't really had that sort of ritual. And even though he'd gotten to see that Voight was a family man and did have a softer side when it came to his kids – it was still weird to imagine him taking kids out for ice cream.

But maybe that had more to do with him than it did to do with Voight. Jay still found it so strange to see any man – at least from Voight's generation … his own father's generation - acting like a father. Being softer or doting. Jay hadn't experienced that. Maybe Will had gotten some of that out of their dad. Though, he didn't think Will had gotten any ritualized trips to the ice cream shoppe either.

Jay actually thought about the close he'd gotten was going down to the corner store and getting a Coke. Most of which would be shaken and sprayed at each other rather than actually drank. But he supposed that counted for something. Not that his mom – or dad –had been particularly impressed when he'd come home all sticky from the soda and his white uniform shirts stained by the Coke. Or better yet – Orange Crush, which ranked high on the list of favorites of his as a kid. He'd graduated to Mountain Dew and eventually Red Bull and than copious amounts of coffee.

He figured he'd managed to single-handedly prove that none of those things had an overtly adverse affect on the sperm count. Though, he supposed he'd significantly revised his eating habits since getting home from Afghanistan. He'd had to. It'd been part of his coping and trying to settle back into civilian life. He needed to cut out a whole lot of crap to find his footing. To be able to function. To start going in the directions he wanted to go again. To be of worth. To feel of worth.

"Should likely head to your house and get started on your homework," he muttered.

Eth let out a defeated sound and Jay looked back down the curb they'd planted their asses on while they ate. Eth couldn't really eat and walk. And with him tremoring, him eating in the Bronco was a bad idea. Unless Jay felt like doing major clean-up – of the kid's shirt and of the truck. Which he didn't.

"Can't we just do something else for a while," Eth allowed in a small whine.

Jay looked at him a bit more firmly. "This is this afternoon's something else," he said. "Snack before heading home to do your homework."

Eth repeated the defeated sound and gazed at him. "We could go look at TVs," he suggested with bright eyes.

Jay shrugged. "I don't need help looking at flatscreens."

Eth just eyed him. "Why do you need a new TV anyway?" he asked.

"Because I want one," Jay said.

"Why?" Ethan asked.

"Because…," Jay said.

"I'm not two," Ethan pressed. "Because isn't an answer. You want it for the horse garage?" Ethan pressed.

Jay let out a small sound of amusement and glanced at him again and put some more in the yogurt in his mouth. This time letting it melt before he provided any sort of answer. "We actually haven't put in an offer on that yet," he said.

"Why?" Eth asked. "I thought you liked it?"

Jay let out a slow breath and gave Eth a little shrug. "I guess we're still thinking about how we feel about it."

"Erin seemed to like it," Eth said.

"Yea …," Jay acknowledged. "She did."

But that had been on the brief weekend when they thought they would have a baby in their arms in a matter of months. That wasn't in their future anymore. Not right now. With where him and Erin were right now, part of Jay had to wonder if it would be ever. Part of him had to wonder if they were going to pull through this at all. Or if she was going to push him out entirely. He could feel her trying, as much as he was trying to gently push back and not let her. But he didn't really know how hard to push. Because he didn't want her to pull away entirely because of his pushing.

"Did you find something you like better?" Eth asked.

"We actually haven't looked at anything since then," Jay provided.

Eth squinted at him. "Are you just gonna move into Erin's place instead? Since it's better than yours."

Jay made an amused sound and shook his head at him. "We haven't really talked about that either. Lately."

The squint got deeper. "Are you guys fighting or something?"

"No," Jay said flatly. But it was definitely lacking in conviction. Though, it was the truth. They weren't fighting. They were just at a standstill. Floundering might be a better description for it. But he wasn't about to try to educate Eth on the intricacies of that statement. And he didn't want to be the one fielding questions about any of this. He didn't want to become a victim of Eth's filter, which might really cause him and Erin to fight if he said the wrong thing and Eth repeated it in the wrong way at the wrong time to the wrong person.

"Then are you or Erin angry at dad right now?" Eth asked after some more careful examination.

Jay shook his head. "I'm not," he allowed. "You'd have to ask Erin."

"Well, then, are you mad at me?" Eth pressed.

"No," Jay told him more firmly. "Why would you think that?"

It was Eth's turn to shrug. "Because you haven't been coming over and hanging out until baseball the other night and Erin is acting all weird and she doesn't want to do anything but make me do homework and then watch TV and then she leaves as soon as dad gets home even though she says she's doing nothing that night."

Jay just made a sound of acknowledgement and looked back to his frozen yogurt, taking another bite – because he didn't know how to respond to that. He didn't think he really wanted to respond to that. But it was just another reminder that whatever was going on with him and Erin – whatever had happened or now hadn't happened – was having an impact on more than just them.

"No one's mad at you, Eth," he provided firmly but quietly as he stirred around the sludge of his melting treat.

"If you aren't mad at me or dad and you and Erin aren't fighting, how come you aren't coming over anymore?" Eth asked.

Jay brought his eyes up more sternly in an attempt to shut this down. "Ethan," he said, "I came to your game. I'm spending time with you now. I'm taking you home and getting you started on homework."

"Does that mean Dad and Erin are working something hard right now?" he asked.

Jay shrugged. "I think they both just had some paperwork to deal with," he said.

He thought that was likely accurate for Voight. He knew that there'd been some grumbling at everyone in the bullpen about him wanting updates on all their cases and files because he was supposed to get some sort of update ready for the Ivory Tower. All this reshuffling and examination and analysis of stats in this ongoing PR effort to try to legitimize the work of the police and downplay any incidents or criticisms that were growing in the city.

It was just the kind of thing that made Jay think he never wanted to take his sergeant's exam. That he'd be perfectly happy going through his career as just a detective. You took enough flak about how you did the job as a detective. But as soon as you got any sort of seniority – were given a team – you just ended up with a whole lot more. Piles of paperwork. Accountable to more people who never seemed to remember what it was really like on the job. The kind of people who seemed more concerned with putting up roadblocks to you doing your job than helping you make it easier so you could really serve and protect the city. It was all such bullshit.

As for Erin, Jay just got the impression that she didn't feel like Ethan duty that night. Because the farther they got away from the miscarriage the more space she seemed to be wanting. And that night – that day – it was clear she wanted space.

So rather than her really get angry at Eth – for them to fight about something stupid that she'd likely end up feeling bad about for snapping at him about – he'd seen the signs and he'd volunteered to pick the kid up and get him home. To sit with him for homework and help him get dinner started and hang around until Voight came home. And she'd accepted his offer without putting up a fight. And that had to count for something. She hadn't argued or pushed back. So maybe that was progress. Even though he'd rather be sitting at her place with her, making sure she didn't find a hole to fall into. But he would try to convince himself that this was helping her too. It was helping them.

"So things aren't busy at work?" Eth asked. "With like cases?"

Jay shrugged. "Same busy as it ever is."

"So you don't have something big or important right now?"

Jay gave him a firmer look. "You know we don't talk to you about specifics about work."

"I know," Eth sighed. "You're Intelligence and a black unit and undercover and you might have to kill me just because I know who all you are."

Jay raised an eyebrow at him. "You told you that last part?"

He shrugged. "Well, isn't it bad that I know who all you are? That's not very top secret."

Jay made an amused noise and shook his head, looking back to his yogurt to this time take a spoonful. Eth had a point. The kid wasn't exactly the kind of person Intelligence wanted to know the nitty-gritty details of their existence. Not with his filter. But it was what it was. You'd have to hope against hopes that there'd never be a situation where Eth knowing "too much" would cause them any sorts of problems. Lots of people knew "too much" about them. But if it was Eth who blew their cover – that would mean some big fallout. And it would likely potentially mean that something as big – or bigger – was going on than the when, how and why Voight had lost his wife. And, Jay didn't want to even imagine what kind of fallout that situation would bring. That would be a whole different level of Voight off his leash than he'd ever seen. That would send the fire raining down. And it would likely mean the entire combustion of the unit – and the people within it.

"So more reason to keep working on that filter," Jay put to him flatly.

Eth eyed him. "I was only asking because Dad said that if Thursday's not busy, he's goin' to pick me up at school and we're going to watch the Parade of Sails. There's a Viking ship this year. And some Spanish ship of some famous explorer or something that Dad wants to see. But he doesn't want to go see all the ships at Navy Pier because he says the whole city is going be full of savages this weekend because of Lalapalooza."

"Ah …," Jay allowed.

He thought that was likely a bit of a half-life that Voight was telling his kid. Didn't doubt that Voight was less than impressed with the music event and the boat show and tourist season all happening on the same weekend. It hadn't had much of an impact on Intelligence but the city was definitely redistributing patrol to deal with it. There was overtime to be had for those who wanted it. But Jay thought the Voight-ism on the summer festivals likely had more to do with preparing Eth for the reality that he wasn't going to be there that weekend. That the offer of going to see this Parade of Sails thing was to try to distract Eth from the fact that whatever the outcome, the kid was going to be out of the city that weekend, after talking for weeks about this fucking Viking ship. That Eth was either going to be down helping his brother's wife and son move or that Jay would talk Erin into wanting to watch the kid and potentially take the kid to the cabin. But he hadn't really had a chance to broach that topic with her yet and he wasn't really sure how much he wanted to do that favor for Voight. Not right now. Not with how Erin and him were functioning and how much he just wanted some alone time with her – with her actually talking to him – so they could try to fucking figure out how to work through this. If they could. Because they needed to.

"Are you and Erin going to Lalapalooza?" Eth asked. "Because you talked about it before but now you haven't said anything about it."

Jay shook his head. "Nah. Not going."

"Why?" Eth asked.

He shrugged. "Tickets are expensive."

"But I thought you wanted to see like the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Radiohead?" Eth asked.

Jay just shrugged. Yea, they'd talked about it. Yea, they'd played some of the different bands' music for Eth. But they'd procrastinated – waiting on schedules and looking at furlough – and now it wasn't something they'd even mentioned to each other for weeks. He actually thought he'd forgotten it was that weekend until Eth brought it up.

"Crowds," Jay provided.

Lame excuse. Music festivals were all about the crowds. But, honestly, he wasn't much for crowds anymore anyways. He wasn't sure he'd be much for loud noise in a crowded environment and the potential for people doing stupid shit around him either. When he was at work – in control – that was one thing. Subjecting himself to those situations as "fun" was another.

He wasn't sure how much he wanted to go with Erin to a music festival anyways either. It sounded like that had been part of her previous life. Maybe part that she didn't want to revisit. Maybe a part that Jay didn't want to see.

Though, maybe, it'd just be an opportunity to make some new memories together. Maybe that's what they really needed right now.

"Well, do you think you can see it from Erin's apartment?" Eth asked.

Jay gave another little shrug. "Yea, likely," he allowed. "But you'd just see the crowds and probably wouldn't be able to hear much."

Eth eyed him. "We've watched the air show from Erin's balcony," he said.

Jay allowed him a small smile. "Kinda different, kid."

Eth shrugged at him. "Well, maybe we could watch the Tall Ships from her balcony since Dad says the pier is going to be too crowded and he doen't want to pay forty dollars to stand in line all day to go on the Viking ship. I told him that we could go on the Galeon instead since we've been reading about it and even though it's sweet that explorers used it, it's way awesomer that pirates caught it and used it. So it might not be a Viking ship but it's pretty much like getting to tour a pirate ship. So that's awesome. But he still says he just wants to go see the Parade of Sails and not go to the rest of the festival."

"You and your dad talk about … a lot of different things," Jay allowed after that ramble.

Eth just shrugged again and dug around his yogurt, picking out chunks of pineapple and strawberry slices to pop in his mouth. "He likes cars and motorcycles and ships and stuff. And history," he said. "And I think he likes talking about them to me because it's like … educational."

Jay shrugged. "Maybe," he said. "Or maybe he just likes talking to you."

Eth flared his nostrils a bit and looked back up at him. "I actually think he just wants to go to the Parade of Sails and not to the actual festival because he doesn't like being around me right now."

"Ethan," Jay put to him patronizingly.

"It's true," Eth said. "It's basically when Mom died and when I got hurt. And he gets all sad every year when it's now and he looks at me funny. And the Tall Ships only come once every four years, Jay. And Mom liked boats too. So we went. I remember that there was a whole pig on a spit and it smelled so good but we didn't get any. And I remember the lines being really long and I remember that we went out on one of the boats and we got to pull the lines and that the sails were so loud when they caught the wind out on the lake. So it must've been awesome for me to remember all that because there's lots of stuff I don't remember. But I can do the math and I know that that must've been the last time we went. Because we didn't go when I was nine because that's when all the bad stuff was going on with Justin. So what I remember is when I was like five or six and that's the last time Mom would've gotten to go. And now it's basically the anniversary and now Dad doesn't want to go."

Jay stared at him. Processing that. All of it. Again. Having to look into the eyes of someone with loss again. To see those eyes staring back at him. To know that every year that loss got relived. That he knew that every day it was relived in someway.

And to know that once again – right now – even in his own relationship, he got to be the one left behind. Again. That he was fine but the baby was gone. That Erin was hurting. That she was experiencing the loss in a different way than him. That maybe she blamed him. Or maybe he blamed himself. Or maybe she thought he blamed her. Or maybe he again just didn't want to see those eyes looking back at him – not from his own fiancée. Not in the mirror when he felt like he wasn't allowed to have those eyes of his own.

So maybe they all needed to go somewhere with no mirrors. Maybe they all needed a distraction. Maybe they all needed to get out of Chicago.

Maybe Voight didn't need his battered son looking at him – wanting to go to something that had belonged to his wife and her memory – when he was trying to mop up for his other son who'd contributed to those losses.

Maybe Erin didn't want to look Voight or Ethan in the eyes while she was dealing with her own loss and she felt like her loss didn't measure to the loss her family had experienced.

And maybe Jay needed to start learning how to look all of them in the eyes. Everyone. To be there in that way. To not dodge it or shy away from it. To learn to feel it and to feel like he was allowed to feel it.

But he didn't know if he could do that. If he was ready to do that.

But he did know this was something he could do. Something he was ready for.

"Actually, Eth," he said quietly before bringing his eyes back to the kid's. Those deep eyes that had a spark in them but always looked a little too sad and a little too pained. This strange color to them that he hadn't seen a matching pair on anyone else he'd ever met, they were so unique. Though, he suspected a lot of that uniqueness had to do with what a kid that age had already endured and been forced to preserve. And if that kid could do that – he could do this. For him. For Erin. For Voight. Maybe partially for himself somewhere in there. "I think maybe you dad has been making some excuses about the Tall Ships because, me and Erin were going to surprise you and take you up to the cabin on Friday night."

"What?" Eth's eyes got bigger – brighter, happier. "Really? Is that why you aren't going to Lalapalooza?"

Jay just allowed a thin smile – no head movement – because he didn't want to lie to the kid. More than he was already lying to the kid.

"So that's why Dad just wants to go see the ships come into port?!" Eth said with some relief and dove back into his yogurt. "Is it why Dad and Erin have to work late tonight too?"

Jay just gave a little shrug to that.

"That's awesome," Eth muttered happily. "I can't wait," he said smiling into his snack and then smiling at Jay. "Don't worry. I won't tell Erin you ruined the surprise. Promise."

Jay hoped he kept that promise because Erin was definitely going to be surprised.

But maybe it was best. For all of them.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Your feedback and reviews are appreciated.**


	143. Talk to Me

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 142 - Making Excuses.**

"What did you want me to say to him?" Jay scoffed at her with such an edge of anger that she stopped what she was doing on her phone and gazed at where he was in the kitchen – making dinner, when she told him she wasn't hungry, that she didn't want to eat, and that she really didn't want to eat one of the health-conscious meals he'd make. If she did get hungry that night, she'd get take-out or she'd go down the street and pick out some candy bar or bag of chips or something that she normally didn't get to eat because she was stuck spending so much time with Ethan, which apparently Jay had volunteered them to do again.

"That he doesn't get to dictate our personal time," she drilled back at him – giving him warning eyes at his annoyed tone.

Jay glared at her at that, cocking an eyebrow. "Really?" he put to her still with that edge that was now dripping with sarcasm. "Since when?"

And he had a point.

Hank – via Ethan – had completely monopolized their personal time for the past year. More than a year. She'd say that at least ninety-five percent of her time outside of the job was taken up by Hank and Ethan. Dictated by them. Dedicated to them. And that figure – that ninety-five percent – it might be being generous. She was pretty sure that some weeks it was more like hundred percent. She was pretty sure that tonight Jay would argue that it was more like 99.9 percent of the time.

But she was sick of it. She was taking a Hank break. An Ethan break. Just a whole fucking family break. Because it was too hard to be over there right now.

She hated the way Hank tried to check in with her. How he gave her that concerned father look. How he felt like he needed to somehow step up his Dad Game and focus it directly on her. How he clearly wanted her to talk about it – if not to him, than to someone. And he kept expressing that in backward ways. "You seen Charles lately?", "Think he gets breakfast at that place you like to get your toast and brew", "Doesn't he usually get a drink at Molly's on Thursdays?" Or worse, he'd say something about Jay. Trying to gauge where they were at. If she was talking to him at least. All the while, he'd sit there sipping at his coffee or his whiskey and acting like all this was just passing small talk.

Hank didn't do small talk. They both knew that. And it was just so transparent.

He didn't need to be checking in on her. This wasn't a banana peel. Not like he was making it out to be.

She just didn't want to think about or talk about it or relive it over and over again. She just wanted to put it in the fucking past and move on.

But going to Hank's place wasn't making that easy.

So she went. When she had to. She helped out with Ethan and his fucking tedious homework and his fucking even more tedious appointments and his fucking even more tedious baseball practices – and then she went home. As soon as Hank appeared, it was her cue to leave. She wasn't going to hang around and make small talk. Hang around and watch the Cubs or whatever other fucking game was on or watch fucking Star Wars Rebels or some fucking Discovery channel Dinosaur shit. Or listen to Hank and Ethan argue about what he was allowed and wasn't allowed to watch on Netflix and argue even more about if his screen-time had expired or if the had time left for videogames – and whether that'd be on the Xbox or the tablet. Or even worse – listen to Hank's tutoring tactics to get Ethan to finish the fucking homework that he never fucking finished.

She was just so done right now.

But Jay was just proving that being home wasn't much better. In fact, it might be worse. Because he wanted to talk even more badly than Hank and his eyes told a completely different story of hurt and frustration with her. And she just couldn't deal with it. She didn't want to deal with it.

She'd been trying to make him keep his distance too. To just give her some space right now. That's all she wanted. She just needed some time to regroup. Some time to be alone and to maybe remember who the fuck she was when it didn't include Hank or Ethan or Jay. To just get some time where she could listen to her own music and watch her own shows and eat her own food and do absolutely nothing without anyone criticism her about it. Without anyone jumping on her or touching her – or trying to touch her or comfort her or poke at her. To get to know the feeling of her own skin again. To get comfortable with herself again.

And it was like none of them would give her that. None of them got it.

All fucking men. The three of them didn't get it. They couldn't get it. They'd never have to be there. And, if they didn't have to be there, the least they could do was give her the time and the space for her to experience there and to move passed it. At her own pace. In her own way. Without them poking at her and poking their noses where they didn't belong along the way.

She just needed the three of them to fuck off. And Adam and Kevin and Al too. To all just stop fucking looking at her and checking in with her and giving her those looks any time she moved. Especially if she went to the bathroom or left her desk to go out for lunch without inviting one of them. Or having to come and stand next to her while she fucking poured herself a cup of coffee in the break room. Or tried to get a few minutes of peace to eat her lunch or breakfast without being stared at.

She was a grown woman. She didn't need this much attention.

Not about this.

It wasn't that big of deal.

But it was.

It didn't matter how much she told herself that lots of people had miscarriages. Or that she wasn't even really sure if she wanted a baby – or at least if she wanted a baby right then. She knew that she'd wanted that baby. She'd decided she wanted that baby. That it would be OK. Because she was an adult. Because it was hers and Jay's. Because they figured shit out and they made it work – no matter how fucked up things got in the process.

It didn't matter that she was trying to convince herself that it wasn't a good time for a baby. That it was too soon or too fast. That her and Jay hadn't really been together that long. That they hadn't even really known each other that long. That they weren't even married yet. That they didn't have their living situation in order. That they didn't have their careers in order. That she wasn't where she wanted to be in life and career to have a baby. That it was just her body confirming all these things for her. Making it easier on her. Making the decision for her.

But it should've been her decision. It should've been her choice. And she'd made it. She'd committed to it.

And what had happened – that loss – it wasn't making anything easier. It wasn't making all the excuses she'd come up with feel more right. It was really just making her sad. And it was really just making her want to think about it – all of it – even less.

She just wanted space. To be. To adjust. To try to find some sort of new normal after her normal had been shaken up.

After she'd been given a glimpse of the future. And it'd shaken her. It'd scared her and it excited her.

And now she didn't know how ot feel. Now it felt like everything she'd been feeling since Jay put that ring on her feeling might've been wrong. Too fast. Too soon. That they didn't jive enough. That they were in different places. In their lives and their hopes and their dreams and their desires and their goals. That they wanted different things. Needed different things. That they were just too different of people.

And she didn't know what to say to him about any of it.

Not with that look he kept getting on his face. Not the way his eyes looked lately. Not with that frown.

So she told him to fuck off. To leave her alone. To give her the space she wanted.

And when he didn't listen. When he pushed. She gave him attitude. She gave him sass. She gave him sarcasm and snark. Hoping that maybe then he'd get the message. Maybe then he'd just go away.

But he wasn't.

"I'm not going all the way up to the cabin for one day," she hissed at him, and looked back to her phone. Away from him. And not bothering to respond to either of his questions.

But she felt him shrug and go back to whatever the fuck it was he was cooking over there. It smelled disgusting.

That was a lie.

It smelled delicious. But she still wasn't likely going to eat it. Just to prove her point. Just to piss him off and push him away more. Even though she knew he'd just clean up and put the abundant leftovers in the fridge and that she would pull it out nearly as soon as he was out of the door and help herself. Because her stomach was growling just smelling his culinary efforts.

"Hank said—"

"Since when do you call him Hank," she muttered under her breath.

He heard and made an annoyed noise and corrected himself for her sake – let her win – even though they both knew he didn't really need to. He just didn't feel like arguing with her. That was clear. But it was making her fight back even harder.

"Voight said if we put in for furlough for Friday or Monday … or both … he'd fast track and get it approved," Jay said.

She snorted and cast him a look. "For both of us? At the last minute? In summer?"

He glared at her. "Yes, Erin," he said evenly but she could see that he was starting to seethe.

"Sounds like favorship to me," she said and looked back to her phone again.

"I think it's more that he's trying to make his own life easier," Jay put back to her.

"Surprise," Erin muttered.

But heard a clatter and gave the kitchen a passing glance to see Jay coming over into the living space. He looked more pissed than before and reached and yanked the phone out of her hand, even though she gave him a death glare. He just returned it even more firmly and put it on the after side of the coffee table, setting himself on the couch down from her, leaning against the back so he could stare at her, his arm hanging over the back like he always did when he wanted to have some deep meaningful talk and look into her eyes while he did it.

She didn't really feel like them gazing at each other and she felt even less like talking to him. So she just crossed her arms and sunk back into the sofa – even though she knew it made her look like a sullen teen. Maybe that posture would just prove to the both of them how unready they were for a baby. How it was a good thing that she'd had the miscarriage.

But then he reached and batted at her elbow, pulling gently at her crossed arms. "Stop that," he muttered with annoyance at her.

She gave him a warning glance and crossed her arms even tighter, fighting against the grip.

He sighed at her and let his hand fall away from his efforts.

"He's trying to make all of our lives easier," he put to her like it should be obvious.

She snorted and shook her head. "How does us using up our furlough to take Ethan to your cabin make our lives easier?" she glared at him.

"Erin, c'mon," he put to her. "We both know that if Hank takes Eth this weekend, that he's not going to be much help. He'll be in the way. He'll likely get agitated about the whole thing. Or worse, him and Justin will have some sort of blow up again and then we'll all get derailed by that dynamic again."

"We're all going to get derailed anyway," Erin provided, staring straight ahead.

She really wished she had the TV on. At least then she could pretend she was much more interested in whatever was on than this conversation. Instead she could try to pretend that she was listening to the record they had on. But she hadn't cranked it loud enough to make it seem like a major distraction and if she started acting like it was affecting her hearing, Jay would just get up to go turn it down – or off.

"Yeah, exactly," Jay pressed right back. "This whole thing is going to throw Eth off. So why not make the brunt of it a little softer by at least removing him from the equation of the actual move."

"Not our problem," Erin said.

"It is our problem," Jay argued firmly, staring at her with even more annoyance. "Your dad is going to be pretty fucking distracted with dealing with Olive and Henry. That means it's going to be us dealing with the Ethan fall-out—"

"Also not our problem," Erin said.

Jay made a noise and rolled his head onto the back of the sofa and stared at the ceiling.

"Yes, it is," he said in firm staccato. "And since it is, I'd rather set it up so he's in less of a fucking tizzy than he will be if he goes down there this weekend."

"I'm not wasting my furlough babysitting Ethan," she said.

He gave he an annoyed look. "We told him we'd take him to the cabin this summer."

"No, we told him we'd take him some time this year. And not because Hank wants to dump his problem on us," she argued back.

Jay made a noise and shook his head. "You're looking at this the wrong way," he told the ceiling and then sat up straighter. "I, for one, wouldn't mind getting a long weekend at the cabin. I don't really care that we have to take Ethan."

She shrugged. "Then you go. Take Ethan."

Jay made an amused sputter and she caught his eyes. He put his arm back over the back of the sofa. "We both know that's not going to happen. Hank doesn't trust me with him that much."

She gave him another 'not my problem' shrug and leaned forward to retrieve her phone but he grabbed it out of her hand angrily as she straightened and this time kept it firm in his grip – drilling his eyes into her.

"I think getting away for a weekend would be good for all of us," he said. "Not just Voight. Not just Ethan. Us too."

She shook her head with a little shrug. "I don't," she provided.

Jay glared at her but then tossed her phone on the cushion between them and rose, heading back to the kitchen. "Fine," he said. "But I already told Eth we were taking him. So now you get to explain to him why that's not happening too."

She stared after him, grabbed her phone and followed him – planting her hands on the counter opposite him. "Why the fuck did you do that?" she demanded.

He gave her a shrug and went back to stirring whatever it was he had on the stove. "Something to do with him telling me that it was the anniversary of his mom's death and how he feels like his dad can't even look at him right now," Jay said. "But I guess that's another fucking topic we can't talk about right now."

She glared at his back. "You were around last year. Sure you've looked at all the news articles and whatever files you could get your hands on. Didn't think you needed some sort of special notification."

He glanced over his shoulder. "Yea, sorry," he dripped. "Forgot to put in my calendar: 'Death of Voight's wife'. Will be sure to add it for next year."

"If there is a next year …" Erin muttered.

Jay smacked the spoon onto the stove, causing it to splatter and spun to glare at her. This time it was him who leaned against the counter behind him and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Why are you trying to pick a fight with me?" he put to her.

She shrugged. "No."

"Then why are you saying hurtful shit?" he demanded. "'If there is a next year'. What the fuck does that mean, Erin?"

She shrugged again. "I told you. I just wanted some space tonight."

"I've given you lots of space," he said firmly but so flatly. "What I want is us to fucking talk to each other."

She ran her hand through her hair, staring at the counter. "We've talked about it enough, Jay. We've talked about it over and over again. There's nothing left to say."

"I feel like there's lots left to say," Jay said. "I feel like our whole relationship just stopped. We can't talk about this. We stopped talking about moving. We haven't talked about the wedding or transfers. We stopped having sex—"

She glared at him. "Somehow after having my insides scraped out, I'm really not all that interested in being poked and prodded right now," she spat at him. "Sorry that's such an inconvenience to you."

Jay's eyes softened slightly – flickering with sadness. "That's not how I meant it," he said more carefully. "I just … meant … You won't let me touch you. At all," he added with clear sadness. "You won't let me hug you. You hardly let me sit near you. You barely want me around and you hardly look at me at work."

He sounded defeated – broken – and that broke her. It broke her more that he'd gone to staring at his feet – or more likely realizing at how much her kitchen floor needed to be mopped – than her. His arms protecting himself – from her, she realized – even more than before.

She sighed and stared at the countertop. Stared at the ingredients and coming to the slow realization that he'd been working on one of her favorite curries - one of their favorite curries - and channa dahl. Something they rarely got to eat – because Ethan couldn't and wouldn't. Because when they were going out or doing take-out, they rarely picked Indian. Because it seemed like they rarely cooked real, full meals at home. And when they did it was quick and easy – a chicken breast thrown in the oven, a salad, an omelet, some boiled pasta. This was something that took time – to ready the ingredients, to get it to taste the way it was supposed to. To have the right consistency and that aroma that was filling the condo. That she'd been so wrapped up in herself and wanting him to just leave that she hadn't even let herself register what he was making. That she hadn't gone over to help with the chopping and the dicing and measuring out the spices just so. To stir it on the stovetop as it simmered.

She sighed and looked up, gazing at him until he cast her a downward glance from his floor level examination.

"I'm just not ready for sex yet, Jay," she said.

He let out a sigh and shook his head and looked at the floor. "That's not what I meant by it—"

"I know," she acknowledged.

"I just …," he shook his head again and let out a slow breath. "There's … other ways to be intimate. That we usually are. To connect again. And it just feels like all of them … any of them ... you just keep pushing me away."

Erin drummed her fingers on the counter and finally straightened a bit, running her fingers through her hair again. But then realized she wanted her hands back on the counter for support – for this stand-off that was feeling less and less like that but it still wasn't easy.

"I'm still bleeding, Jay," she finally admitted, finding his eyes that flickered again and his face contorted into questioning concern.

He squinted at her. "What do you mean you're still bleeding?"

She made a small gesture down her body. "I'm still bleeding," she emphasized again.

He stood up straighter, his arms loosening. A clear agitation was setting it at that revelation. "That can't be normal," he pressed out. "Have you talked to the doctor?"

She nodded and ran her fingers through her hair again, pulling her hair back from her face even though part of her wanted to hide behind it.

"Yea …," she allowed. "And as long as it stays at spotting, she says it's fine. That it should stop soon. But it's just … a constant reminder of what happened. And it just makes me … not that interested in being touched right now."

Jay stared at her in silence for a long time. This quiet measuring of her and that statement. Some sort of judgment call on if he was going to press that issue more – ask her more, to demand why she hadn't told him, to get in an argument about what was and wasn't a business about her body.

"I wish you'd told me that before," he finally said with some defeat. She gave a little shrug. She was about to say something but he anticipated that and added quickly and firmly – with that edge of agitation again, "It is my business. You're my business. I care about you."

"I just didn't want to talk about it, Jay," she sighed. "I just really don't want to talk about any of it right now."

He sighed himself and shook his head, looking briefly to the floor again. "And that's what I mean," he muttered and then looked up at her. "You aren't letting me a part of this. To be there for you. You just keep pushing me away. Talking, sitting together, holding each other … even eye contact …," he sighed harder and looked down again. "It's like you don't want me to feel anything about what happened."

"What do you feel, Jay?" she put to him flatly.

Because she supposed she did want to know. And she knew that he deserved to have her want to know. To care. To try to be there for him too. She just hadn't had the capacity lately to really care. To try to be there for him the way he was there for her. She didn't know if she had the capacity that night either – but she'd try. Because he was trying too. And eventually – at some point – that really had to count for something.

The breath came out slowly again and he looked up. He gazed at her. He fidgeted and ran his hand through his own hair while he shook his head.

"I don't fucking know," he muttered. "I feel a loss too, Erin," he finally managed, locking eyes with her. "I got excited. About starting a family with you. About the baby. And right now I'm feeling like we lost the baby and now I'm losing you too because you keep telling me to get lost."

She gave him a thin smile at that.

He shook his head again and looked down. "Then when you go saying shit about 'if there is a next year' … I don't know how to fucking deal with that. Because that's exactly what it feels like – like you're working at pushing me out so there isn't a next year."

She sighed and looked at her hands white-knuckling the countertop again. "I was … upset. That's … I want there to be a next year. There will be."

His eyes locked with hers again. "In case, you haven't noticed, I really don't know what I'm doing in relationships."

"You do OK," she gave him a thin smile.

"This is the longest relationship I've had, Erin," he told her directly, giving her a little nod.

"I know," she allowed.

"I'm in new waters here. New fucking open waters," he stressed, "and I'm really trying. I really don't want to fuck this up. But I need you to meet me halfway. I just can't …," he shook his head. "I just … I don't know how to deal with this."

She gave him a little frown and let herself let go of the counter's edge. She made herself go around the island and go over to the countertop he was leaning against. Because he looked so sad too. The way he looked reflected the sadness her felt. The loss and confusion. The frustration and agitation. The reality that you didn't know what to do with yourself or how to fix it. That you couldn't sit still because you didn't want to think about it but you couldn't find the words to make it easier or better. You couldn't find a way to make yourself forget about it. TO sweep it under the carpet and just move on.

But what she could do was give him a hug. So she did that – wrapping her arms around him and resting her cheek against him. And his arms came around her, his own cheek resting against the crown of her head.

"You're doing OK," she told him.

"Doesn't really feel like it," he replied.

She shrugged against him and held him a little tighter. "Dinner smells really good," she told him. "That counts for something. A lot."

"I thought it might get you to actually eat," he said quietly.

She nodded. "It will," she agreed. "I will."

It was a start. And that was something too. It counted too. For a lot.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: For those of you who haven't noticed, I've started a new story — AFTERMATH. It is set after Justin's death. It will fill in some of the points that were glazed over in the S3 finale and likely some in S4. It will follow some of the events of S4 related to Voight/Erin and Justin's death but outside of that it will mostly just apply how the characters as depicted in this AU would interact with that experience and loss. It will then continue on with the various character arcs and story lines from the previous stories in this AU. Similar to Scenes, it won't necessarily be written chronologically and chapters/scenes will be reordered at a later time. It will be an inspiration strikes thing.**

 **I still intend to finish Scenes. So you may want to follow me as an author or sign on to follow Aftermath too so you don't miss chapters. Scenes was just getting really long and unmanageable. I think splitting it will make it easier and it will also provide space for any pivots that might be necessary due to the loss of Justin and how it's depicted on the show and if I decide to mirror or recast it closely.**

 **Which story I update in a given week will again depend on where the inspiration lies at a particular time.**

 **As always, your feedback, comments and reviews on the stories are much appreciated.**


	144. Filling Space

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **This goes after the chapter that is currently 147 — TALK TO ME.**

Erin moved her eyes away from the flickering flames of the fire when she heard the cabin door open and close. She squinted through the dim light and the smoke to watch Jay come back over to the little fire pit area.

It'd been him who'd volunteered to get Eth moved inside and put to bed. She'd almost protested a little bit.

Eth had crawled into the lounger with her at some point – likely hours ago now. Initially he'd been being goofy. He was trying to bug her. To get a smile out of her. And a rise.

But he'd eventually settled next to her – when she'd begrudgingly moved over so there was room for the both of them – so he could gaze up through the gap in the branches above her seating arrangement and point out some of the visible stars and constellations.

He'd been going through a bit of a space kick. She didn't know if it was Star Wars or the crappy science-fiction and space documentaries that Jay was sharing with him to get them all a break from baseball and dinosaurs or if it was the robotics club and all the nerds in there. But whatever it was, Hank had somehow – as usual – managed to negotiate that Eth's catch-up STEM project for the summer would be astronomy related. Maybe he wanted a dinosaur break too. Or maybe he was just trying to expand Ethan's horizons a bit. This push to introduce him to other skills and interests in things he might be good at. The hope that Eth would be able to do something productive with his life despite his challenges –that they seemed to refuse to cause disabilities in their household. Or maybe Hank just really hadn't negotiated that well and this was just what the teacher and educational assistant had decided on as a decent summer project.

Either way, Hank had sent along a fucking pile of homework for them to try to do with him that weekend. Because it needed to be done and because he'd be missing a day of class too. But most of it wasn't getting touched or looked at. Beyond badgering him to take some quiet time, to go lay in the hammock or on the dock and to fucking read a chapter of his book. That and this STEM project that Eth had to finish by the end of summer school. An astronomy project.

Hank had decided that being at the cabin and without the city lights would be a perfect opportunity for Eth to work at filling out these pages and pages of the project workbook he had to get through. Erin thought Hank would likely do better just taking Ethan to the planetarium and spending an afternoon or evening there ad nauseam. But with Olive and Henry arriving back in the city – with this living arrangements still up in the air, as far as she knew – she doubted that a planetarium trip was likely to happen. At least one facilitated by Hank. She suspected that he'd try to twist her arm into taking on that task – labeled as bonding or one-on-one time. She just wasn't too interested in taking that on. Or even this over the weekend.

But Jay had been pretty patient about helping Ethan fill in at least some of the answers last night and tonight. And, Eth actually seemed pretty interested. So that helped. At least it wasn't a fight to get him to do it. Though, she thought Eth might just be more interested in fooling around with the various sets of binoculars Jay had in the cabin. That he'd even been allowed to touch an ancient-looking pair that had belonged to Jay's grandfather and had looked like they'd survived a war. And they likely had.

Still, Eth had learned enough that he was actually able to point some things out to her in the sky. And in the midst of it a shooting star had gone passed. So then they'd just ended up laying there waiting for more. Eth had eventually fallen asleep cuddled next to her.

It wasn't that surprising. It was way passed his bedtime – his usual lights out – and Jay had been doing his best to keep him busy without running him into the ground. He'd near taken over all Ethan duties. He was just letting her be. Letting her rest. Letting her read. Letting her swat at mosquitoes as big as her head. Letting her get frustrated by the zero reception her phone had out there and the complete lack of a television inside. Not that that really matter because she was sure if there had been one it likely would've been black and white and had even less reception than her phone. But she still didn't want to think about what they were supposed to do if it rained.

The go-to option was pretty much off the table since Ethan was with them. Actually that had been the boredom buster the last trip to the cabin too. It didn't require rain. But it definitely did require a lack of Ethan in their faces, which wasn't really happening.

He was beyond excited to be at the cabin. To be fishing and splashing around in the river and out in the canoe and building fires and cooking over them. To get to drag out his sleeping bag and fishing gear and baseball glove. To try to con Jay into letting him fillet a fish with the fillet knife in his tremoring hands and to use the old Leatherman that Jay had dug out from in the cabin too – while dropping not so subtle hints that he definitely thought he was old enough to have a multi-tool or Swiss Army knife of his own now. Which he was dreaming. It'd be a long time before Hank ever approved that – if ever, with the way Eth tremored anymore.

But it was definitely a dream weekend for Eth. So she supposed that counted for something. And, even if it wasn't exactly her dream weekend, it hadn't been awful so far. They'd mostly just hung around the cabin. Jay had Eth and Bear up early and fed and pills managed and down on the river before she'd even rolled out of bed – letting her sleep in. Or just hide. He'd been taking care of all the cooking. He'd even bought all the groceries – including special but acceptable treats for Eth … potato chips and carob chips and these vegan health food bars that she thought were disgusting but that Eth could eat a whole box of in one sitting if you let him.

They had gone into town – if you could call it that – that afternoon.

They'd gone to a sad little mini golf course. It was pathetic. Water-logged, faded and curling artificial turf. No shade. Barely anything that could be called an obstacle beyond fucking blocks of wood and the occasional potted plant or planter – some of them on rivers. There was some things that almost resembled ramps but she suspected that had more to do with the ground moving and the wooden planks aging than any feat of engineering. Not to mention, they didn't need fucking water obstacles. It'd clearly rained sometime in the past few days and the ground and course was so dented that the pooling water hadn't yet evaporated. It smelled and it was attracting mosquitoes – possibly worse than the ones at the cabin despite being out of the woods and under the beating sun.

But Jay again proclaimed it another relic from his childhood. This was definitely a relic from something – and it likely predated his childhood. Just like the custard was the "best" in the Midwest, she was starting to suspect that this might be the "first" in Wisconsin. Or maybe they just hadn't seen other mini-golfs to know what they were supposed to look like. Jay took issue with her suggesting that – and her slagging all things Wisconsin. What could she say? She hated of the smell of cheese curds.

But re-expressing that to him had just made him threaten to stop at a fucking cheese factory on the drive back to Chicago. It offered factory tours and discounted cheese. Apparently. That was definitely likely on the list of the "best" Wisconsin had to offer. But there was no way she was going to endure that. So he'd effectively shut her up. That took some talent. She'd give him that.

Still, the course was definitely nowhere near as the nice as the one in the city park earlier that month. Jay couldn't argue that. Though, he did argue that there was a much nice – pirate themed course – if she felt like going for a drive. She didn't, though. She really didn't feel like doing much of anything – beyond sleeping.

But Ethan seemed enthusiastic about playing a round. He didn't care where. Because he was such a fucking low key kid. To him this was the "best". But his list of tourist attractions was kind of skewed. It likely would go down at the "best" mini-putt he'd played because they only other course he'd ever played at was the one near the cabin Hank and Camille rented on Lake Geneva. So to Ethan – like Jay – a stay at a cabin included a round of mini-golf. It was a staple of the experience.

So they'd played. And it'd been amusing. The turf squished under their feet. They'd even got some back spray of the gross water when they'd whacked the ball too hard. Or in Ethan's case outright missed it and missed it and missed it. For a kid that was so good at connecting with a baseball and knocking it out of the park, his putter couldn't seem to connect with the fucking golf ball. Though, he was taking a swing like he was on the PGA and not one of the only people stupid enough to pay seven bucks each to tramp through this malaria epidemic waiting to happen. She'd outright shrieked at him when he'd put his hand into one of the "ponds" to retrieve a lost ball. Just what Ethan's compromised immune system needed – him wading in sludge.

But he'd taken it as a cue to come over and shove his hand in her face – reminding her that he'd been in the river, handling fish and petting a soaking wet dog all morning before he'd plunged his hand into the golf course muck.

"You're disgusting," she'd informed him and yanked his stinky hand away. And he was. But he seemed to take pride in that. "You're washing your hands as soon as we're done. And sanitizing them."

He'd just shrugged at her. He was so gross.

The whole afternoon outing, though, had mostly just shone a light on how competitive her and Jay could get.

"You're keeping score?" he asked when he spotted her filling in the name card before they even started.

"Yeah, I'm keeping score," she muttered. Obviously they were keeping score. What was the point of playing if they weren't going to keep score?

"You realize that I've played this course basically every summer since I was four?" he put to her. She'd just shrugged. He eyed her. "Wanna put some money on it?"

She eyed him at that. "How much?"

"C-note?" he suggested.

Ethan had completely perked up at that. "The winner gets a hundred bucks?! I'm definitely going to win."

Jay had shaken his shoulders a bit at that. "You win, you get twenty, buddy," he said.

Ethan had given him a glare. "That's not fair. You two get a Ben Franklin and I just get stuck with Andrew Jackson?"

"Aww …," Jay had teased him giving him another little shake and looking at Erin. "Look at that. He's learning his presidents."

"Only the ones on the bills," she'd muttered.

"Politics are boring," Ethan had said.

Jay shook his a bit more. "Mustn't be watching the news lately."

"The news is boring and Donald Trump is a fucking psychopathic headcase," Ethan said.

"Ethan," Erin warned with his F-bomb that he'd been bad about lately – at least around them. She thought he was getting back into the habit of the foul language with some of the kids at baseball.

But he shrugged. "That's what Dad says. And he's right. Except I'd say he's like more like the Annoying Orange but uglier and stupider."

"Mmm …," Erin allowed.

But she wasn't going to argue with him about it. She was still on her Ethan break – even if he was right there with them. So she wasn't going to justify the extent of their bet. Ethan wasn't going to win. And her and Jay always bet a hundred on every challenge they put to each other. It usually covered dinner. And he sure hadn't taken her there lately. She was about ready for some surf and turf – ones that hadn't been pulled out of the river or cooked over the campfire. Because she'd be getting some truffles with it too. Jay better be ready to pull out his fucking wallet.

So, given her culinary hopes, she really didn't like that Jay had taken the lead early. She definitely wasn't going to be paying for his dinner. She'd seen the size of the porterhouse – and its attached pricetag – that he liked to order. A fucking C-Note wouldn't let both of them eat at that cost. So she'd definitely worked to revise who'd come out on top for the rest of the game. She'd gotten really nitpicky about the scoring and any touching and moving of the balls. What counted as a stroke.

"Erin …," Ethan had whined at her. "It's just mini put!"

She didn't care. She was going to win. And she did. Not that Ethan liked her gloating about that. But she had more on the line than him. Though, he gladly would've ferreted away those twenty dollars. Not that he had a chance of getting it with the way he'd played. Of course, if she'd been a nice sister, she likely wouldn't have counted his wild swings trying to connect with the ball. She likely would've written it off as his eye sight or his MS or his crutches or his tremoring – or just him being her little brother.

But all she'd said was, "Buck up, Buttercup." Because sometimes he needed to hear that too.

"You cheated!" he accused her.

"How did I cheat?" she put back to him.

"You made way too many rules!" he informed her.

She rolled her eyes at him too. "No, I made sure we played by the rules."

"It's mini-putt!" he informed her again. "The rules are putt the ball, get in the hole and have fun!"

"Are you saying you didn't have fun?" she asked.

"I'm saying you're crazy," Eth had said and had pulled his bag of potato chips away from her when she reached for one. He clearly wasn't going to share his snack.

"Now you're just being a sore loser," she told her little brother.

He'd just groaned at her. But it was cute.

"You're terrible," Jay had informed her.

She shrugged. "No, I'm hungry. And you're buying me dinner."

"Sure, I know just the place," he'd told her.

And, they'd stopped at this little roadside "attraction" that was little more than a shack that served frozen custard. It wasn't what she had in mind.

"I meant the Purple Pig," she'd muttered at him as they got out of the truck. But Jay had insisted that she had to try the frozen custard – that it was another staple of his childhood.

"I've had frozen custard before," she groaned at him. Her hormones were still all out of whack with the pregnancy and miscarriage and she didn't think she needed to be shoveling something into her mouth that had typical Midwest ridiculous fat content, that went right to your ass content. But she supposed she really hadn't been eating that much – or taking care of herself in any way when she did – since it'd happened.

Besides, he insisted, "You haven't tried this custard. Best in the Midwest."

She'd rolled her eyes but humored him. And it'd been decent. She wasn't sure she'd call frozen custard bought out of a shack at the side of the road the "best" the Midwest had to offer. She wasn't even sure it was the best Wisconsin had to offer – and Wisconsin generally had pretty low bars to live up to as far as she was concerned. But it was cold and sweet and rich. And she supposed that counted for something.

Really, she supposed, the whole weekend had been decent. And as much as she hadn't wanted to come, she also wasn't looking forward to packing up in the morning and hitting the road by lunch. Returning back to reality.

Maybe taking a break from reality was what they'd all needed. Maybe Jay had been right about that.

He stood over her lounger and held out his hand, as he got back to the fire pit. She raised her eyebrow at him, but took it. He guided her over to the over-sized hammock strung between two trees and they stood with their backs facing it. He'd given her a glance and she gave him a little smile, as they both rose their arms slightly and fell back into it together – in sync. The hammock swaying under their weight and momentum as their legs hung in the air.

"Form and function," Jay sparkled at her.

She grinned. "Definitely got both," she agreed, as she shifted to swing her legs up and awkwardly claim a side on the mesh, webbing as it swung more with her movement.

After she'd settled on it, Jay shifted his weight too – only purposely giving the net a good swing as he moved his legs and lay down next to her, ensuring it kept swaying them as they lay together. Erin shifted closer to him and rested her head against his shoulder – his chest – as he lifted his arm to wrap around her and hold her close.

"You warm enough out here?" he asked.

"Mmm …," she allowed. "Yeah. Considering how cold Eth is all the time, he makes a surprisingly good heating pad."

It'd actually been a little hard to let him go. Not because of his body heat – but because of the little boy cuddles. The cuddle monster that Ethan still became when he got tired even though he was now a teenager. Maybe it wasn't something he'd ever entirely outgrow. But maybe that wasn't a bad thing.

And maybe it was something she needed that night. Maybe it was something she'd needed since she'd lost the baby. That she missed. But hadn't entirely realized as she held Eth at arm's length. Because she wouldn't get her own cuddle monster. At least not right now. Though, maybe she really already had the one she needed in Eth. When she let him in – near. And that had made it hard to let him go when Jay had said they should get him inside where it was warmer and more comfortable. Let him rest. And had nudged him out of his sleep and away from her and upright and trudged him into the cabin to get him settled into one of the bunks for a more real night's sleep. Leaving her out there alone with her thoughts as he did.

But just Jay made a little amused sound at her comment and gripped her a bit closer, so she knew she must feel slightly chilled to the touch. "You want me to go grab a blanket?"

"No," she said. "You make a decent heating pad too."

She could feel him smile under her and his hand gripped a bit more at her shoulder.

Sometimes she felt like maybe she wasn't girlie enough for him. Not feminine enough. Too much of a hard ass or the tough guy. Having spent too much of her life being one of the boys. Sometimes she felt like she had to force herself to be the girl – the woman – she thought maybe he wanted. Or deserved. But then other times – when she did let her walls down without thinking about it, when she did take his comfort and strength and let him be the guy rather than busting his balls about it – she realized she needed it and wanted it and liked it. And she knew that even if she wasn't the perfect girlie girl, she was enough of one for him. That she was what he wanted.

He'd fought for her. So she had to be enough. Had to be what he wanted. Or thought he wanted.

Or maybe he was just too good of guy. Too good for her. But she also knew that was her own insecurities talking. Because any confidence she had – it was usually just a front. But he knew that too.

He knew way too fucking much. It likely meant they had to stick this out. It wasn't optional anymore. Not at this point. They were both in too deep.

She tilted her head up to look at him. He was gazing off into the cosmos, a hand behind his head, as they rocked and he held her. Just being. He was good at that too. He knew how to fill space with her. And sometimes that was the nicest feeling of all. Of all the feelings he provided her – as amazing and as uncomfortable as some of them were – she liked this one best. Just the complete lack of awkwardness of being still together. Comfortable. He just let her be. He made her keep still in a way that no one else ever really had. And he made her want to keep still. He'd become this anchor in her life.

Erin leaned forward a bit and caught his lips. He caught her eyes just before she reached them. He looked a little surprised and it took him a moment to return the kiss. But he had – lingering – until she pulled away gently and settled back down against him. He stroked at her hair.

"What was that for?" he asked.

She gave a little shrug and wrapped her arm around him, gripping at his shoulder too. "Because I love you," she allowed.

She could feel the smile in his body under her again, as his fingers threaded through her messy, slightly greasy with the whole shower situation he had going on up here, hair.

"I love you too, babe," he returned.

And they rocked – swayed – until they just weren't anymore. Until the movement was barely noticeable and could only be stirred if either of them moved. But neither of them was moving.

"Camille would've been all about you as a son-in-law," she finally said.

"Well, rugged good lucks and razor sharp mind," Jay rumbled under her – like it was obvious that he was clearly a gold standard for any mother-in-law.

"I was thinking more that she'd want to commandeer this cabin every chance she got," Erin said.

Jay made an amused sound and moved his hand back to her should from massaging her scalp. "You know, I have told Voight if he ever wants to bring Eth up for a weekend or whatever, it's not a problem."

She gave a little nod, rubbing her cheek against his chest as she did. "He might. Some day."

The quiet settled around them again. It was oddly quiet for her. To hear the river gurgling and the fire crackling. There was occasionally some sounds off in the branches of a nearby tree. Some sort of animal or bird moving around. But no noise but them that sounded human. Just Jay's heart and breathing pulsing away under her ear.

It was so strange and so foreign to her after growing up in a city. She really hadn't done any overnight cabin trips or camping trips for years. Not since she'd aged out of those mandatory trips with Hank and Camille and the boys.

But there was something soothing about it. Calming. To just get away from the chaos that was the city. The grunge. The concrete. The smells. And sounds. It was a change.

The purpose of the trip had been to kind of disconnect but she actually felt maybe more connected than she had for the past couple weeks.

The past couple weeks when she'd been trying so hard to disconnect from everyone and everything. But that hadn't really made things much easier. She wasn't sure this did either. But she did feel more centered. More level. More like things were OK. Or at least better – easier – than she'd thought, than she'd be feeling. She hoped Chicago – and routine – didn't rob that from her the moment she got home.

"Take it you still wouldn't be coming up with her for some kind of girls weekend?" Jay teased after a while.

Erin made her own amused noise. "No," she said. "Camille would be out on the river and in the muck with you and Ethan. Sitting still and reading while camping weren't her definition of quality time in the great outdoors."

Jay moved and pressed his lips against her hairline. "I like her already," he said.

Erin smiled. "Yea …," she allowed. "You would've liked her."

"I would've just liked to meet the kind of woman who put up with Voight for that long," he said.

"One that's a spitfire," Erin said. "Spitfire and firecracker. His two favorite descriptions of her."

"Mmm…," Jay allowed. "And again, nature versus nurture? And trying to get me to believe you were actually adopted at fourteen."

She gave his shoulder a little slap. "Legal guardianship," she corrected but then settled against him again. "I would've been lucky to call her my mom."

"You do get to call her your mom," he said and held her a bit more tightly.

She wiped her cheek against his chest and stared back over toward the fire. "Would you ever adopt?" she asked.

His hand moved to massage between her shoulder blades. She could tell how tight they were and it felt nice to feel the warmth and pressure of his hand there. "I've never really thought about it," he admitted.

"What if we couldn't have a baby, would you adopt?" she rephrased.

He lifted his head and looked down his chest to where she was huddled against him but then moved his hand to grip at her shoulder more tightly. "We can have a baby," he said quietly. "Now … just … wasn't the time for us."

She let out a slow breath. "Have you thought at all that maybe it was more our bodies telling us we don't fit? That we aren't supposed to have a baby?"

"No, Erin," he said a bit more firmly. "I think that we had an unplanned pregnancy and a miscarriage in the first trimester. And that that happens to lots of people. And that next time, we'll try again when we're ready."

"When's that going to be?" she asked.

He let out a sigh and gripped her more tightly. "I don't know. I guess after we feel like we're able to move past this loss and have some serious conversations about if we're ready for a baby and maybe start to … make preparations for that."

"Buy a house," she muttered.

"Yea …," Jay acknowledged. "But I was thinking more like … actually get married, work out the work thing. Be in a headspace where it's not all happening so fast and unexpectedly. Just be prepared. To make the time and the space for us to be parents."

"You like being prepared," she said quietly.

He shrugged under her. "I just like … I don't know. I'd want the kid to have the best start possible."

"Yea …," she allowed. And it seemed to hang there. Because they both knew about hard starts. They both knew that it could take a lifetime to get over them. If a lifetime was enough. So what more could she say? But what she did say was, "You're going to be a great dad …"

His breathing seemed to catch for a moment and his hand curled more tightly over her shoulder. "And you'll be a great mom," he said.

"Don't know about that …," she said.

"You're too hard on yourself," Jay told her. Words that Hank spouted at her half her life too.

But she really didn't know. She didn't know what kind of mom she'd be. And she really didn't know it'd be a 'great' one. She wasn't even sure she'd manage to be a 'good' one. She couldn't even manage to carry their baby to term so what would she do if one ever actually got there?

"You're so good with Eth," she said instead.

"He's easy," Jay said.

Erin lifted her head to find his eyes again. "No he's not," she said firmly. "You just make it look easy." She sighed and settled back down onto him. "It was hard to watch this weekend," she said quietly and his breathing seemed to catch again. His arm tightening more. "Just … to see you with him. How good you are. How easy you make it look. Just patient. And engaged. And then to know too that Ethan's not so little anymore. He's not going to want us around or to … be whatever … pseudo parents to him much longer. That cute little kid is going to be gone."

"Erin," Jay sighed. "He's still going to want us around. It will just be …"

"He'll be a teenager," she said.

"Yea," Jay allowed. "But he is a teenager, and it doesn't feel like he's trying to shut you out of his life. There's still little boy in him."

She rubbed his cheek against him. "We could've had our own little guy …" she muttered.

His thumb rubbed at her bicep. "And we still will. Eventually," he said.

She made a little noise. "It's going to be hard to have Henry around," she whispered.

"I know …," Jay agreed. "But we'll figure it out."

"Yea …," she muttered. And she thought that she'd have to let him be right – let him win – on that one. For all their sakes.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: So, for those who haven't noticed, I've started a new story — AFTERMATH — which will begin where this one leaves so, so in essence around the finale of S3 and Justin's death. My readership and reviews on it are pretty low. Not entirely sure why, though I've gotten some feedback on why. But just letting you all know again, so that you can check it out if you want. If you're waiting for me to finish Scenes before moving to it, you might be waiting a while. I'll keep picking at this but where I update will really depend on where the inspiration is at the moment.**

 **There might be another Jay/Erin chapter after this one at the cabin. If there is, it will likely be an M or at least a chapter that is partial M or a mild M all round. Those chapters aren't my favorite but I do get requests for them. And I have been informed there's not enough Jay/Erin moments lately and not enough lovey-dovey stuff going on in the stories (especially Aftermath) and that the lack of happiness is getting people down. So we'll see.**

 **Otherwsie, I'm not sure what I'll write in Scenes next. I have a handful of scattered chapters I want to finish in it and then a couple chapters around Henry's birthday and the lead up to Justin's death. The scattered chapters would involve a bit of backtracking to things that were set up and not resolved.**

 **If I don't do the next Jay/Erin chapter, this is likely the only cabin chapter.**

 **I have one more Aftermath chapter that I might try to write before Wednesday's ep. But after that I will see how that ep looks in terms of the Hank/Erin dynamic and the Erin/Jay dynamic.**

 **Generally, my readership and reviews/feedback have been pretty low in August and September. I know part of that is likely because I'm not updating as regularly and people are busy. But, I do have other projects on the go, and I might be taking a bit of a break from FF or at least from CPD for a while. I've got people requesting some updates on some of my series from other shows and I also have a pile of other non-FF writing projects on the go too.**

 **So we'll see.**

 **As always, your readership and any reviews, comments or feedback are always appreciated.**


	145. Ass Wipe

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES WAY BACK. IT GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 136 - What You've Got.**

Hank let out an annoyed sound as he pulled another pair of Ethan's skivvies out of the hamper. Damping, balled, stinking skivvies that made him pull his hand back in some disgust only to shake the things out with more disgust at the sight of a skid mark on the inside-out underwear.

He gripped the briefs and moved to the bottom of the stairs, glaring up to the open door at the top. "Ethan," he barked. "Get down here!"

There was a long pause. One that wasn't needed, because he knew his son was just sitting in the dining room at the top of the stairs. Doing his homework. Or at least that was what he was supposed to be doing. It'd looked a hell of a lot more like he was using homework time as an excuse to get iPad time when Hank had walked by with the kid's hamper of dirty laundry. Had planned to just take the clothes down the stairs for him. That it was Ethan's job to sort and do his own laundry – at least his civies. But had decided to do it himself just to get a move-on on it. Get a load in the wash and done. Likely shouldn't have bothered. Though it was a good thing, he had, because apparently their previous conversations hadn't bit these hygiene habits in the ass yet.

"I'm going to come do laundry after I'm done this math module," Ethan had called carefully from upstairs. He'd clearly tried to take some time to think about the appropriate response to his presence being ordered.

"Down here. Now," Hank barked more firmly.

There was another long pause but then the chair he was sitting in shuffled against the floorboards a bit. There was the awkward sound of his boy getting his footing whenever he was trying to get up and then the staggered few footsteps to the door. Hank could see his son peeking down.

"I was going to do it, Dad," he said with a touch of timidness.

Hank pointed at the floor. "Now," he ordered again.

Ethan let out a small sigh and cautiously started to come down the wooden steps. They weren't Hank's favorite steps for his son to be navigating. Narrow. Not enough of a railing. And the kid didn't have his crutches with him for this particular trip so he was bracing one hand against the wall while he used the other hand along the worn piece of lumber that they pretended was anything that resembled a banister. Was some reasons that he carried the laundry downstairs and upstairs for the kid. Did need him taking a fucking tumble. But there was some shit that Hank was getting sick of dealing with. So right now, his son could navigate his boney ass down the stairs.

He smacked at his son as he got into the basement and Ethan looked at him even more timidly. Kid clearly knew he was in shit but hadn't seemed to have quite clued into the why and what yet. So Hank held up the underwear at him.

Ethan just stared at the clumped material in his hand and then looked back to his eyes. "I really was going to come down and do it," he tried again. "I was just trying to finish math first."

"Me putting a load in for you is not the problem, Ethan," he said and held up the shorts at him more directly, putting the skid mark right at the kid's eye level. "That's the problem."

Ethan's face ashened and he looked at him with wide, embarrassed eyes.

"Been skid marks on more than one pair, Magoo," Hank said. "And this pair – sitting in there, balled up, reeking of urine too. We've talked about this."

"But—" Ethan started.

"Yea," Hank interrupted him sternly, "Butt is the problem. You aren't wiping your ass, Ethan. And you're too old for me to be cleaning up your shit."

Ethan blinked at him. His eyes obviously glassing. His hand staying on the wooden railing for some support and likely on the hopes that he might be able to make an escape. But even if he did try to make a run for it – from this repeated conversation – he wasn't going to be able to make a quick one. Not now that he had him down in the basement.

"I do wipe," Ethan tried. "It's hard when I'm tremoring and I'm tremoring all the time lately."

"And we've talked about that too," Hank pressed at him. "You use your other hand."

Ethan made a small defeated sound and looked down with sudden fascination in his feet.

"Ethan," Hank graveled at him more firmly and his son reluctantly looked back up at him. "And you don't put pissed on briefs into the hamper, letting them rot there for days." He shook the shorts at him again. "This is why your room smells so awful."

"It was an accident," he said.

Hank shrugged, poking his tongue in his cheek. "That's fine. You putting them in the hamper is not fine. You bring your pissed on clothes down to get rinsed out and to go through a spin cycle as soon as it happens. You don't bury that it happened."

Ethan looked at him with a small twinge of defiance, a bit of anger flicking in his eyes. "You're trying to make me feel bad about having M.S.," he tried to say accusingly but it came off flat.

Hank smacked at him and shook his head. "No, I'm trying to get you to start taking some accountability for your health and hygiene. Trying to get you to control what you can control. You can control doing a better job at wiping your ass. And you can control not putting sopping undies in the hamper."

Ethan just let out an annoyed breath and went back to looking at his feet. "Can I go now?" he asked.

"No, you can't go," Hank said. "You've just made putting a load of laundry through a lot bigger chore. So you're going to go over to the sink and rinse out and scrub out each pair of skivvies you've got in this hamper."

"Dad, it will come out in the wash," Ethan protested.

Kid was wrong there. No matter what bullshit people might be teaching him at the over-privileged school of his, not everything came out in the wash. Not now. Not in the past. And sure as fuck wouldn't in the future. Best get attuned to that reality in the literal sense. Didn't need his fucking sister having to clean his shit and urine out of his briefs. Didn't need any guys in the locker room seeing Hershey's marks through his skivvies. Didn't need that bad habit not to die and his first girlfriend he let in his pants to end up seeing track marks there and his son to become the butt of some teenaged joke, if the kids let their tongues start wagging. Didn't want to raise a man who thought it was perfectly acceptable to have his wife cleaning up his shit – metaphorically or literally. So they'd do another lesson on Ethan coming to grips with dealing with his circumstances, however, embarrassing they might be. Had other embarrassing conversations and laundry rituals coming up in his future. Let this be a crash course for him on when he should be doing his own laundry and how quickly he should be getting that load in and out of sight.

"You don't want this shit staining," Hank put to him. "You're going to scrub it out."

Ethan sighed heavily but stepped forward, finally letting of the banister and moving toward the hamper. As he did, Hank shoved the briefs into the middle of Ethan's chest. High enough and with enough impact that the kid got a good whiff of the mess he'd made and made his own disgusted face at the aroma.

"And after you get done down here, you're heading up to the bathroom and giving it a good scrub down too," Hank told him firmly. "Stepped in a puddle of piss this morning. And we've talked about that too."

"That was an accident too," Ethan muttered, as he trudged over to the basement basin, dragging the rest of the hamper behind him so it scrapped obnoxiously on the floor.

Hank smacked at him and glared at the little piles of sorting he'd already started the the couple pairs of drawers that he'd already tossed to the side because they were in obvious need of a good rinse out before ending up with the rest of the dirty laundry, seeping shit particles and bacteria onto everything else in the load and likely still leaving that brown mark up his ass crack even after the wash did get pulled out.

"It hitting the floor might be an accident, you not taking ten seconds to sop up your mess ain't no accident," he contended and heard his son make a bigger huff.

Teenaged kids and their huffs and eye rolls and tone. They were shit disturbers. Really shit disturbers. Ethan was working on that at multiple levels too by the looks of it. And Hank was getting a little sick of it. They all had enough on their plates without him deciding to update the obnoxious teen antics. The kid was really trying to milk the hot summer, potential for flares, tired from summer school thing lately. Trying even harder to get some pity and display his distaste about the whole situation with Olive and Henry and Justin and the implications it'd had on summer plans and adjustments to yet another new dynamic in their family life. But Hank had about reached his tolerance level of playing the nice guy with his boy and trying to be understanding and accommodating.

"Ethan," he barked again and the kid gave him a glance over his shoulder. He pointed to the ground and the soiled shorts.

A bigger sigh and a bigger production as he came back over and stooped to retrieve them.

"The bathroom's because I tremor too," Ethan muttered under his breath as he rose back up. Making real sure that he said it just huffily enough that Hank could hear.

"Talked about that too, Magoo," he said. "If you can't handle the clean up, the options there are you switch hands or you sit your ass down on that throne."

E gave him a glare. "I'm not sitting down to piss like a girl," he mouthed off.

Voight gave him a smack. "You rather the girls around you be seeing that you piss on the floor?"

Ethan flared his nostrils and started to go back to the wash basin without response.

"You think me and Erin think it's disgusting, think about how Olive or Eva will feel if they have to go upstairs and use the john and end up stepping in that," Hank put to him.

There was a bigger sound out of his boy and some more mumbling but E did a real good job at making sure he heard it but couldn't make out the words. Didn't much care what the words were anyway. All mouthy teenaged bullshit with a touch of self-pity at that point.

"You can finish up your homework after you finish up your chores," Hank put flatly. "I'm headed out."

"What?" Ethan sputtered and spun around to gap at him then. "Where?"

Hank gave him a little smack. "That doesn't matter."

"Groceries?" Ethan demanded with an edge. "Because you said that I could pick—"

"See," he interrupted, "picking things. That's a matter of rights and privileges. And rights and privileges in this house depend on a whole lot on responsibility and attitude. Haven't been seeing a whole lot of responsibility out of you lately, Ethan. You've been real lax about your chores and you've been really mouthy with the attitude."

"I'm doing my chores!" he protested.

"I'm standing here telling you to do your chores and I'm having to repeat myself and have conversations with you on topics we've already gone over. And you know how I feel about that," Hank put back to him.

"It's so hot," he whined harder, his eyes glassing again then. "I feel sick and tired and hurt and shake all the time, Dad!"

"I know," Hank acknowledged firmly. "But that's just part of your reality and unless you're laid up in bed or in the hospital, part of your responsibility now is to be accountable for that and to learn to work within. We keep talking about that and you aren't putting it into action. And, I'm your father, Ethan. I'm not your nursemaid."

Ethan blinked at him even more. "But … but … what if something happens while you're out?" his voice almost cracked as he said it.

"Then you're old enough that you will be fine dealing with the minor things on your own and if something bigger is happening, you got a phone. I've got my phone. Your sister has got her phone," Hank put to him.

"But—" Ethan sputtered again.

Hank looked at him more firmly. "Do your chores," he told him. "Finish your homework."

"Dad …," he whined. "What if—"

"Call if there's a problem," he pressed.

"But … Dad … I don't like being alone with this," Ethan near whimpered that time.

Hank gave his kid a smack and a little shrug. "Ethan, we all spend a lot of our lives dealing with things alone. You learning to deal with this and be alone – that's another responsibility you've got. You're old enough to deal with some alone time and you're old enough to prove to me again that you can deal with alone time so you get that trust and that right to have the house and some space to yourself some. So do your chores, finish your homework and then … do what you want."

Ethan gaped at him. "What's that mean? How long are you leaving?"

Hank shrugged. "That doesn't matter either," he said. "Shouldn't need to know when I'll be home – you should always just be here, in one piece and with the house in one piece when you're left alone."

"It does matter!" Ethan argued.

"I'll be back in a bit," Hank told him and ignored the whine of 'dad' again behind him.

Truth was it was likely going to be a bit more than a bit. Give the kid a good couple hours to get all that shit done. And give himself a couple hours to take a break from it all. Both him and Ethan needed that. Some fucking space. He needed to start loosening the reins some time. Might as well be now.

Go shit on his ass at the social club. Read the paper. Have a drink – that he felt like he needed already –way to early. Talk to some adults who weren't on the job. And then go and get some fucking groceries done without Magoo turning it into a multi-hour affair with his M.S. shuffle.

Prove to the kid he could handle himself. Show some trust in the fact that Hank believed he could and that he wouldn't burn down the house in the process.

And give them all a bit of a break. He was thirteen. Had had eyes on him near 24/7 since his diagnosis. Couldn't keep that up for the rest of his life. And Hank had other things – and people – who needed his eyes these days too.

Got to learn to trust him. Had learned to trust Erin again. Had learned to trust Justin again. Time to learn to trust Magoo again. Even if his previous attempts at trusting his kids had blown up in his face at various points – he was willing to take the risk today. Because he was a little sick and tired of it all too.


	146. Hungry Caterpillar

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 124 - Nature's Course**

Voight glanced up at the bell on the door as it dinged, announcing his entry into the little vacant bakery. But his eyes quickly shifted back to the vacant counter-front, though, the door leading into the back of the store and the kitchen soon was pushed open and Laura Dawson appeared. She near stopped in her tracks, giving him a questioning look. Wouldn't say she looked like she didn't want him there. But was definitely surprised to see him.

"Take it that 'Tonio didn't give you a heads up that I'd be coming over," he put flatly, tapping on the counter, as he got up front.

She crossed her arms at the mention of Dawson. Two of them were clearly still in rough waters. He'd thought some of it might've been clearing up a bit. They'd seemed cordially with each other at Magoo's birthday. But, figured they were both mature adults. Likely was less about being cordially than it was doing what was right for their kids. No matter what happened in a marriage – the real parents had got to accept that the kids were still the most important ones in the equation. You figured out how to make things work in a way that brought them the least amount of hurt. Seemed like that meant putting up a polite front when you all had to be in a room together. At least for the mature adults in the room. The ones with the kids' best interests at heart. The ones that weren't entirely vindictive. Because at some point you'd loved this person. You'd made a family with them. You'd created other human beings together – who needed you and deserved you being that adult in their life.

He didn't get the impression that 'Tonio and Laura had fallen out of love. Didn't get the impression that Laura was on some vindictive rampage either. And neither was Dawson. Not that he talked about any of it much. Few things that did come out of the man were vague obscurities. Usually more based around one of his kids than anything that was going on between him and Laura. But Antonio. He was a man. A professional. He knew when and how to keep the personal life private. How to be the family man who was still a cop.

Thing was that being a cop. That took a toll on a marriage. Voight and Camille might've stuck it out but he knew that they were on the short-list of couples that survived the job and the hours. Especially when undercover work came into play. And did they really survive? They'd survived twenty years together. But his wife sure hadn't survived his job. And that had sure left him more married to the job. Married to the city.

Voight's interpretation of events was that Laura had just lost patience with the lifestyle. Happened a lot. There'd bound to at least be some tension after your one kid is abducted. After your husband is shot. More than once. All this coming after years of him working Vice. Having to co-mingle with scum. Go undercover for days and weeks at a time while you've got young kids at home. It wears even the strongest marriages down over time – no matter how much you love each other. It's going to create fights. Going to bring up some pretty deep discussions. Some arguments. Force you to re-examine things. To look at your priorities.

Voight supposed he'd sort of hoped for 'Tonio's sake – for the kids and Laura too – that maybe it was all just a bit of a break. Take some time apart. Settle down. Get heads on straight again. Let absence make the heart grow fonder. And then get back together.

But he knew shit like that wasn't always the way it worked out either. Al was a good reminder of that. Good guy. Good husband. Good father. But he's living in a garage for months on end when his wife can't stand the sight of him anymore. That's a much bigger statement than getting tossed to the couch. That's a whole lot more than the fucking dog house. Then she's stepping out on him in the midst of it too? Said something. For all the things O was and wasn't – Voight was pretty damn sure that he wasn't stepping out on Meredith, not when they were still married. Though, he'd done in while U.C. Knew that happened. Guys did it. A little surprised it'd happened to Al but Al's methods with U.C. ran different than Voight's. But he'd had to go under longer than he'd ever let himself run into with an operation. He knew that Al pulled out all the stops to blend in, to finish the operation, to not get made. And apparently that had included some poor choices that had put the brakes on any possibility of him and Meredith getting kosher again. Even though it'd looked hopeful there for a while.

Had thought things had looked hopeful for Dawson and Laura too. But Voight got the impression that they were in the acceptance phase at that point. All of them. The adults and the kids. They were making do with their new life and family status. Maybe they'd rethink that at some point. Maybe if they both waded into testing the waters a bit for what else and who else was out there, they'd realize that what they had was the best it got. Because history – family – there's no replacing that. There's nothing better than that. Nothing more important than that.

And for all the things that him and Dawson butted heads on, Voight thought that those things – family, your kids, the sanctity of marriage – that was something that mostly agreed on. In their own ways. But there was only so much grey area in any of those things as far as Voight was concerned. You did for your wife. You did for your kids. It's just the way it was. The way a father was. A husband was. A man was. And Antonio – he was a man.

"No, he hadn't," Laura allowed.

"Mmm," Voight grunted.

Supposed he hadn't given Antonio a lot of time to give Laura a heads up. Pretty much had told him that morning that he was going to see if Diego wanted to get some pocket money again. Stop by the bakery. Talk to the kid and Laura.

Dawson hadn't indicated any displeasure at that prospect. Pretty much just given him a nod of acknowledgement that he'd said it. Likely figured that he was talking a few days down the road. Was looking for some kind of permission. But he wasn't. He was a man of action. Did what he said. Said it that morning. Doing it that afternoon on the way home from work. He'd just been giving 'Tonio a heads up. Giving him the opportunity to give Diego and Laura the same. Hadn't worked out that way. But didn't much matter.

"Cake Boss around?" Voight asked, giving the counter a little tap and nodding back at the door into the kitchen.

But Laura just gave her head a little shake, letting those crossed arms drop some. "Umm, no. He's not wanting to come in as much this summer."

"Mmm," Voight allowed again.

Understood. Age and stage. Been there. Still there with Magoo. Pain in the ass. Little boys trying to grow up. Made minding them a bit more challenging. But minding fucking kids at that age in the summer was a pain in the ass. Laura likely managed OK, though. Older daughter. Lots of family – aunts, uncles, cousins, parents still around – to help out. Meant didn't need to argue with the kid as much about any perceived damage coming into mom's work to help out with the family business might to do his perceived social status.

Hopefully the kid was out pursuing his football thing more than sitting on some videogame truck, though. Who fucking knew. Did know that of the few things that 'Tonio did say that Laura had a softer hand in the whole parenting thing than him. But that's what moms were for. Especially moms of the youngest son. They're the baby. Always will be. Fuck, Magoo still was even though he didn't have his Ma around anymore. Still her baby. Still his mother's son. Always would be. More than his other two – in a different way.

Knew too, though, that boys this age. As a father. They were fucking hard. They pushed ya. And your buttons. Big transition point in the whole relationship thing. Fathers and sons. Your boy growing into a man – while still being your boy – a kid, while you were the father. And you had to be. Couldn't be your little buddy anymore. Different than with daughters. A whole different ball game. It's own kettle of worms that was so fucking different than the bullshit that your little girl put you through through her pre-teens and teens. That was a whole different kind of frustration and heartbreak. But boys could be just as good at it. Voight knew that from experience.

Could tell that was weighing heavy on 'Tonio – especially with him only getting to be a part-time parent now. All that dynamic of a separated family that Voight couldn't quite relate to because he hadn't quite had to deal with. He got being a single parent. Got what it was like at that age to have a parent abscent – knew from his own accord and from watching his kids spin-out too. But also knew that Diego had definitely been Dawson's little buddy. Still a nice kid that boy but he wasn't so little anymore. Definitely got the impression that he was testing bounds and pushing buttons. But that's what twelve, thirteen, fourteen … fifteen, sixteen, seventeen … twenty-one … thrity … was for.

Part of the fucking journey. Voight thought it was more of a journey for the parent than the kid. Kid wouldn't realize they'd been on a fucking journey with it until much later. Until they'd just about settled into their new status – as adults. A parent with an adult child.

Hard transition, though. Especially when the kid had been your little buddy. He'd done that with Justin. Too much of his little buddy maybe. But was his only kid back then. Justin was the center of the family's life. He was the center of him and Camille's attention. He was who made Hank a father – and he'd wanted that. Done good with him when he was a little guy. But then Erin had arrived on the scene and E had showed up. His little buddy was just eleven. Right in the mist of his pre-teens. Right on the cusp of hitting the whole teenager thing. And he was no longer the center of attention and Voight just didn't have the time to deal with some of J's adjustment to all that.

He'd fucked up there. Likely demanded a little too much of Justin. Expected more of him than a kid that age – who'd spend so much of his childhood as an only child – could muster. And rather than being patient, he'd been a hard-ass. Ordered that he man-up when he was still just a little boy and that just drove bigger and bigger wedges between them until Justin became a fucking expert at pushing everyone's buttons and every boundary he could find. To get attention. Didn't matter how negative it was. And that just made Voight angrier. He'd become the tough love guy. Harsher as a father than he might've imagined. Especially after having the little boy who'd he'd taken camping and gone fishing with and to the beach and to hockey games and football. Taught him to skate and ride a bike and cast a line. And dodged as much U.C. as he could to make sure he was home with his boy. Cultivated his acquaintances – his networks – instead. Used those connections to make his busts. To make his name. To establish himself in the city – and the grey area that made up so much of Chicago to anyone who was really embedded with how the place ticked.

Maybe that wasn't all good for his family either. But did mean that he was around when J was little. Worked long, hard shifts. Had to do some shitty things. Some things he wasn't particularly proud of. But he was a father.

Then all of a sudden he'd had this little shithead at home who just … was being a kid. A fucking teenaged kid. But at the time … working in Gangs and moving up the ladder while he had a teenaged girl at home with a shit ton of baggage and a new baby and a working wife who couldn't be home all the time and lay down the law that she wasn't going to be a pseudo-single mother to three kids so he could have his career. So rather than seeing the kid – he'd seen the problem. The frustration. His own fucking annoyance and impatience with this kid who wouldn't help out around the house, wouldn't help out with his baby brother and who would just pull stupid ass shit that distracted and upset everyone. So he'd reacted what he thought was accordingly. He'd cracked down. Rather than spending more time with his oldest boy, he started living in a perpetual state of just disciplining the kid. Grounding him. Arguing with him. Telling him to shut the fuck up and listen. To co-operate. To grow the fuck up.

And that shouldn't have been the way he dealt with it. He could see that now. But hindsight was 20/20. Didn't like to dwell too much on the past. Seemed to do go with that when it came to work and decisions he made on the job. But when it came to his family? His kids? His wife? That was a different story. He knew his mistakes. And he had his regrets. Had things he wished he'd done better. Or at least differently. Maybe things he'd said a little more. Or other things he'd said a little less.

The thing was that now he was at least getting something that resembled a second go at it with Magoo. Still had his share of mistakes and failures as a father with his youngest. Definitely would have some regrets that he'd likely always carry with him. Hadn't always been the best father to him. Been a lot of incidents after Camille was gone that he just didn't know how to be a father to him. Not to a broken little boy as a single parent. He'd known how to take care of him. How to love him. But it'd been hard to know how to be a parent in that way for a little kid still in a grade school. Sometimes it still felt so fucked up to know how to parent him – what he needed and how to be that – as a single parent.

But he was sure as fuck trying and for all the mistakes he'd made, he was trying to go about things a little bit differently now that his baby was in his teens. It was a strange line to walk. Sometimes with Eth's interests and questions and the way he talked and the help he needed and that damaged head of his, he still felt like he was dealing with a little boy. That he still had a fucking seven or eight year old on his hands. Then other times the kid was so full of piss and vinegar – so fucking mouthy and stubborn and obnoxious. The way he pushed boundaries and worked to find loop holes. He was undoubtedly a teenager. And a royal pain in the ass at that.

Voight didn't think he'd changed many of his rules. His standards. His expectations. But he'd been working a lot at being more patient with Magoo than maybe he had been with his other too. Maybe there were times he was being a little more open and a little more available. He was still letting himself see the kid and treat him like a kid and not screaming at him to grow up every time he pushed at one of those buttons too hard.

Supposed he was getting a bit of another go-around with Henry too. But it was different being a grandpa. And different with him being Justin's kid. He was really careful about not stepping on toes. Not doing anything to rub J too much the wrong way that might get the both of them up in arms in a way that meant he didn't get to see his grandson as much as he wanted to. Because he sure liked getting his time with his little guy.

For all the inconvenience and bullshit of Olive and H coming back to the city a bit ahead of J, he would say he was loving getting his visits in with his little man. And getting them in without being under Justin's microscope. Or Justin feeling like he needed to put on some sort of show for him.

J seemed to think he needed to somehow prove to him that he knew how to be a father and how to be a good one. Or maybe it was more he was trying to make some sort of commentary that he was going to be a better father than him. Have at'er, as far as Voight cared. It wasn't a fucking competition. You just did the best you could. The best you could figure out. It was a whole lot of trial and error. And that trial and error changed with each and every fucking kid. You never "learned" how to be a parent. You just constantly evolved and adjusted yourself to be whatever that kid needed at whatever stage they were at. And that stage kept on going and going and going. Still going at twenty-five and thirty that was for sure. Definitely got some new dynamics when your kids were now married and parents to kids of their own. When you had a little grandson too. And, Voight, sure as fuck loved his little grandson.

Different being a grandparent. So different. Hurt that it already was going by so quickly. Or maybe it hurt truly knowing how quickly it all went by. Knowing that he hadn't gotten to see his grandson as much as he wanted in his first year. Knowing that it was a fine line and a little dance for him to get to be Popa to his little man. To put up with the show by not stepping on any toes. To let Justin and Olive be his parents and to not interject his opinion on anything much.

He'd done pretty good on managing to bite his tongue about that. Had done pretty good too about not handing out unwanted advice for the most part. Had said a bit to Olive – colic and sleeping through the night and teething and old-fashioned diaper rash remedies – when it gets onto the poor kid's ball sac and getting them started on that shift to baby food and solid food and a minor fever and bout of diarrhea the lil' nipper had had when Justin was off on some training exercise and she was trying to convince herself it wasn't something she needed to get too tired about but needed someone to tell her as much. But she seemed more willing to hear anything he had to say. He'd be careful about it with her too, though. Because that's what Camille would be telling him. To stay out of it. To be good to that girl – the mother of their grandbaby. So he did his best.

Only real bit of advice he'd given to J – unsolicited – was to be there for them. Be there for them. You did that and eventually the rest of the shit fall into the place. It worked out. You just had to be there. You had to show up. They had to see you. You had to be a part of their life. You had to be engaged. They had to feel it. Just be there for them. Be there for that baby boy and be there for his wife. Be fucking there.

He wasn't sure how much his son got it. He got an "of course". Best answer J could muster. And sometimes Voight was real proud of the father Justin was learning to be. Didn't think he was doing a bad job but was sure far from perfect and had a lot to learn. But didn't we all. Didn't bust his balls about it. He'd learn. Give him time. Let him try. Though, this whole home early thing still had him wondering a bit. But Olive seemed calm about it. Seemed real good. And her and J were in constant communication. On the phone and the damn texting and the Skype thing. Been up one weekend already to be the husband – finish getting them settled into the rental, check up on them, help with the unpacking. So Voight was still holding his tongue. Still trying to watch carefully and not come to any conclusions. Just be there for too. Be there for Justin by being there for Olive and H.

And that's what this was still all about. Always would be about. Just what you did. For your kids. Then you do it for your grandkids. Maybe you hope you might get to do it for your great-grandkids. He didn't know. Thought it was good enough making it to get his one grandchild. He'd sure take that. Take it off into the afterlife because Camille was sure as fuck going to want all the gory details when he got on up there or down there or where the fuck-ever with her again.

"Was wondering if he's still looking to make a few bucks," Voight put to Laura, because he knew that it was more her who'd be the deciding factor anyway. And sure, he'd give Diego some cash but he'd pay Laura – the bakery – for the cake too. The ingredients and the real labor. Operation costs. Supervising the kid. "Need a cake for my grandson's first birthday."

Laura's face finally softened a bit at that. She allowed him a small smile so Voight let the same happen on his face, though he looked down to drum his fingers again on the countertop.

"Yea, your cake was a real hit at Magoo's bash." He gave her a more sincere look in the eyes and a little nod. "Still really appreciate you helping Diego out with that. Thought we weren't going to be able to have a cake for the kid this year."

She gave him a humble shrug and wrapped her arms around herself again. A little too protectively for Voight's liking. He wasn't sure if it was him she was protecting herself from or his association with her husband. "It was a fun challenge."

Voight gave her another thin smile and a little nod. "Well, he loved it. Still talking about it. Was hoping, if it wasn't too much trouble, you two might be available to whip up another one. So E can be included after Henry gets his candle blown out."

She smiled a little bit more at that reference. But she allowed a nod. "I think we can do that. Now that we know the secret formula, shouldn't be too hard."

"Mmm …," Voight acknowledged.

Glad she was amiable to it. He really didn't have too much of a concept of how much of a pain in the ass it'd been to figure out how to make something that looked and tasted like a cake that fit with Eth's diet. Did know that most other places had laughed in his face when he'd shopped around. So, he figured it wasn't a said-and-done task. Likely had taken her some time and research. And he'd paid her appropriately even though he got the sense she'd just quoted him ingredient costs – likely just for the final, successful product. He hadn't had any of that. Knew she must've had to do some research and likely had some failures and lost ingredients on top of the labor and operation costs she didn't seem to bill him for. So he'd handed her more than she'd asked for and made sure to get well enough away from her that he wouldn't have to hear any arguments and make some sort of production out of it. Gone to hand Diego his football cash and knew he wouldn't hear any arguments out of a twelve-year-old kid about being handed the bills. Just like he hadn't heard any arguments out of Diego when he'd seen the rest of the food at the cookout and the group of kids going at it with waterguns and water balloons on the baseball field. Any reservations – or instructed declination – he'd been given on the initial invitation to hang around had been forgotten on the second and he'd been off to play with the rest of the kids and had packed away a good plate of food and seconds. Real growing boy that Laura and 'Tonio got there. Healthy. Strong. Built. Would make a good football player. Good for them. Good for him.

"When do you need it by?" she asked.

"Weekend after next," Voight said making a little gesture with his hand to emphasize it. Wasn't as much notice as he'd given her last time but figured she didn't need the experimental period this time around.

She nodded and flipped open a little calendar she had by the rash, scanning it and then making a little note. Getting them all booked in by the looks of it.

Hard to believe it was coming up that quick. Even harder to believe that little H was going to be a year already.

Knew Erin wasn't looking forward to the weekend too much. She loved Henry a whole lot. Could tell. He saw the way she was with him. Got that smile on her face. Got right down at his level to play and goo-goo-gah-gah him. Let that feminine and girlie and motherly side come out of her. Women and babies.

But he knew that they were still real close to her loss and that that loss sure didn't leave you in a month. Didn't really ever leave you. Just like any other loss, you just got farther away from it. Right now he was still right there in the rearview mirror. Still insight.

Erin had seen Henry some since him and Olive got back into the city and started getting settled. But Voight could tell that she was doing her best to time her visits to avoid having crossover when she knew Olive and H were also going to be at the house and when they all had ended up in the same place at the same time she'd kept the interactions short. And Voight could see painted all over her face that she was struggling.

And he understood. Knew that Camille hadn't wanted to look at any babies after they lost their little girl. Knew that after they got in their spite of miscarriages, she'd get a similar look in her eyes when they went home to Justin. Loved him to pieces – but the little one being there, the one you had in your life still seemed to drive home the loss even more. Voight had felt it too. It was hard. Still dealt with it now in a different way every day when he looked at his kids and saw their mother.

It was just something you had to learn to deal with. But it took time and Erin's wound was still fresh. She was holding up OK, though. Hadn't been any banana peels that he'd seen. Though, both her and Halstead sometimes had those vacant looks on their faces at work and he knew they'd likely been up all night talking or crying or not talking and crying. Or a bit of both.

Different, though, he knew. Because Voight knew there was a whole sibling rivalry thing going on too that added a different dynamic. That Erin saw her little brother and saw him with a wife and a baby. Knew that often times Erin felt like J had things easier than her. That his life worked out a bit better – sooner than hers. And the bullshit aspect of it was that J had the same kind of jealously directed at Erin. Like her life was somehow more peachy-keen in the family. That she was the golden child who got all the leeway. That she got the relationships with him and Eth. Got the connections and to flaunt the family name to her benefit.

Voight didn't quite see any of it that way. But with three kids he'd sure become aware of what sibling rivalry looked like. Think it'd be easier with the age gaps – but hadn't much seemed to help. Sometimes it made him glad that him and Camille had been only children – because he wasn't sure he would've wanted to have some unwarranted competition with siblings to measure his life against and to try to keep up with in meeting some sort of socially acceptable milestones. Him and Camille sure hadn't done that too well and watching friends get ahead of them (or behind them) was enough. Didn't need to add family dynamics to the mix. Though, sometimes he still felt like having some family in the mix might've made things easier. But, instead they'd made – found, adopted – a family of their own. Good friends. Good connections. People – favors – you could count on. And that counted for something.

"Is it going to be a big party again?" she asked.

"Nah," Voight gave his head a shake. "Just the family. Olive's aunt."

"How many people, do you think?" she asked. "Or pieces of cake do you think you're going to want to get out of it?"

"Mmm …" Voight acknowledged and did a bit of math in his head. "Guess seven people and a slice for H to muck around with. Try a sugar rush on him, if his parents are agreeable."

Laura shot him a little smile and tapped on her calendar, and then gazed at the door for the kitchen lost in thought for a moment. Seemingly doing a bit of mental math of her own. She turned back to him. "Are you going to want some leftovers? I can show you a couple pan sizes we've got."

"Nah," Voight waved dismissively. "If there's leftovers, fine. But just whatever size you think's best for the lot of us."

She gave a little nod and jotted something else in the calendar. Voight watched her but let out a bit of an inward sigh. He felt a little silly about this next line of questioning. But it went back to things you did for your kids. Or in this case, things you did for your daughter-in-law and your grandbaby.

"It you or Diego who decorated up Ethan's cake?" he asked.

He'd teased Diego about it at the party when the kid had opened up the box to show off the cake. The cake that they'd managed to not just make so was edible for his son but that they'd taken the time to decorate it up like a ball mitt with a baseball right there in the palm. At heard the cookout's location and had talked to Dawson enough to know that Magoo was baseball nuts and had gone out of their way to do that for his son. And his son had been over the moon to see it. Had just rushed about how cool it was. Been real special that they did that for him. Made it happen so his boy could have a cake on his birthday – and one that didn't just reflect his diet, it reflected him. Hank had more than appreciated. Driven home even more what a good woman Dawson had there. Good kid too. Good people.

Laura cast him a smile and straightened, those arms going back around her again. "We both worked on it."

"Mmm …," Voight grunted and then looked squarely in her eyes. "Think you might have the time to do up something like that again?"

She smiled a bit wider. "What were you thinking?" she asked.

Voight shrugged. Almost like he was going to be indirect about it. But he was a straightforward guy. You looked people in the eyes and you said what you needed to say. It was just how he operated. Always seemed to be the way that made the most sense. And he had been thinking about it.

Olive didn't say a whole lot about any of the social politics that went on with living on base. She seemed real good at biting her tongue. Sometimes Voight found himself measuring if she did that on her own accord – thinking he didn't want to hear it or she owed it to him not to complain about the lot in life she'd landed in – or if she'd been instructed against talking by J.

Had gotten bits and pieces out of her on her visits, though. Usually had to interrogate her a bit to get it – but got some. Had gotten a bit more in the past few weeks now that J wasn't right there in the background.

Voight didn't know too much about any of this stuff she talked about. Things some of the woman around the base seemed to get into that sounded a bit like petty politics but he figured was more like a distraction for the lot of them. Because sometimes you needed that in those kinds of situations and in a life like that. You needed to focus on the little things and small moments until you made a much bigger deal of them than they needed to be. Figured some of this social media crap only exemplified it. This constant sharing and bragging and trying to out-do each other with the over sharing. Some sort of competition that definitely supersede sibling rivalry but sure as fuck was some other kind of rivalry.

He wasn't too interested in getting involved in any of that. He didn't much care if Olive had some photos to share with … "friends" … on Facebook or Twitter or Instagram or Pintrest – whatever the fuck any of those things were. But he did care that his daughter-in-law got to give his grandson a nice party and that she felt good about the party he got – even if it was real low-key. And, he knew that Cami – she'd always gone out of the way with the cake. Made sure the kids had a nice cake. A decorated one – even if her decorating sure ended up usually being a disaster and never really looked like what it was supposed to. Her attempt at a baseball glove likely would've ended up looking like a pile of shit. Literally. But he loved her anyway and loved that she did that for their kids. That she tried real hard. She was a good mom who really loved her kids.

And Olive sure loved Henry and was sure trying hard to be a good mom too. So, Voight, he could make sure she got a couple photos and Henry got that nice cake.

"Henry's real into insects," Voight provided. "As much as a one-year old is into anything."

Laura grinned a bit at that. Let herself. Her arms loosened again. "I think we can likely manage an insect related cake."

"Hmm …," Voight nodded. That was good to hear but he had some idea of his own. "You know the Hungry Caterpillar?" he asked and Laura gave him a questioning look. "The book. My kids. Loved that book."

"Mine too," she admitted.

"Mmm," Voight allowed and smiled a little at the thought of it.

Book was likely still up in the attic or down in the basement somewhere, though he hadn't come across it yet. But he knew Camille wouldn't have tossed it. But he also knew when he did find it, the thing was going to be torn and battered and have tape everywhere in it. The fucking kids had made them read it to them so much. Learning their colors and their fruit and their numbers and their days of the week. Could still see Camille sitting in the chair in the front room with each of the boys in her lap reading it to them when they were just little guys. Could still feel them cuddled against him in their beds with that selected as the fucking bedtime story – again.

"Even had this pull-toy for them when they were babies. Wooden thing," he muttered lost a bit in his own memories. "Cami's dad made it. Good at that woodworking stuff. Passing it on to Henry on his birthday."

Laura gave him a genuine smile but he could see some sadness there. Sympathy. But he didn't deal so well with that. Never felt like he needed anyone's condolences. Especially not about something like this.

So he asked instead, "You think it might be able to do something with that?"

She gave him a little smile and an accompanying nod. "I think I can figure something out."

Voight gave her a little smile and tapped on the counter again. "OK," he agreed and shifted to leave. "Tell Diego if he helps his mom out, he's got some pocket money coming his way too."

"I will," she nod.

He gave her another thin smile and gestured minor warning that he was going to leave – because he didn't want to be rude to Dawson's wife. But he'd said his piece. They'd made their contract. It was time to go. Didn't need to say anything more. Though, he thought maybe Laura expected him to or wanted him to. Maybe she had more she wanted to say too. But he didn't think either of them really needed to. It was all right there on the counter – in that bakery – everything they needed to know at that moment. Up to them what they made out of it.

That's just the way life worked.

 **AUTHOR NOTE: Taking feedback (DM preferably) on how many people got a pregnancy vibe off Olive in E20 and E23. Trying to decide if I want to incorporate it into the story. But might be jumping the shark in terms of the series cannon if it doesn't go that way.**

 **Also, there was a chapter posted less than 24 hours before this. It is currently the one immediately before this. "Now". It is Erin/Jay.**


	147. Playset

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 105 - NATURE'S COURSE.**

"You have to get it," Erin told Hank teasingly and cast him a grin. He cast her a look –but not an unimpressed one, even though all she got out of him was a grunt. But she could tell he was thinking about it. "C'mon, Hank," she urged and stepped forward to rock forward the large plastic box containing a plastic barbecue and grill, complete with all the utensils as well as burgers and hotdogs and bottles of ketchup (a Chicago faux pas).

"Where are they gonna put that," he muttered at her, but they'd been standing in front of the kids' plastic playsets – kitchens, barbecues, princess vanities, tool benches – for a good five minutes. It was pretty clear that he had been thinking along those line as the "family" gift – even if he didn't know where Justin and Olive will put it for Henry. He was just looking for some justification – or reassurances -that they'd find somewhere to put it. "Don't even know if they're going to be in a house or apartment yet."

Erin shrugged at him. "So it stays at Popa's house," she put flatly.

Hank grunted at that. He didn't like clutter – she knew that. But they could easily fit it in the back shed or the basement when Henry wasn't over. Out of sight and out of mind – and out of tripping distance. But she knew he'd likely already thought of that. And even if it did get left out between Henry visits, Erin suspected his grandson had a free pass in those kinds of situations. For now.

"He'll be over more after they get home, Hank," Erin said and then plastered a smile. "Don't you think Henry wants to grill with Popa?"

Hank made another sound. "Yea … get him taught on how to get for the family sooner than I did with any of you." She rolled her eyes and Hank pointed farther down the aisle. "What about a wagon?"

"Where are they going to put that?" she put right back to him. He cast her a look and gave her an unimpressed smack. "They have a stroller," she provided flatly. She didn't see why they would need a wagon too. But she still trailed down the aisle after him to take a look.

Ethan appeared in the aisle too, giving a huff as he spotted them. "You're still here?" he grumbled.

Hank gave him an unimpressed glance too and went back to looking at the various kinds of wagons on display. So Ethan cam over and held out a box of Duplo at him.

"Here," he said. "I found this."

Hank took the bin and looked at it. "This what you're goin' get him?"

"No," Ethan said. "It's what we're goin' get him. The family gift."

Hank cast him another look and looked back at the box. "Eth, I think we can manage something a bit better than this."

"It's sixty bucks," Ethan pressed.

Hank's eyes got more disapproving and looked to his son and then back at the box again. "This is sixty bucks? There's not even a hundred pieces in it."

Erin let out a little noise. Somehow it'd been a long time since he'd bought Ethan Lego – or at least been the one paying for it. It'd always been Justin who'd picked Lego as Ethan's birthday and Christmas gifts. So it would've been Camille handing him the money long ago and then it was Erin and now he mostly handled it on his own. Or had until Hank had banned Lego with Eth's tremors. Made her wonder how much he thought the little kids E and Jay were buying once a month were worth? The boxes were small. Most of them contained between about eighty and a hundred pieces. They put them together in all of thirty minutes – if that. Hank likely thought they were worth about five bucks from that comment. In reality they were more like ten to fifteen. But probably still more valuable for the money than this baby set.

"It's Lego, Dad," Ethan pressed at him. "It's supposed to cost that much."

Hank shook his head and handed the box back to E. "No," he put flatly.

"But, Dad," Ethan near whined at him. "J always got me Lego. So now I should get Henry Lego."

"It's sixty dollars, Ethan," Hank put to him sternly. "He won't even know what to do with it. Probably isn't even strong enough to pull apart the blocks."

"It's baby Lego," Ethan said with this complete tone that Erin knew he was now cruising into territory that could bring him a bruising. "It's made for babies. Henry is a baby."

Voight shrugged at him. "You want to get it for him, you go ahead. We'll take the cash out of your gifts budget jar when we get home." Ethan gaped at him. "You're supposed to be picking out something for your nephew. Go pick something out for your nephew."

"I did," Ethan said and held up the box again.

"Magoo," Hank said more firmly. "Go pick out something between five and twenty bucks, OK? I told you. He likes cars and trucks and stuff."

Ethan sighed animatedly at him. "Dad," he groaned, "those stupid cars he has are so annoying. I don't want to spend my gift money on that!"

"Then he likes bugs," Hank pressed at him, raising his eyebrows and jutting his chin in some warning. "And he sure seems to like your dinosaurs too. So go back to the baby and toddler section and pick something from those three categories."

Ethan huffed at him but started to move away, casting Erin a glance as he did. "Don't let him pick something lame from all of us," he mouthed, earning another unimpressed look from his father. "Henry doesn't want a wagon either."

Ethan disappeared but Erin cocked her eyebrow as Hank met her eyes. Eth likely had a point. She really didn't think they had any need for a wagon either.

"What about these tryke things," she said, and guided him a bit farther down the aisle. "I see people with these."

Hank gazed at the boxes. "Since when are trykes fucking strollers," he muttered. "A push bar and a canopy?" he gave her a look of disgust.

She sighed at him and grabbed one of the boxes to rock it around so they could look at the rest of the labelling. "It's so it can grow with him, Hank," she muttered right back at him. "So, they'll be able to turn it into a tryke when he's ready for that."

He just smacked at that and gave her a look. Apparently this was far too modern and trendy for him. She rolled her eyes.

"Hank, I really don't think we need a gift from the whole family. Just pick what you want."

He briefly glared at her but stepped forward to look at the box himself and to read some of the labelling.

"You still in a mood about that Crowley thing?" she put to him as he did.

That glance over his shoulder included daggers. "I'm not in a mood. I'm slightly pissed off that you and Magoo aren't being much help in picking out something for your nephew."

"My vote is on one of the playsets, Hank," she said again. "The barbecue or the tool bench."

He grunted.

"You going to give Crowley your answer before the weekend so you aren't like this during Henry's party?" she asked.

He flared his nostrils and gave her another look. "Gave me the weekend to give them my answer. So I'm taking the weekend."

Erin let out her own slow breathe and looked up at the dirty ceiling in the grubby and dated Toys R Us they'd ended up in the closest 'burbs to Hank's place. She hated when they ended up in the 'burbs. She usually did everything she could to avoid it. But apparently shopping for plastic toys for toddlers necessitated a trip.

"Well, what's your answer?" she asked. He gave her another look – this one even more unimpressed. She was pushing into his business. Thing was, she didn't think it was just his business. And the larger thing was, he wouldn't have even told her about it, if he didn't want her to know in the first place. "You've had more than a day to think about it," she said.

He just puckered. "And still got some time to keep thinking," he said and pointed over to the other side of the outdoor display. "Goin' look at the water tables and the kiddie pools."

She rolled her eyes even more at that. She didn't see the point of a water table when you could just buy a kiddie pool and give the kid some buckets. But she also remembered Ethan's kiddie pool. Hank fucking hated that thing in the yard. Killed his grass and it filled up with random crap blowing off the street or thrown over the fence from the alleyway. So he was constantly having to drag it into the roadway to dump it out and then fill it up – all the while grumbling about their water bill. Or, in a better circumstance – Ethan would dump all the water out slowly through his own splashing or just by the bucketful in his play. Which effectively made the yard a muddy mess that really only served to drown Hank's grass faster.

But she trailed after him again. "You wouldn't have told me about Crowley's offer, if you didn't want my advice," she said to him.

He looked over his shoulder and smacked. "You're my kid," he said. "You don't give me advice."

She crossed her arms and glared at him. "Then I'll give you my opinion."

The pointed eyes she got back clearly said he didn't want that either and he kept walking. But so did she and she kept talking.

"You've earned this, Hank," she said.

He stopped in front of a water table that was shaped like a pirate ship and pulled the box slightly off the shelf to look further at it. She knew it was a front. The thing was so fucking gaudy that Hank would never allow it in his house – or yard – even for Henry.

"I've earned the right to be put behind a desk?" he muttered. "To push paper for the rest of my career?"

She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, gripping at her elbows. "It's fifty people," she pressed. "Who you've be responsible for. Who you'd teach. The way you taught me. Taught all of us in Intelligence. You'd show how to protect this city and to bring a little bit of justice to it."

"Intelligence is my unit," he said. "I like a solid small team. I like being hands on. Getting out in the field."

She sighed at him. "Hank, you're getting older—"

He cast her an angry look. "Don't give me this old man crap."

"I just meant …," she sighed and shook her head. "You've got Ethan and you don't have Camille now—"

"You think I don't know that?" he spat at her.

"I know you know that," she hissed back at him. "But maybe you're sugarcoating a bit too much how fucking hard the year has been with Ethan. Managing our schedules – the job – and him, when there's not someone who's here in the middle of the night and on weekends, is hard. We've both drained our banks of furlough. Some of this stuff he needs costs a fortune. I know what our benefits look like Hank. I know not everything is covered and I know you won't let me help. So I don't want to know what your bank account looks like or where the money is coming from for you to handle all these medical expenses."

"And, you don't got to worry about any of that," he said. "My kid. My responsibility. I deal with my business."

She sighed and dropped her arms. "Hank, they're offering you a position where you'll have more normal hours and a pretty big raise. That will help. A lot. All of us."

He glared. "They're using the fact that they know my son is sick as a convenient excuse to bench me. They're creating these new 'programs' and 'strategies' to effectively take proactive cops off the street. Lock them up in the Ivory Tower and shackle them to some desk so none of them can do their job."

"But it will let you do your job at home, Hank," she shoved at him.

He smacked so loud that she almost felt like he smacked her. So she let out another sigh and looked down.

"I'm not saying you aren't taking care of Ethan," she allowed a bit more gently. "He loves you. Adores you. I don't know how you're doing it – because I know how hard it is even from my perspective. But it's going to get harder, Hank. When me or Jay has to move, we … I … we aren't going to be as available to help. You know that, right? One of us will have a new boss. We'll have to prove ourselves in a new unit. They aren't going to be adjusting our schedule or making accommodations so we can go and pick up Ethan for you … or whatever …"

He shoved his tongue in his cheek and then gestured at her. "And you think if I leave Intelligence, then that's not going to be double a problem. Because you're going to have a new boss there, who doesn't give a shit about who you are or what you've got going on at home. And the new guy isn't going to be able to turn a blind eye to a fucking marriage certificate any better than me. In fact, a new guy, that ring you've got on your finger is likely going to be enough. So one of you is still going to be packing and then you'll both have a new boss."

She let out a little sound and brought her arms around herself again. "They'll likely give Intelligence to Antonio, if you leave," she said. "Or Al?"

Hank shook his head.

She sighed again. "Then … Antonio will still … give me some leeway. He gets it."

He smacked and gestured at it. "So you've made your decision too? You're staying? Jay's going?"

She let out a shaky breath. "That was the plan," she said but shook her head and shrugged. "But if you take this offer … I don't know."

Hank gave his own head a little shake and shoved the water table packaging back up onto the shelf. "They aren't setting it up as much of a decision."

"Then talk to the union," she pressed at him. "Now. Before the weekend is up."

He cast her a look and started trudging back down the aisle. "Think you're right. Play set's best. They'll all get a kick out of that."

Erin just let out a slow breath and gazed after him. Just when things were starting to feel more normal and stable – things had to go and get complicated again.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **OK. So I'm going to explore some of the stuff from the finale, because I do think it sets up some very interesting dynamics for the characters/family as depicted in this AU. Right now, I'm mostly going to play with the timeline of the episode a bit and make it span over a few more days than the timespan that it happened in on the show. Basically, I think a lot of character moments within the family didn't have a chance to be shown (Olive/Justin, Jay/Erin, Hank/Erin, Erin/Justin, Ethan within all of it, I think Hank's reaction to a brain injury would be different given the context of this AU since he'd dealt with brain injury before and might cling to hope or denial longer). Anyways. There's a lot to play with there.**

 **I'm not sure how much I'll go beyond them in the hospital/Justin's death and some of the immediate fallout, though. I'm not sure I'll go right up to the final scene of the season basically, because I need to reflect on where the show is going to go next season and how they are navigate to get there and how I can plug these characters into that. I have ideas of how to do that but will need to think. Because I also have some questions about the episode and how some of the last sequences were staged.**

 **The other thing to know is that I'm going to stage it so it happens at Henry's birthday too. So in this AU that's late-July/early August — not May. The Ethan's birthday chapters would've been set around the first week of June. So that gives me some time and space to deal with some other stuff that's been introduced in Scenes (e.g. Father's Day, Erin's miscarriage, some fun summer stuff, etc.). Basically it gives me the time to develop the characters and the stories already occurring within Scenes a bit more and tie up some threads. It also will also some arcs to be completed and to get the family on some more stability before shit really hits the fan.**

 **I actually do feel like the family is in a spot that even though Justin's loss will be HUGE for them that it allows a lot of opportunity for growth as a family, especially in terms of Olive and Henry becoming a larger part of everyone's lives. But I think if I started wading too far into the anticipation of next season — which is likely going to be very, very, very dark — it might screw up some of the "realism" of the tone of Scenes.**

 **So basically … you can expect me to keep picking away on what plots have already been established in Scenes and you can expect some chapters related to the finale. Those chapters will be more around Justin being in the hospital and the immediate aftermath of his death. They likely won't be much farther than that until after CPD is back on in the fall. But seeing as I'm only writing and posting about 1 or 2 chapters a week right now, I think I have a lot to work with to get through the hiatus. Please be aware that I won't be writing the scenes around the finale all at once because they are going to be pretty emotionally intense and those can be draining to think on and write. I'll need breaks from them. And right now I need to think on the finale and the characters and their potential reactions and experiences within all this, since a lot of it went unseen on the show. And really think on how this would affect Ethan as well. And how Ethan's presence in Hank's life in this AU might impact his actions too.**

 **Also, it might mean that I delay — or might not even write — the arc I was planning with someone back from his past endangering his family. I'm trying to decide if it might increase the stakes ahead of the events in the finale or if it would just be redundant.**

 **I think I might do a fun chapter … like Father's Day camping trip to avoid thinking on this for a bit.**

 **Also, it's worth mentioning that I do feel the final sequence in the finale was very, very purposeful. And that various moments and events were purposely left unseen. And because of that I'm not entirely sure where the S4 will start and if it will start in the way that people are initially expecting it to in the aftermath of the episode.**

 **I could give a spiel on storytelling and beats of series and story arcs and character arcs and breaking a season. But if you're truly interested in that, contact me in DM. But the episode is going to have to sit with me a couple days. They did some interesting things with the finale in terms of storytelling structure and sequencing for dramatic effect (which can sometimes be used for misdirection and illusion).**

 **On a side note, if you've read both So This is Christmas and Scenes, you've now read more than 1,000 pages of text, which is disgusting.**

 **And — finally — as always, your thoughts and feedback are appreciated. Reviews, comments and DMs are always nice to see.**


	148. Quarter Answers

**Title: Scenes**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

 **Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.**

 **THIS ChAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 108 - PLAY SET.**

Erin sat wringing her hands together and staring at that divider in front of the secretary's desk. Just staring. Not even thinking. She couldn't think. She didn't want to think. So she stared at that divider – that ledge, blocking that woman from the student body – that had likely been there for decades. It'd certainly been there since Erin had been at St. Ignatius. She'd stared at the think in that office before.

She started slightly as Father Caruso's door opened back up. Pulled out of her thoughts. Pulled into the now that she wasn't sure she could cope with. A now that she didn't want to cope with. Her eyes slowly drifted up to his.

He'd aged well. Even having spent all these years dealing with bratty teenagers and mean girls and over-protective, self-entitled, helicopter parents – he'd aged well. He still looked almost the same as she remembered him. Maybe that Jesuit outfit distracted you from any grayness that had set into him over the years. That outfit was always the same. That black rob.

She'd looked up at him from that same chair a lot of times in the past too. More times than she could remember. But somehow thinking about that right now – reflecting back on it and trying to pin a number to it – seemed easier than anything else she could or should or needed to think about in that moment.

Besides the look on his face, as he looked down at her, was different than the one she got in high school. It wasn't anger or that 'not again' or 'you don't learn' or 'you never listen' look. This one was riddled with sympathy and somehow that just made her stomach churn, her throat tighten and her heart pound even more.

She looked away.

"He's on his way down," Father Caruso told her gentle.

Erin just nodded. She couldn't manage to speak. Not right now. Even though she knew she was going to have to speak soon. She just didn't know what to say. Not to Father Caruso. Not to Ethan.

She didn't want to be the one doing this to Ethan.

"He's just over in the Math Department," Caruso said. "This building. Close. He shouldn't be too long."

She allowed a little nod. "OK. Thanks," she managed at a near whisper.

Father Caruso let out a long sigh. "Erin, I just want to express again, that the hearts and prayers of the entire St. Ignatius community are going out to your family right now. You have our deepest sympathies."

"Yea. Thanks," she managed again. Because she didn't know what more to say. That was such a Catholic thing for him to say. But she didn't know that they were a part of the St. Ignatius community. Even though they'd all gone there. Even though it was what Camille wanted for the three of them. Even though Hank had wanted it to give his kids at least a solid foundation in their education. But that had never meant they belonged there. Not Erin. Not Justin. Not Ethan. And any apologies or sympathies now just seemed contrite.

Not that that was Father Caruso's fault. He'd always been nice to her. As nice as a principal can be when you're a problem child, she supposed. But she still wasn't that interested in hearing it from him. Not then. Not now. And she knew he could tell. His eyes just stuck on her. They felt heavy. Heavier than her whole being already felt.

"I could come with you to the hospital," he said. "If Hank or Justin's wife would like me to perform—"

"We aren't very religious," she blurted. Because she didn't want to hear the words 'last rites'. She didn't know how to wrap her head around it. She didn't know who she was going to be in that room – if Hank and Olive let her. And, even if they didn't, she didn't know how she could sit in the waiting room in the hospital or the car or back in the bullpen and wait for that call saying it was over. Done.

Everything was different. Changed. Again. And it was suffocating.

"OK," Father Caruso allowed evenly.

But she could tell there was mild disapproval to that statement. That she wasn't going to let him try to save Justin's soul one last time. The thing was right then – in the inevitable fall out that she knew was about to ravage both her families: the one she'd grown up with and the one on the job – it wasn't Justin who's soul needed saving. It'd be all of theirs. Like Hank the most. If prayer did any fucking good for anyone – right then – it was Hank who needed them. Not Justin. Maybe they should've been praying for him long ago.

"You can use my office if you like," he offered again, though. She glanced at him. "To talk to Ethan. I can stay with you, if you want."

She shook her head. "I'm not telling him here."

Father Caruso stared at her again. "Erin, I don't know what your father said to you, but I've known Hank a long time and I know he can … judicious about how he gives information. But, I think … Ethan needs to understand what his happening before you take him over to that hospital."

"His dad. The doctors. They can explain it to him," she said and set her eyes back on that divider. She knew the secretary was sitting on the opposite side – outside of her view, blocked from it – but eavesdropping like the nosey busybody spy she'd always been.

"Ethan's bright, Erin," Father Caruso said gently again. "He's going to see you're very upset. He's going to know something is going on. And, he's going to have questions. I don't think you should be fielding those while driving in a car."

"I'm not driving," she muttered but shook again as the door to the administration office opened and Ethan stopped in his tracks when he saw her sitting there.

He'd had a small smile on his face when he'd opened that door. It was the last week of the summer catch-up program at St. Ignatius. The one that he'd done so well at despite complaining about and fighting with his dad about having to go. The one that the only way they'd struck a deal to get him to stop his posturing about it was to sign him up for the week-long programming camp at Field that he'd get to go to next week before spending the rest of his summer break getting to try every activity under the sun with the Rehab Institutes' summer camp. The summer camp he'd been so animatedly telling his brother about the night before and that Justin had actually listened and asked some questions that time without giving off that crippled, retarded, disabled vibe that he'd set into for nearly a year while he held Ethan at arm's length and attempted to wrap his head around his brother's illness.

But he'd been doing better. He'd pulled himself up. He wasn't perfect but he was finding his way. Slowly. He was trying to improve. He was still Justin. He still could be brash and have that chip on his shoulder and that swagger in his step. But he was still the Justin – the insecure little boy who wasn't a tough guy and wasn't his dad and wasn't a player, even though he'd tried so hard to be. Instead he'd had to find his own way – and had been working on that the hard. But it was his way and he'd been working on it. And he had top marks in his army training to prove it. He had admission into the army college program to prove it – putting him on track for Signal Corps and an officer's position. A real career. A career he was making for his wife and son – despite all his imperfections, he was trying to be a decent family man and husband. Even though he was still learning. He was still young. He was supposed to still have time to grow and mature into all of that.

It was so unfair. Because they'd all really been trying. Really trying. Since Ethan's party. Since Justin got to see Ethan play ball. Since they'd all settled into the reality that Justin and his family would be home in a couple months and they would all be in each other's lives again more regularly. They'd be a family. A real fucking family again. They needed to help each other. Even the parts that made each other uncomfortable. The ugly bits that maybe they didn't like so much. Because they all had some good. Their family was about the good, the bad, and the ugly. As long as it all came back to the truth.

And the truth was that Ethan likely thought he was coming into that office to pick up a note for his dad that confirmed he'd done well enough during the catch-up sessions that he couldn't have to be held back at all, that he wasn't going to have some assessment and meetings to readjust his IEP. That they could keep moving forward within the boundaries they'd established for him. Either that, or he thought he was getting that signed form from the school that the Field needed when he checked in next week to program his dinosaur videogame. A notion that he'd also been blabbering about the other night – most intently to Henry who just kept looking at him with big eyes and chewing on the dinosaur toys that Ethan let him near. It was a special night. Henry hadn't even been snapped at about slobbering all over Indominus. That was likely his real birthday present from his uncle.

But that smile faded so quickly when he saw her there. When he saw her eyes, which she knew were watery. But she'd tried and tried to get them to stop. To ice them over and to turn to steel. She couldn't make them do it, though. The tears just kept stinging until they pushed the surface and she fought to wipe them away before they could leave streaks down her cheeks.

"What's wrong? Is Dad OK?" he asked in panicked staccato.

It made the tears there at the surface string more. One fell, trailing down her face and she reached up to wipe it away as she opened her mouth to try to find words for this talk that she hadn't been prepared for. So she nodded to give herself a moment. To try to compose herself. To try to hide the sadness that she knew he was going to hear even more in her voice.

"Hank's—"

"Dad," Ethan spat at her in correction. "You always call him that. He's not. He's dad! He's your dad too."

She gave him a thin, sad smile while her lip quivered. "Daddy's OK, Magoo," she managed but looked down to her wringing hands again as the tears pushed out even more.

She'd thought for a split second about saying that Hank was fine. But he wasn't fine. He wasn't going to be fine for a long time. If ever. She didn't know if he could come back from this. Could any of them come back from this? Even saying "Daddy's OK" seemed like a stretch. He wasn't OK either. But at least he wasn't physical maimed.

Ethan cautiously took a step toward her, seeing her tears. Because she wasn't hiding them now. It just wasn't working. She glanced at her brother with his movement. She was scaring him. She could tell.

She should've worked out in her head how this conference would go. How she could manage to respond. She'd just wanted to get him in the car. To get him to Med. To Hank. Let Hank explain it. The doctors. People who knew how. Because she didn't know how to say this to her baby brother. She never thought she'd be the one to have to. Maybe about his dad. Not about his brother.

"We're going to go for a drive," she nodded at him.

His face fell again and his movement stilled. He was like a statue. "That's what you said when you took me to boarding school," he whispered.

A sob wracked her body at that. It choked her with the reality of that statement and she shook her head hard and held out her arm until she found his hand and gripped it tightly.

"We're just going to the hospital," she assured, though she knew it wasn't very reassuring. "Your Uncle Alvin is waiting for us outside."

The color in Ethan's face drained even more and she could see him trying fiercely to process. She could see his eyes darting to Father Caruso and the secretary's desk. Presences she could still feel too but had all but been ignoring because her body felt so heavy she wasn't sure she even knew how to get up out of the chair.

"But you said Dad's OK …" Ethan stated more than asked – and he seemed to direct it at Father Caruso more than her.

Her puffy, bloodshot, watering eyes shifted slightly to the priest. And he gave her that look – the one that said she had to do this now. That it was going to be her. It wasn't going to be Hank. That Hank couldn't be there right now. That Hank wasn't the one here little brother was going to hear this from first. And she needed to figure out how to do that. How to get Ethan through these next 40 minutes until she got him to the hospital. Really how to get him through more than that – weeks, months, years. Because this was going to be Camille all over again. Hank was going to disappear. He was going to check out. And this time he didn't have a little boy in a hospital bed to be some kind of anchor to keep him in reality. To keep him from self-destructing. And Erin wasn't sure that Ethan and her and Olive and Henry were going to be enough to do that for him. She wasn't sure he'd let. Because she'd seen what this had done to their family before. And it'd fractured them as badly as it fractured Ethan's head. The scars were all over them just as much as they were on Ethan's body. And it'd just been in the past few months – with Ethan finally home and Justin finally growing up and them finally finding a rhythm and pace to deal with health care and child care and the job – that things had finally started to feel like maybe they were normal again. That they'd found their new normal – and they'd rediscovered their family in it.

But now there was this. And it was different. And it was devastating. And it was catastrophic. And it definitely wasn't normal. It wasn't ever going to be normal again. Not even their new normal. Not now. Not ever.

Father Caruso gave her a little nod. She wasn't sure if it was supposed to be encouraging. But it at least encouraged her to look away from him and grab both hands of her brother, tugging on them until he stood in front of her and looked away from his principal and back to her.

"Dad's OK," she tried but her voice quivered.

Ethan gazed at her. She could feel his heart pounding even through his finger tips that were pressing so tightly into her hands they were creating white marks.

"Then why are you crying? You almost never cry."

Another sob caught in her throat and she tried to pull her one hand away from him to wipe at her tears but he wouldn't let her. They were both going to be each other's anchors in that moment.

She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself yet again. "Your Dad's at the hospital. With Olive. And we're going to meet them there."

Ethan squinted at her. "Did Henry hit his head on the coffee table like Dad kept saying he was going to?"

She gave him a sad smile. She'd gotten Henry a popper. He'd loved it. His parents not so much with all the noise the popping little plastic balls made as he zoomed around the main floor of the house with it. It'd already been threatened that it was a toy that would be staying at Auntie Erin's or Popa's house after they got back in little more than a month. Popa hadn't been in agreement on it ending up at his house because he'd been in a bit of a tizzy about Henry's still unsteady gait that managed to drive him about a hundred miles an hour. Hank was just waiting for him to end up with too much velocity that sent him tripping over his feet and flying right into something. He'd seemed pretty convinced it was going to end up being the coffee table in the front room – to the point he'd picked it up and moved it into his den – setting it on top of his wooden storage bin. Only then Henry thought it was a jungle gym and was still bound and determined to get at it. So it'd been moved back to its proper place while Hank restlessly watched him on his run in circles, standing and blocking his potential impact with the table every time he roared through the room. Henry just giggled and giggled. He likely thought Popa was playing with him – not that Popa was nearing an anxiety attack about something as simple as a potential bump to the head. But at least they were both getting their exercise.

She almost wished it was a nasty bump and maybe a couple stitches for her little nephew. She'd feel bad for him. But it wouldn't feel as bad as this. It wouldn't even compare.

So she shook her head again. "No, Ethan. Henry's fine. He's with your Dad and Olive."

"Where's Justin?" Ethan asked scrutinizing her.

She frowned at him and tugged at his hands again. "Sit down," she urged, trying to gesture with their joined hands to the empty seat next to her.

"No," Ethan protested firmly but in a way that sounded more like a painful yowl. "Where's J, Erin?"

The tears stung more and she fought with all her might to keep them from turning into all-out waterworks. "Ethan something happened this morning—"

"What happened?" he demanded.

"Your brother got hurt—"

"HOW?" Ethan barked at her, now dropping his hands away from hers but she scrambled to take them back and gripped at them just as tightly as he had been, even though he now fought against her. "He's not at work. He's not on base. He's here. We're going to the Cubs tonight. With Dad. It's Henry's first game!"

Erin gave her head a little shake as the tears trickled out of the corners of her eyes. "We aren't going to the Cubs tonight, Ethan," she said. "You're brother got really hurt. And he had to go to the hospital. He's been in surgery all morning."

"WHAT?!" Ethan demanded. "What happened? How'd he get hurt?"

Her heart was pounding and her chest was so tight she didn't know how she was even speaking, let alone breathing. It was all just echoing in her ears. Her hands felt clammy but her biceps and the top of her back – the skin just felt on fire. The rest of her just felt raw.

What happened? How'd he get hurt? Why did he get hurt? Why did this happen? She didn't know any of those answers. She didn't even want to attempt to explain the half-answers that she only felt like she a quarter-knew to her little brother. She couldn't.

"His head got really hurt," she managed.

Ethan stopped. He was that statue again. So much so that she thought she saw some of the light flick out of his eyes. The same little death that she'd watch set into Hank's eyes. The one she'd felt set into hers. And now they were staring at her through the sockets of his little boy, who wasn't so little anymore but was still the baby. The baby brother who was supposed to have a big brother and a big sister to protect him and look after him. And her and Justin both just kept on failing at that.

"Was he in a car crash?" Ethan asked quietly.

She shook her head and tugged at his hands again and this time managed to get him to sit in the seat next to her. "No, Ethan …"

"Then … what …?" he asked.

"He was shot," she said flatly. She almost felt some surprise at how flatly it came out. Because as real as it was, it didn't quite feel real. This couldn't quite be real. They'd been through too much. Hank had been through too much. They couldn't do this. They'd already done it. They weren't supposed to be doing it again.

"In the head?" Ethan asked with some confused dismay. He gaped at her.

"In the head," she allowed in quiet agreement. "And the doctors are saying the surgery didn't go very well and that Justin isn't doing very well."

She saw Ethan's eyes glass at that and his lip quivered as now it was him who was trying to find words as the reality set in.

"Well … I had to have lots of surgeries," he sputtered. "Fifteen. So they'll just have to try again."

She gave him a weak smile and reached to cup at his cheek, she could see he was struggling to control his tears too. "You were hurt all over, Ethan," she said gently. "Justin's just hurt in his head. His brain. It's different."

"No!" Ethan's voice cracked as he yelled it at her.

Her tears fell harder. "Yes, Ethan. And the doctors are saying that Justin's not coming back. He's not going to wake up."

"I WAS IN A COMA FOR THREE WEEKS!" Ethan screamed with such force that Erin sat back slightly before curling her fingers around his surviving ear and brushing at the hair on the back of his neck in an effort to calm him. "I WOKE UP! They thought I wasn't going to wake up. Dad says so. You too. They told you. They told you I might die. But I didn't. You say it's a miracle. IT'S A MIRACLE! IT'S HOW YOU TELL THE STORY! IT'S A MIRACLE!"

She nodded at him, though she could barely see him through the tears now. Her vision was blurred and stinging with the salt of the tears. "You are our family's miracle," she agreed quietly. "But Justin's head got hurt differently, Ethan. It's different. And he's not going to be a miracle."

"NO!" he jerked and stood and glared at her with eyes so glassy. His chin was quivering he was fighting so hard not to sob.

She shakily made herself stand and put her hands on his shoulders. "Eth, he's hurt so bad that even if there was a miracle and he did wake up, he's not going to recognize us. He's not going to be able to talk."

"SO?!" he spat. "I had to learn to talk again. I didn't recognize any of you. J was last. He was the LAST ONE I remembered," and the tears started. "He was the last and he's always …." Erin pulled him to her and held him tightly as he body rattled against hers with his sobs. "That's always bugged him."

She let out her out sob at that and rubbed her cheek against the top of his head. "He knows you remember him," she told him. "We're going to see him and you can tell him again. But he knows."

"He can learn, Erin," Ethan cried. "He'll remember."

She just held him tighter. "Olive and Daddy have already decided, Eth," she whispered. "He's not coming back. So we're going to go say goodbye."

"No," Ethan whimpered and buried his face in her chest.

"Yes," she said firmly – firmer than she thought she could manage. But she gripped at his shoulder and placed her mouth on his crown. "It's going to be OK," she whispered.

But she felt like she was lying to him. She didn't think it was going to be OK. Not now. Likely not ever again.


End file.
